Swallow Review: New Kids on the Walk
In Old City, diners would be vying for tables at which to sample the succulent roast chicken, which features a moist and flavorful Black Feather hen. The duck-fat-sautéed fingerling potatoes served alongside threaten to outshine the bird. Pork loin, from the heritage Berkshire breed prized by chefs and gourmets for its fat content and flavor, is perfectly cooked and tender, glistening beneath a compound butter of herbs and shallots. And the kitchen is choosy; on several visits, menu items were 86’d for not meeting a certain standard. A bone marrow appetizer was axed for a particular delivery’s inferiority; a chocolate bread pudding that sounded appealing on the menu was yanked because it failed to wow the chefs.
This might frustrate the polite servers, but it’s a boon for discriminating diners. You’ll only see crabcakes, served over a bed of bitter greens, if the kitchen has the pricey premium jumbo lump crab and the not-always-available treviso, a bitter Italian green related to radicchio. Like many of the straightforward dishes at Swallow, this seemingly pedestrian menu item relies on balance and restraint to make it a success. There are no pushy spices to overwhelm the crab; the light, lemony dressing allows the salad of treviso, radicchio and frisée to taste pure and clean. A simply seared tuna steak is another illustration of this food wisdom. Served rare, with a kalamata olive tapenade to complement the fish’s oceanic sweetness, the dish flies in face of the conceits of the molecular gastronomy craze.
Vegetarian dishes have proven popular in Northern Liberties, but Swallow’s menu conspicuously lacks an always-meatless entrée. The restaurant does have at least one exceptional vegetarian offering in its earthy and balanced fennel salad, which mixes thin-shaved fennel, mushrooms and parmesan in a lemon vinaigrette. Though not an entrée, it’s flavorful and hearty enough to make the center of a meal. The quiche-of-the-day special is often vegetarian. A recent iteration boasted leeks and blue cheese in a decadent, savory custard. Not light, but the kind of dish even an anti-foie activist could love.
Desserts are the rustic recipes you often find in pastry-chef-less restaurants. A recent lemon tart special paired a less-than-lemony filling with a coarse shortbread crust. Swallow’s most successful sweets rely on good execution of basic techniques, like the rich crème brûlée, flecked with vanilla bean and topped with a thick, burnished layer of caramelized sugar.
The restaurant is named for a classic tattoo design, which does seem to fit right into the hipper-than-thou ethos of this former industrial district, whose denizens are thoroughly inked. Swallow’s brand of unfussy bistro fare adds something surprisingly unpretentious to the theme-parkish shopping mall of Liberties Walk, where cutesy cupcake bakeries and high-end pet boutiques now set the tone. But to thrive here without a bar scene, this chef-driven restaurant will need wine-toting food enthusiasts from all corners of the city to fill tables, snap up the bone marrow, and ease tensions about the absence of tofu.
