Before the doors opened at Mémé, they already had the most badass logo in town. But can David Katz’s food follow through on what Ralph Steadman’s look teases? Collin Flatt finds out after the jump.

I run down Spruce Street every day. It’s good for the heart and mind, I’m a people watcher. When Melograno shuttered, it took away one of my favorite parts of the daily jog: Wine Watching. I have voyeuristic curiosity when running past a BYO.

I almost decided to change my route until the appearance of a photocopied logo on the craftpaper-covered glass door: messy and beautiful, completely insane and sturdy at the same time. ‘Mémé’, it said. A Steadman. For me, this automatically brings the noise and hype. I couldn’t wait to get a look inside.

When the paper came down and the doors unlocked, I was shocked. Neutral cherry wood tables, clean-cut servers, and a blackboard menu stood in place of acid-fueled landscape paintings, dehumanized humanoids, and paint splatter. Was I in the wrong place? After the etherially decadent Foie Gras Tart appeared, I was surely in the right place. David Katz’s food is in the logo. Fear not, my Gonzo friends.

Finding a good foie gras dish automatically makes me a return customer at any establishment. Warm apples sit atop a tart base, touched by maple sherry and sweet onions, while the star of the show takes its place as the crown. Slightly candied to give it a crispy shell, the goose liver keeps the others flavors in line. Even at $17, this dish is worth every penny, and I would have gladly paid $20. The delicacy with which Katz handles his salt seasoning is a theme throughout the meal that cannot be overstated.

The Cherry Tomatoes were another hit. Sourced from Greensgrow Farms, the little darlings had varied coloring that spanned yellow to purple, and all shades in between. The delicately shaved ricotta salata was almost as precious as the ‘garlic bread’: thinly sliced, tiny, and charred in the best way possible. The dish screamed adorable without sacrificing any taste.

The Flatbread is everything the logo represents and the space does not. A balancing act of controlled chaos. The bread is crisp and drizzled with olive oil to get the ball rolling. The goat cheese was just mellow enough, the prosicutto not too salty, the brine and grit of halved black olives providing the seasoning of this local masterpiece. Any misstep in element proportion would be a trainwreck. They should call this dish the Steadman. He’d be down.

The appropriately named Duck Breast was just that. I love my game birds to retain their sense of place and Katz’s rendition had immense duckishness. Again, the seasoning is startlingly pinpoint, and the beets are a perfect, albeit expected, sideshow. The chard was a nice touch as both veggies reside in the beet family, yet have completely different flavors and textures. Well thoughtout dish, and pretty execution/presentation.

For meat and potatoes, I gave the Skirt Steak a ride, an evolution on the classic dish. Thinly sliced and bloody as hell, the pile of belly sinew before me was a canopy for mushrooms and fingerling potatoes. Doused in a brandy sauce and finished with charred asparagus, it sounded ordinary but tasted unlike any steak dish I’ve had. Simply choosing different cooking methods and textures reinvigorated the classic for me.

Rittenhouse isn’t often a culinary destination. Historically, there’s been a dearth of food creativity in the upscale neighborhood.  Mémé teased at something special, something different, with the spattered logo by a legendary madman. David Katz exceeded the hype, and his efforts can be called nothing short of insanely great. Gonzo, even.

– Collin Flatt