Philadelphia Weekly

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How many more Italian BYOBs can Philadelphia handle?

Each time one of these indie restaurants crops up along East Passyunk or around Rittenhouse Square, it begs the question: Is local love of homemade gnocchi and veal scaloppine boundless? Will we ever tire of eating tiramisu while listening to recorded pop opera? Does a just-opened trattoria pilfer business from the already established trattoria down the street?

Although Philly could do a whole lot worse than continue down its current path of becoming a city of Italian BYOBs, it's still a shame that Center City restaurateurs haven't seen fit to open a nice Korean BYO-OB Lager, or a cozy BYO-Rioja Spanish place. (We're a little thin on Thai too.)

But Italian BYOs are what we've got. Now we've got to figure out which are worth your dime.

Let's start with Ava, a five-month-old black-awninged spot that belongs to brothers Michael and Anthony Campagna. (Michael's the chef. Anthony's the business guy.)

Ava, like its name, is cute in a tasteful, modern way. Wooden tiles create a classy drop ceiling; terra cotta tiles pave the floor. The walls are deep gold. The tables have cloths.

Some nights there's a strange dinnertime show, courtesy of another rapidly multiplying local phenomenon: the ugly parking garage.

The show isn't really a show, but a distraction visible through the restaurant's front windows. Just outside, the garage's attendant stands in the middle of Third Street, waving motorists in with a bright orange flag. As he swipes the air with his neon banner, he seems (from inside the restaurant) to be performing an erratic dance choreographed to the dramatic vocal stylings of Andrea Bocelli.

Like its legion newish BYOB brethren, Ava is medium-priced. The menu's most expensive dish is a $24 grilled filet wrapped in pancetta and served over grilled eggplant with smoked mozzarella. Its least expensive is a half-order of the risotto of the day--usually vegetarian, and usually a reasonable $9.

One worthy indulgence is the $9 pile of lemon vinaigrette-glossed arugula with shaved Parmesan, white beans and roll-ups of tissue-thin smoked speck ham--a refined, more flavorful, harder-to-find cousin of prosciutto.

Another winner is a brimming bowlful of plump Prince Edward Island mussels--not a dud in the bunch--that give off saltwater steam from beneath a crimson jumble of sliced red long hots, plum tomatoes, pancetta cubes, fennel and cross-sectioned garlic cloves. Beneath the black shells, orange broth offers subtle chili spice. When the shellfish's accompanying crostini--a little burnt--runs out, there's Italian bread for dipping in the leftover liquid.

A half-order of four ravioli is nicely al dente, each round thin cushion giving way to an interior of finely chopped pork sausage, spinach and ricotta. A thick, rich, almost grainy fontina cream sauce blankets the pouches.

Grilled salmon is a generous filet balanced on a mound of buttery mashed potatoes. Dressed in a barely sweet balsamic vinaigrette, the fish is tasty, but could be crisper. The white asparagus alongside--a nice seasonal touch--are delicious at their tips, but too tough along the stems.

Homemade buca- tini (dense, chewy dreadlock-y noodles) are satisfying, as are the half-dozen or so shrimp--split up the back, their tails on--crowning the pasta. This straightforward dish--doused in a simple mix of white wine, fresh basil and tomato--tastes like summer.

Fresh mint blended with olive oil and a squeeze of lemon cleverly coats a tender, perfectly medium rare rack of lamb. More mint pesto (this time mixed with parsley and lemon peel) also swathes two stem-to-leaves halves of a tender artichoke. Beneath it lie yummy roasted new potatoes.

For dessert, Campagna stuffs a soft crepe with cannoli filling and prepares a decent trio of creme brulees (chocolate chocolate chip, amaretto and not-quite-ripe mango). He also makes mascarpone cheesecake with chestnut honey sauce, chocolate torte, panna cotta with rhubarb compote and eight varieties of homemade gelato and sorbet, served on square pizzelles.

It's a lot to choose from. But here in Philly, it seems there's no such thing as too much of a good thing.