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Avenue 805
From the outside, this is an inviting place, slightly off the beaten patch, behind a Pizza Hut on busy Broad Street in the Fan. At night lights twinkle on bushes between benches under a burgundy canopy. Inside, however, it’s a somewhat different story. Chef-owner Andy Howell, who took over about five years ago, displays a philosophy, lightly disguised as a sense of humor, that may be off-putting—more condescending than clever—to diners who aren’t regulars, although there appear to be plenty of the later. It’s a small, intimate place, 60 seats including an active bar, which is the only place where smoking permitted, and a number of two-top booths, along with larger ones along a wall that features local art and sculpture, votive candles in metal vines and racks of wine. Any romantic mood, however, is jarred by the casually dressed wait staff—jeans, t-shirts, bare midriffs and micro-minis—who would make you feel at home keeping your trucker’s hat on. It’s a bit like the popular West End restaurant Patina, without the patina. Howell is a big, hulking friendly-enough guy, but his menu reads like the “new rules” posted by Bill Maher on his popular HBO show: No children, no cell phones, no separate checks, no talking with your mouth full. Well, it’s not quite that bad, but let Howell’s words speak for themselves: “Screaming babies will be apprehended and sold for scientific experiment.” “Cell phones off, dammit. We’re not kidding.” “If you are mathematically challenged and MUST have separate checks, tell your server before ordering” and “no more than two credit cards per table…” “Don’t run with scissors. Don’t speak with your mouth full.” And he’s not kidding. Asked if the restaurant has high chairs, he said, “We don’t encourage people to bring children,” which for a neighborhood spot must cut down on potential customers. If this were a quiet, high-end place with top-notch cuisine, some of the rules might be reasonable, although a really classy place wouldn’t need to post them. All of which is a shame, because the food can be pretty darn good. About half of the menu is devoted to weekly specials, with the permanent offerings built around pastas with a choice of five noodles and five sauces, with or without chicken or veal scaloppini, prepared four ways. The pasta dishes range from $10 to $17, depending on the fixin’s, while the specials are in the upper teens and lower 20s. Regular starters include a bowl of Prince Edward Island mussels, with red or white sauce, and a combo of griddled shrimp, scallops and crab cakes. There also is the “soup of the moment,” which recently was Manhattan-style claim chowder with a mild red sauce. The specials, which lean heavily to seafood, show off Howell’s talent in the kitchen, which in earlier incarnations was on display at the Zeus Gallery Café and Portabella, greatly missed in Old Town Petersburg. A first-rate oyster stew is cooked to order and the wait is worthwhile: Six large Chincoteague oysters in a rich cream sauce punctuated with bites of bacon and kale. A winter caprese salad contains healthy chunks of fresh mozzarella cheese in a balsamic reduction with pasta, mixed greens and smartly substituted fire roasted red peppers for tomatoes. There is usually a salmon dish. One with black beans, potatoes, onions and broccoli was a bit overcooked, but not so much to impair its flavor. Sautéed sea scallops are another standby. An interesting version came with spicy Andouille sausage and shallots, all tossed with penne in a Fontina cheese sauce. For lunch, a curry chicken salad sandwich, seated on a long slice of grilled bread, was lifted out of the ordinary with a topping of Granny Smith apple slices, although the accompanying clump of potato salad was strictly commonplace. Another standout luncheon special combined baked scallops and country ham in a breaded crust. Desserts made on the premises include Key lime pie, bread pudding, chocolate pate pie and chocolate lava cake. Howell is getting ready to open a second venue, to be called Café Rustica, in Shockoe Slip on Main Street between Fourth and Fifth Streets. Let’s hope he brings along his culinary skills, but leaves his cuteness behind. |
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