Le Bec Fin, Philadelphia - Good Taste is the Worst Vice

I never ate at Le Bec Fin when I lived in Philadelphia, but I was always aware of it – it was the storied, quintessential fine dining destination. Whenever I walked by its elegant entrance on Walnut St, I thought, someday I’ll go.

Earlier this week, I finally made it to Le Bec Fin. I stepped into the small lobby and was immediately greeted by name – impressive yet always a bit unexpected. I suppose it was easy enough, since I was the only party of one arriving at 1pm.

The dining room is classic and lovely, with immense glittering chandeliers, gilded molding, mirrors, and large paintings. After settling in and admiring the scene, I ordered the lunch tasting menu and some Burgundy.

First, escargots, swimming in garlicky butter in a tiny copper pan. They were very close in flavor to the traditional bistro escargots, only more sophisticated, and with a subtle texture from chopped hazelnuts. I used my bread to soak up every last bit of the rich sauce.

Next, scallops, seared and topped with a complex array of garnishes – shaved asparagus, a carrot foam, and black garlic ash. This is undoubtedly the first time I’ve eaten garlic ash, which added a striking accent to the plate but didn’t have a noticeable flavor. On the side, a dollop of intensely citrusy sauce, which added a hint of sweetness and acidity.

It’s amazing how far removed the dining room feels from the noisy street outside. Watching my fellow diners sitting back and enjoying their two or three hour lunches, I thought of Tennyson’s poem The Lotos Eaters –

How sweet it were, hearing the downward stream,

With half-shut eyes ever to seem

Falling asleep in a half-dream!

…

We have had enough of action, and of motion we,
Roll’d to starboard, roll’d to larboard, when the surge was seething free,
Where the wallowing monster spouted his foam-fountains in the sea.
Let us swear an oath, and keep it with an equal mind,
In the hollow Lotos-land to live and lie reclined

On the hills like Gods together, careless of mankind.

Lunch continued with a cup of mushroom cappuccino, a simple soup topped with foamed milk and scented with white pepper. It was a bit too hot, so I sipped it slowly and enjoyed the feeling that I, too, was free of responsibilities and deadlines – at least for an afternoon.

For the final course, there was squab. It was flavorful and nicely cooked, if perhaps a bit straightforward, with cherry and mushroom.

Finally, dessert. While the famed dessert cart doesn’t make an appearance at lunch (too bad), I could still have my pick of all the pastry options from the menu. I chose the frozen Grand Marnier souffle, Gateau Le Bec Fin, and the Tarte du Jour.

The three desserts complemented each other nicely, each representing a different flavor profile. The frozen souffle was light and sweet and faintly citrusy; the Gateau was chocolatey and infused with rum; the Tarte du Jour was a dense, moist cake paved with peaches.

I happily rotated among the three, unable to decide which was my favorite. When my dessert was finished, I sipped the last of my wine and braced myself to return to the real world.

Le Bec Fin feels to me like a throwback to a more genteel era, a time of long, elegant lunches and afternoons featuring nothing more taxing than a stroll through Rittenhouse Square. The food is classic, the service is correct, and the room is plush. All in all, a lovely way to spend an afternoon.

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