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Our friend Collin Flatt visits the newborn Prive and finds a lot of potential lacking proper execution.

True Philadelphians don’t oft find themselves trapsing through the nether regions of Old City for a bite to eat. Amada doesn’t count, as it’s an island unto itself, and drinking at Eulogy is the only way to cope with the neighborhood. We’re starving for a reason to swim through the slick of Axe Body Spray that permeates the air from the Ben to 5th street.

I wanted to like Prive so much, I really did. The space that once housed Marmont and Bluezette had everything going in the right direction. Young, hot new chef. Check. Beautiful space. Check. Prime location. Check. Ca$h money to back it up. Big check.

I left disappointed, but not despondent. The menu is as ambitious as the architecture and design, but the execution leaves something to be desired. The culinary succeses I did enjoy at Prive though, have me believe that there is hope for a solid eatery on Market Sreet not named Fork.

For starters, the $3 Rabbit Risotto was fantastic. Chef Peter Karapanagiotis sucked me in with a perfectly playful mix of creamy texture and gamey flavor that defined amuse bouche. I was impressed with the presentation as well, three half moons of porcelain providing the vehicle to my palate, densely packed with the riceandbunnygravy . A not-too-sticky consistency and just the right portion made this dish a success that was sadly not equalled the rest of the meal.

The Taramosolata was also quite good and had me excited for the big plates yet to come. A ‘caviar mousse’ of sorts, the supremely airy consistency displayed the chef’s soft touch with big flavor. The dip appeared to magnetize to the surface of the starch as if they were old friends. Go in with both hands and come out a winner.

The next dish that found my table was the appropriately/unfortunately named Lobster Bricks. What could have been a really cool little plating ended up quite oafy and heavy-handed as the deep-fried filo dough was really thick. The filling of lobster ash and spinach was punched in the face by the twice-wrapped crunchfest. A butternut squash paste was almost impossible to scoop with the little ravioli-like squares, but the flavors did work well together. A thinner layer of dough will make this dish a contender.

The biggest downer of the eve was the server-suggested Bruschetta flatbread. Spoiled by the aforementioned Amada, and moreso by Audrey Claire, I have a severe fondness for quality flatbreads. The ingredients were right on: Tomato concassé, oil, and sweet jumbo lump crabmeat  adorning grilled pita. The bread was not crisp which made it almost impossible to pick up, and ended up a mushy consistency to eat. Any benefit the luxury elements afforded the dish were lost in the mouthfeel. There is a serious need for contrasting textures here that isn’t present.

The Tenderloin Fondue arrived lukewarm and quite dry. The mavrodaphne sauce was spritely and rustic, but the exposed flesh was overcooked to the point where it absorbed the moisture in my mouth. The shaved leek accompaniment was flavorful and had good consistency, but couldn’t distract me from the 800 lb. pork loin in the room.

For dessert, I chose the Walnut Profiteroles, and quite glad I did. When pressed with a fork, a little cream squirted onto the plate and mixed with the chocolate drizzle in a pretty marbled pool. The brilliant addition of sticky, crunchy walnuts to this popular French dessert was a thoughtful and simple upgrade. Definitely the house pastry. 

The execution at Prive needs to match the level of ambition and stunning grandeur of the environment. The menu is, bar none, one of the most interesting in Philadelphia. I believe they have right space and people running the business, but a more meticulous eye needs to watch the plates going out. At the very least, go grab a table by the icicle light-stranded windows and peoplewatch. Because we all WANT a reason to take back Old City for ourselves, and Prive should be the place to do it.

– Collin Flatt