Philadelphia Weekly

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Think pig: Fork’s pork chop, served with sugar snap peas, is as thick as a phone book.

Photo by Michael Persico

Under 14-foot ceilings and inside-out chandeliers, Ellen Yin doesn’t walk so much as float through the dining room at her restaurant Fork. Graceful. Gracious. She works the room without “working the room,” with the polite swagger of someone who’s been doing this for a very long time.

In October, Fork will turn 12, and though that may not seem like a very long time, in this industry, it’s an eternity. On an Old City stretch stacked with legends, Fork is one of the old heads—its square, cast-concrete bar having played host to the Clinton-era tastemakers—a rendezvous hidden from Market Street by velvet drapes and ceiling-skimming palms.

The Old City of 1997 feels like a sepia- toned photograph. Long ago, the in-crowd relocated north and south, leaving clubgoers and Japanese tourists to breed in the cobblestone streets. But Fork has endured and transformed—from neighborhood bistro to bona fide destination restaurant.

In January, Terence Feury became only the fourth chef to command Fork’s open kitchen, taking over for Thien Ngo, who left after seven years. Four chefs in 12 years is a factoid that speaks volumes about what it must be like to work for Yin. Our prodigal waiter, recently returned to Fork after a five-year hiatus, wouldn’t shut up about how great it was working for her—or about Feury’s charcuterie plate, made entirely in-house from the duck prosciutto and boudin noir to the cornichons and dried fruit mostarda. He’d probably have gone into the details of his dental coverage if I’d let him.

Though 68-seat Fork represents a considerable downsizing for Feury, who recently parted ways with 400-seat Villanova behemoth Maia, his calendar-conscious approach—the glistening, thick-as-the-Yellow-Pages pork chop, smoked over hickory and served with crunchy sugar snap peas, was a juicy, light-hearted harbinger of spring—falls right into line with Fork’s fresh philosophy.

Yin went to Wharton, but got a second education bartending at Judy Wicks’ White Dog Cafe, where chef Anne- Marie Lasher was doing fresh and local way back when farmers were just farmers, rather than local heroes worthy of menu shout-outs. When it came time to open Fork, Yin recruited Lasher as her chef.

Nearly 12 years later, Fork still feels fresh, and the Marguerite Rodgers (Lacroix, XIX) interior has a timelessly stylish way about it. I found not a pretentious bone in the bistro’s body—except maybe when it was presumed we’d be having bottled water. I slum it with tap, thanks.

The down-to-earth, uncomplicated style extends to Feury’s menu, printed daily, with dishes like grilled chicken livers cinched with bacon. The offal were crisp outside, creamy inside and served along an elegant sherry-splashed arugula salad. The night I dined, the excellent bacon hailed from Green Meadow Farm. Now Feury is curing and smoking his own.

But dude’s equally adept at seafood. I loved his North Carolina bay scallops, like sweet sea candies softly sauteed and tossed with fragrant tarragon butter, pine nuts, sharp pickled cherry peppers and elastic, al dente, house-made angel hair.

Pan-roasted New England cod was gorgeously rendered with a crunchy, caramel-colored crust from little more than salt, pepper and a well-seasoned cast-iron skillet. Underneath, flake flake flake, each bite of fish falling off into a white wine broth enlivened with pretty little New Zealand cockles, blood orange and basil.

The fingernail-sized clams were salty treasures, but heated through, the citrus supremes turned bitter and stringy, and the basil lost its lively licorice notes. Paired as a raw, cool salad atop the cod, it would have been perfect.

Feury collaborates with chef Scott Stolp on desserts. Served with warm Valrhona ganache for dipping, the grown-up cookie plate brought brittle, airy amaretti, chewy pistachio-and-cherry-studded biscotti, classic chocolate chips, golden coconut macaroons, white-chocolate pecan sandies and citrus sablés that dissolved in my mouth into millions of lemony crumbs.

Or create your own dessert tapas plate with the charming “Small Bites.” Pick two for $6.50, three for $9 or four for $11. I recommend the zingy, springy ginger crème caramel; elegant tapioca pudding under star anise-spiced blackberry gelee; or the house-made candies like decadent truffles, crunchy rochés and tropical passion fruit pâtes-de-fruits. The confections were small in size but big in flavor and personality. Not unlike Fork itself.