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Last month, while driving through Northern Liberties, I noticed Modo Mio. I had never heard of it, so I made a note to look it up online and in the Zagat Survey. The 2008 edition gave no rating, but said chef Peter McAndrews, who once worked at Rembrandt’s, offers a $30 prix fixe menu.
Cousin Carl and I decided to try it. I brought along a bottle of Mark West Pinot Noir and off we went to this BYOB.
The place was a madhouse. People were waiting for a table in a dark, crowded room. Carl and I waited about 30 minutes or so only because a party of two is easier to seat. We squeezed into a tiny table by the window and discussed the menu. The hostess filled our water glasses and we waited and waited.
The noise level was the highest I have ever had to endure in a restaurant. Carl and I were yelling at each other in lieu of conversation. Finally, an assistant waiter brought us some bread, which he sliced from a huge round loaf sitting on an antique sideboard in the entranceway.
Finally, our wine open, a man came over with a frown. He told us about the four-course $30 menu and left.
At Modo Mio you choose an antipasto, pasta, entrée and dolce. It seemed like a bargain. Money-wise it was; cucina-wise it was not.
We began dinner with "sformato" and "porcini." The first was a crab-and-potato cake sitting in some broth with a bit of pecorino. The crab was sweet and good-quality, but the dish was cold.
The "porcini" was a disaster. The menu states "crispy fried porcini, Taleggio fonduta." I received a small fried mushroom that contained a portion of Taleggio the size of an infant’s thumbnail drowned in a horrible, viscous balsamic vinegar. I could not savor the flavor of the wild mushroom or the cheese because of the heavy vinegar.
Next up were the pastas, which arrived about 30 minutes after someone took our first-course plates away. We selected "bucatini" and "agnolotti." Bucatini is a marvelous spaghetti-like pasta that is thicker and has a hole running through the center. It was prepared with scallops and arugula. I think there was one large scallop in the bowl, but could not tell because it was so dark in the room. Either way, the dish was cold.
My pasta arrived without heat as well. The little pillows were filled with artichoke, which I barely tasted, and mascarpone tossed in a light butter sauce with a hint of almonds.
"I think they might be tasty if they were hot," I said to Carl.
Another half-hour crawled by and we were finally able to ask someone for more bread. An assistant waiter placed a small burnt piece on my plate. I told him it was charred and he gave me another small sample.
Finally Carl’s "coda di rospo" and my "anatra" came. Oh dear. Carl’s was a piece of monkfish wrapped in proscuitto and topped with tomato, pine nuts and raisins. It was cold.
My duck was a mess. Not only was it also cold, but it consisted of a few pieces of poultry overwhelmed by the dreaded, yucky balsamic vinegar. The menu states the dish is "thin-seared duck breast, orange glaze and horseradish gremolata." I could not taste any orange or horseradish. Gremolata usually contains parsley, garlic and the zest of an orange or lemon. Now horseradish can be grated … oh, how pretentious.
You pay $4 for the "contorni," which are sides. Modo Mio was out of broccoli rabe so we went for mashed potatoes and carrots, both of which were as cold as our other dishes.
Finally, we were able to get someone over to tell them our dinners were cold. Back they went, but, when they came out, it was not much better.
The desserts consisted of a rubbery crepe filled with Nutella and a small slice of nut pie.
Service was atrocious. The hostess walked around with a water pitcher when she should have been pressed into service.
Carl and I spent nearly three hours at Modo Mio. Three hours of cold food and unbearable noise did not make a four-course $30 dinner seem like such a bargain.
One-half tip of the toque to Modo Mio.
Modo Mio
161 W. Girard Ave. at Hancock Street
215-203-8707
Cash only
