Also this issue:

Jonesing
Comfort food that lives up to the name at the latest Starr outpost on Chestnut.
-Maxine Keyser

October 3- 9, 2002

food

New Identities

A restaurant by any other name…

by Elisa Ludwig

El Viejo San Juan

(Formerly known as: Tapas)

El Viejo San Juan, née Tapas, was created when owners Sedo and Virginia Sanchez, who ran the building’s former incarnation, decided to bring an authentic Puerto Rican fine dining experience to Philadelphia. After considerable research, they have come up with their own twist on cucina criolla, or Creole cuisine.

But there are Spanish paellas and a Caesar salad on the menu, too, and a one-to-one appetizer-to-entree ratio that makes it easy to dine in Mediterranean style (and thus evoke images of Tapas past).

The shrimp and mahi mahi ceviche with lime juice could have used a bit more zip, but it more importantly avoided the rubbery end that has befallen so many ceviches before it.

Better is the mofongo, garlic-sauteed plantain cups filled with baby seafood in a rich tomato sauce, and the singular Caldo Santo, a “holy broth” of coconut milk laden with squid, fish, shrimp and clams, and chunks of green banana, malanga and yautia (taro root). This dish, based on an old traditional recipe is, according to its makers, the only one of its kind in Philadelphia.

Third St. and Girard Ave., 215-922-2376.

Il Villaggio

(Formerly known as: La Grolla)

Lovely old La Grolla, staple for game feasts and amaretto-cookie-stuffed tortellini, closed last spring when its owners decided to retire. In its place, restaurateurs Michael Fanelli and Daniele Zuddas have renovated the interior and de-exoticized the menu.

The “forest,” a salad of greens, gorgonzola, roasted figs and pear slices, is a respectable first course of classic ingredients. The “garden,” a dish of broccoli rabe sauteed with garlic and baby shrimp surrounded by plum tomato slices, looks better than it tastes: The shrimp are mushy and the citrus dressing (read: lemon juice) is not robust enough to break the bitterness of the greens.

Chicken Milanese, crisply breaded and topped with sauteed arugula and tissue-thin slices of parmesan, errs on the dry side of bland. A special of butternut squash ravioli held the only true hint of past glory. Served with pumpkin seeds and a buttery cream sauce, it had all the rich and sweet luxury that a starchy vegetable wrapped in pasta should.

Service began emphatically (no less than three different offers for beverages) but ended at a dreadfully slow clip, leaving us marooned on the island of waiting-for-the-check. Il Villaggio may have an unfair burden to live up to -- decades-long memories of homemade salsa and kibitzing with the chef -- but it’s going to take a lot more effort to make us forget its predecessor.

782 S. Second St., 215-627-7701.