15 S 3rd St, Philadelphia, PA
(215) 627-6274
Rounding the corner from Market to 2nd on a frigid Friday, FARMiCiA is a little oasis of coziness in the dark night. Christmas lights in the windows frame a packed dining room full of smiling diners, who munch on organic, local food in this Old City eatery.
Inside, the vibe is just as inviting, with red leather chairs and deep chocolate banquettes, local art on the walls and large star-shaped paper lanterns hanging from the pressed-tin ceiling. It's a pretty big spot, with 122 seats in three separate areas, plus a small back function room. Though there is a full bar with plenty of reasonably priced wines, the restaurant happily will uncork your from-home bottle for free, which is the route my husband and I took on our recent visit. We were seated in a dining alcove off of the bar area, which was relatively crowded with people waiting on tables or just enjoying an 'elixir' (cocktail) or a local beer on a cold Friday night.
FARMiCiA, the brainchild of former White Dog Café honcho Kevin Klause and Metropolitan Bakery owners James Barrett and Wendy Smith Born, delivers on its promise of farm-fresh, mostly local and organic food, in a (very) relaxed atmosphere. Service can be slow - extremely slow, even: we got the tell-tale 'Can I bring you some more bread?' shtick twice on a recent visit. But with the indie-rock soundtrack and cozy vibe, it's almost impossible to resist the urge to linger.
Back to that bread. All freshly-baked at next door Metropolitan Bakery, there a nice selection, brought over by a roving carbohydrate peddler who, on our visit, bore a striking resemblance to Dave Grohl. We had options ranging from rye to wheat baguette, to the excellent olive bread, studded with kalamata. It all comes with a house-made herb butter and, as noted, is offered up several times when meal waits get lengthy.
We split the excellent, super crispy Vietnamese Crispy-Fried Squid, which comes with a strange but addictive sweet and spicy tomato-based dipping sauce, and I heard at least three other diners raving about the Jumbo Lump Crabcake, which was bigger than a hockey puck and came topped with what looked like upscale Potato Stix (and there's nothing wrong with that). Salads are out of the kitchen quickly, and the selection, which changes seasonally, includes a tasty but standard egg-less Caesar salad and fantastic beet and fennel salad topped with perfectly creamy feta cheese.
The salads cleared, we sat back, sipped our pinot noir, and waited for our dinners to appear. And we waited. We chatted with each other, we chatted with the people at the next table (it's a neighborhood haunt for them), and we did take Dave Grohl up on his offer of more pumpernickel. I was about to dig into the bright green Granny Smith that served as our centerpiece when, over 30 minutes after our salads were cleared, our entrees appeared, with an apology. We took it in stride, because frankly, it was about 10 degrees out and we were in no rush. But it should be mentioned that service, while friendly, can be painfully slow and somewhat inattentive.
The entrees were the least exciting part of the meal. My boneless pork chop was incredibly juicy and flavorful but came with a so-so blob of lumpy buttermilk mashed potatoes and a few florets of broccoli that had been steamed and then dropped onto the plate. My husband had the rib-eye, which was okay. His chive mashed potatoes were a little better than mine, and his sautéed greens were tasty but not overly exciting.
Dessert was out almost as soon as it was ordered (making up for lost time, maybe), and I honestly say that mine was one of the best crème brulees I've ever had. The custard was insanely creamy and the top so perfectly crisp that I ate the whole thing before my husband was halfway through with his tasty but somewhat dry chocolate torte.
I'd go back for a relaxed meal or a drink at the bar and some more of that fried squid in a heartbeat, but it's not the place to go if you're crunched for time. It's easy to overlook some of the flaws of FARMiCiA on a frigid night, when you're with good company, and the hominess of the place makes you want to stick around and soak in the literal and figurative warmth the space has to spare.
by Tara Pierson Hoey
[Photos: Joshua Schnable]