Don't miss the smoked pork rillette with Korean BBQ sauce. It’s at the top of the menu and is perhaps the most pointed example of Sabatino’s modern notion of borderless but firmly rooted locality.
Go with the four-course fixed-price menu—you’ll get the same fun amuse-bouches as your six-course-ordering neighbors.
By the sweet-potato pâté with grain mustard and toast, proof that smartly handled veggies can hold their own against proteins any day.
Don't miss the beet steak. It’s been Lawler’s signature since he opened, and for good reason. It isn’t often that the lowly beet can be reasonably compared to the finest cuts of beef.
The maccheroni alla mugnaia is a single noodle—a six-foot-long hand-rolled ode to chewiness, dosed with garlic and chili flakes.
Maturity aside, Kevin Sbraga’s food is still fun. And nowhere is it more fun than at his chef’s counter, where he himself often cooks for six people.
With Fond’s new location comes a fully-stocked bar—though you’re still allowed to BYO on weekdays.
The tiramisu, which is often available even if it’s not printed on the menu, is possibly the best version of the ubiquitous dessert that you’ve ever had.
The coursed wine pairings show what happens when an inspired sommelier mind-melds with a master chef.
Tuesdays feature four courses—plus the odd amuse-bouche—for $45. If Only: There were a spot to wait for your table without looming (and salivating) over someone else’s.
Owner Doug Hager wants to do for German beer in Philadelphia what Tom Peters of Monk’s Cafe did for the Belgians. And he’s well on his way, with never-before-seen beers arriving monthly.
You'd be surprised to know that Osteria isn’t as expensive as you might think. You can eat comfortably for well under $100 per person. Not cheap, but a great value for what you get on your plate.
The easy vibe at Vernick make it one of those rare restaurants that can suit so many things: dinner with food-snob friends, cocktails with a gal pal, a meal with the non-adventurous in-laws.
You should probably know that Collingswood police take the whole DUI thing very seriously. If you’re driving from Philly and bringing your own, mind the consumption.
Peruse the iPad wine-and-drinks list and head toward the cocktails, where local ingredients and spirits will make any citizen’s ego swell with pride.
The Dandelion has a warren of dining rooms on different floors, all done up in varying levels of kitsch, but the best seats in the house are still at the crowded main bar on the first floor.
When the hostess says “Do you like to sit near all the action in the kitchen?,” what she really means is, “Do you want to sit next to our blazingly hot tandoor ovens?” Don’t bother bringing a sweater.
Despite the challenging location (inside the Cira Center, across from the Amtrak station), JG Domestic often still sports a line of people waiting for tables. Plan accordingly.
Whatever your budget, be sure to befriend sommelier Philipe Sauriat, who can find gems at almost any price point.
Service is slow and can sometimes be forgetful, so sit at the sushi bar for an expedited meal.
The servers are shockingly well versed on the extensive sherry list and can help you choose the glass that best suits your order.
The slow-cooked suckling pig is cured for 15 hours in salt, sugar and herbs, buried in pig fat, then slow-roasted for another 12. This piggy is worth every minute of the wait.
Don’t miss the best pretzels anywhere, elevated by a beer-cheese sauce that makes them a worthy addition to any last-night-on-Earth fantasy menu.
What’s rare is a place like Pub & Kitchen, where one can make a meal out of the sides—that is, if you don’t feel weird sitting at the bar and eating “Guts and Glory” chicken stuffing with a spoon.
The late-night menu offers $3 drafts, $5 wine and $10 pizza, Sunday to Thursday, 10:30 to midnight.
About those dips … pray that the creamy, salty carp roe version is in the rotation on your visit.
Apologies in advance to Sovana’s cadre of faithful regulars for blowing up your spot—we’re just jealous that this is your neighborhood joint and not ours.
Don’t miss the escargots stewed in a fennel Pernod cream—decadent enough to feel French and unfussy enough to be likeable.
If you walk out of here without eating the snails, someone should just punch you. Especially if you’re the kind of person who normally doesn’t eat snails.
Miss the crowd by dining at Saturday brunch. The menu changes regularly, but the impeccable service and the sweet, meaty lobster roll always stay the same.
You’d be crazy to skip the Baked Alaska. Or the chance to dine here on someone else’s dime.
While dinners at Lacroix recently went fully prix fixe, if you ask nicely you can still order individual items off the tasting menu in an à la carte fashion.
Go on the early side—before seven—to grab one of the mondo wooden booths that comfortably fit six.
The regular menu is there for those who want to play it safe. The tasting menus exist to please those looking for something more challenging and to give the kitchen space to flex its muscles.
The food is served family-style and is meant for sharing. Oh, and don’t forget to bring a bottle (or two) as well, because Koo Zee Doo is BYO.
Percy Street already pours the best root beer float in town (Yards root beer and homemade vanilla ice cream), but go during happy hour and you can spike yours with a half-price shot of bourbon.
Despite all the wild flourishes of color and flavor, the plain honey doughnut that comes alongside every order of chicken is still the best breakfast weapon in the FedNuts arsenal.
The seasonal cocktails at Mica are a revelation—not at all what you’d expect from a restaurant that doesn’t have a bar.
When the weather’s good, a glass of wine, a board of cheese, the setting sun and a constant breeze make this the quickest and most beautiful escape in Philadelphia.
Dress fashionably. The French hostess with the severe black bangs notices diners with a bit of European flair—and seats them at prime tables by the windows.
