The heart of South Philadelphia -- home of Rocky, Pat's and Geno's, and just blocks from the Italian Market -- hardly seems like the place for a small French BYOB. Yet just across the street from the U.S. Vietnam Express Inc. travel company sits Pif, chef David Ansill's charming little restaurant.
And I do mean little. Call early if you want a seat. Yet what it lacks in size it makes up for in verve, with a menu that changes every day, a cute snail theme and ingredients that scream, in the words of my date, "Hello! I went to the fish market this morning!"
Nevertheless, Pif is a quiet place, a welcome relief from BYOBs like Astral Plane, whose hard floors and bare walls raise noise levels to unbearable levels. Pif, rather, is a neighborly sort of place, the sort of place where you are asked to put your cell phones on silent.
As I pondered the ambiance, the amuse bouche arrived, and two crisped bread slices, one with a fine pesto, the other with tomatoes, whetted our appetites.
The ever-changing menu is elegant in the European mode. Items are not dissected in detail. Rather, they are assigned a simple title, in either French or English seemingly at whim, and picky eaters must ask their server for details.
Two menu items that don't change are the escargots au pernod ($9.50) and the foie gras terrine ($18). Given the restaurant's snail theme, I chose the escargots, which did not disappoint. The earthy flavors of snails and nuts blend well. Elegantly presented on a head of garlic cooked to buttery softness, the bulb doesn't overwhelm the other flavors, but you risk consuming the more bitter bits -- a shame, as the dish's elements work so well together.
My plat principal, veal medallions with tarragon ($23), arrived on a plate arranged well, but less spectacularly than the escargots. The flavors made up for any imperfection in appearance. The veal was tender and savory, the potatoes au gratin perfectly crisped and the green beans cooked just right -- not raw, not limp.
The cheese plate took full advantage of Pif's emphasis on quality ingredients, with a dry, powdery Comte, a creamy Bouk emissaire and a Roquefort papillon that made me a convert to the notoriously smelly cheeses. The server's recommended order proved perfect, with the smooth Bouk on bread chasing the dry Comte on apple slices, and the Roquefort finishing the course.
The dessert menu is classic French, and well-executed with some nice regional additions like coupe Lorraine.
With a neighbor-friendly feel and belly-friendly fare, the only thing separating Pif from a real French bistro is the size of the check.
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