Taste: Reviews: Bar Harbors
N. 3rd looks like a bar you might wander into from a side street in the French Quarter. Artists, musicians and other creative types hang here; nowhere else in Philadelphia have I seen so many ponytailed guys with so many pretty girls dressed down like Charlize Theron in North Country. Not a single customer looks as if he or she sits in an office cubicle by day. In fair weather, laid-back dogs recline under the outdoor tables like the regulars they are, hoping for scraps of the excellent grilled hanger steak, or a fallen frite. Inside, the Smiths and the Cure are on the sound system. With a vast collection of decorative masks, funky paintings, abundant cigarette smoke and film-noir lighting, this joint fits its Northern Liberties ’hood like a well-worn Timberland boot.
You could drive by this unassuming corner a hundred times and never suspect that there’s an artist in its kitchen as well. That would be Peter Dunmire, who started at Deux Cheminées, then moved on to the Ritz-Carlton, Brasserie Perrier, Rouge, Blue Angel and Magazine before settling in at N. 3rd two years ago. In this easygoing setting, Dunmire cooks with a Left Bank sensibility, serving generous portions of skillfully rendered comfort food while keeping entrée prices in the $12-to-$19 range.
The big blackboard that dominates the dining room can hardly hold the long list of daily specials; a smaller blackboard announces featured wines such as Viña Sardasol Rosado de Lágrima, an amiable Spanish rosé that goes for $19.95 by the bottle or $6 by the glass. The same prices apply to every wine on the printed list. If there’s a seasonal draft beer in the house, it, too, is on the little board.
Dunmire’s feather-light fried calamari is one of the best versions in the city, wide rings jacketed with coarse cornmeal, served with mild marinara for dipping. Grilled pizza is a thrifty entrée or shared appetizer with a pleasantly chewy crust, topped with tomato, fresh mozzarella and basil the night I had it. If you can tolerate a furnace-blast of pepper heat, the steamed clams with chorizo should not be missed. Ask for extra rolls before dipping into the broth laced with jalapeños, garlic, lime and cilantro, fiery enough to make you sweat on a cold night.
The soups are always worth investigating, though they are not always served as hot as they should be. A substantial mushroom bisque, full of meaty portabella mushroom slices, gets a finishing hit of truffle oil; the butternut squash soup is thin, yet tasty.
I love the tuna burger spread with subtle wasabi mayo and topped with a pinch of ginger-dressed greens, served on oversize slices of toast. The slender fries alongside are cut in-house, the mark of a kitchen that attends to the smallest details.
But the dishes that set N. 3rd apart are entrée specials like roasted venison with lingonberries, potato/celery-root gratin and braised red cabbage, simply because they’re so unexpected in a spot that has a Simpsons pinball machine. Nor do you expect to find fat pieces of seared tuna with succulent pink bull’s-eyes of rareness, accompanied by French lentils and sautéed spinach. I’m glad I didn’t ignore the printed menu, because I would have missed the superb crisp-skinned salmon fillet, seasoned perfectly with nothing more than salt and pepper, reclining on a pillow of mashed potatoes. An elegant coconut curry sauce with a suggestion of sweetness surrounds it all. The lone disappointment was one of the specials, pork tenderloin wrapped with prosciutto that came off as too hammy and too salty; the cabbage braised with bacon alongside it may have been the tipping point.
The cake-like, fine-textured chocolate bread pudding and the fruit crisp of the day are made in-house and are perfectly fine, but I’d rather spend my calories on the first and second courses. Or you could always conclude dinner with one of the lovely blood orange margaritas, because after all, this is a bar.
