A 23-course discussion on Philly’s most acrobatic new restaurant

Provenance is the most ambitious fine dining restaurant to open in Philly in a minute — and the most over-the-top French haute cuisine situation it’s seen in years. When it was announced, chef Nicholas Bazik, a veteran of the Philly scene, did little to tamp down expectations, declaring in an interview that Provenance would be a restaurant “that can’t be replicated anywhere with food that can’t be reproduced — because it shouldn’t be. It isn’t meant to be full of regulars.”

In his recent review, Inquirer critic Craig LaBan noted, “When you’re paying $225 to sit down for a 2½ hour dinner (figure between $700 or $800 for two all-in with tip and tax, depending on what you drink), there isn’t much room for error.” He found, however, that “details… too frequently marred the bigger picture,” resulting in “only about half of the 47 compositions I tasted over two meals [being] a complete success.”

Deputy editor Margaret Eby and food reporter Kiki Aranita also experienced Provenance’s extravagant, 23-course dinner, and walked away with their own distinct impressions. Given its unique place in the Philly restaurant scene and the opportunity to walk through how critics and food journalists evaluate restaurants, Provenance seemed to merit further discussion. What follows is a conversation between Craig, Margaret, and Kiki, who all dined there the same night, but at different times.

Craig LaBan, restaurant critic: I was out to dinner the day that article came out introducing Provenance, and Bazik’s brash interview with Mike Klein was all anyone wanted to talk about. People were genuinely offended that he had implied Philly’s restaurants were second rate.

As a critic, though, I wanted to separate myself from that chatter. I very much wanted this review to be a reflection on my own experiences at Provenance, to let it rise and fall on its own real merits.

Margaret Eby, deputy food editor: I think that interview set the stakes of the meal really high. It was, for me, an expectation that this guy has a vision and he’s coming in hot here. He’s thrown down the gauntlet.

I went to French culinary school. Bazik made it really clear from the jump that he’s a guy in the long tradition of French cuisine, and that’s what Provenance is a reflection of. And so I went in both excited — I’m a sauce nerd too, let’s go.

Kiki Aranita, food reporter (and chef): I interview so many cautious chefs with PR people hovering. It’s so boring. I want the Philly guy to stick his foot in his mouth, you know?

CL: Over the course of my meals there, and also in post-meal interview conversations with Nich, it became clear he was aiming for something very, very specific.

I LOVE the idea of updating classic French sauces, from Albufera to salmis. Making great sauces with depth and subtlety is a dying art in this town — and I suspect across America — as kitchens drift away from French fundamentals as the starting point. And then you add all the subtle Korean accents Bazik has absorbed into his repertoire through his marriage, and it can all be very exciting. I appreciate this concept is not a gimmick, but organic to Nich’s personal experience.

ME: I do wish it leaned a bit more into the Korean influence! To me, those were the most exciting and interesting parts of the meal. Bazik can make a sauce. That much is clear. There’s a lot of technique on the menu, and much of it is extremely advanced and delicate. Where the meal fell down, for me, is that the technique often seemed like it was on the plate for its own sake, rather than being in the service of flavor.

KA: For me, the story of Provenance is Nich’s biography. I love how he uses Korean ingredients in non-Korean ways, how he sources from around us in Philly, and how he applies his French training to things. I don’t love the American vision of the traditional French restaurant, where cream and butter star, so I was really happy to see that.

My gut was pleased, too. I’m allergic to crustaceans, so they replaced the shrimp in the snacks course with a baby carrot. It was such a creative substitution. The overall experience reminded me and my husband Ari [Miller, previously of Musi] more of the food we had recently in Lyon and Paris, and less of say, Le Bec Fin. There’s a playfulness to the menu that I have very rarely seen.

CL: I agree about the playfulness — you see that in the swordfish dish with three sauces, which they encourage you to smear together. It’s meant to evoke a steakhouse plate, and sort of irreverent considering all the work that went into making them so pretty.

The setting is beautiful and so are many of the dishes, visually. But too many details tripped several of those plates up. They had one element out of register — to the point where, for me, the tasting never got rolling in a coherent way.

KA: Was everything I had perfect? No — but I’m not looking for perfection. I thought this was the most delicious tasting menu I’ve had in months. Every dish felt new. This is a rare feeling.

ME: I keep thinking about the dish that had bluefin tuna and truffles, this intensely prepared stack of rare ingredients, and all that nuance was completely washed out by this very powerful gastrique. It seemed so emblematic of the problem: No single element of the dish was poorly done, but the combination of those elements was unbalanced and didn’t taste good.

KA: Fine dining can be so incredibly lazy these days, relying on wagyu, foie, caviar, and truffles. Gold leaf is stupid. It tastes like literally nothing. It’s refreshing to me when someone is doing fine dining but doesn’t rely on those tired luxuries — are they still luxuries if you can get them everywhere?

ME: But Kiki — what about that “stopgap” truffle?

CL: Ahh, the stopgap truffles! Bazich gave us a dish with an apology before we even took a bite, acknowledging that the truffles weren’t ideal. I don’t understand why any ingredient not in its prime would be used in a $225 tasting menu — unless it’s just a reflex to give it the requisite sheen of luxury.

KA: It’s hard getting away from truffles. Diners have come to expect it. I would encourage everyone to try gamtae instead. I don’t think the meal hinged on the truffle, though.

ME: But why include it at all? The truffle illustrates part of the problem. What is this restaurant? Is it just a fancy tasting menu? What’s the point of view here?

KA: Nich, if you’re reading this, you don’t need truffles. I would hope to see Provenance not rely on the wagyu, the bluefin tuna (although we can get that locally-ish and sustainably so in that context please use it), and the truffles (but use Appalachian truffles from Virginia, which come from our region). I want to see Pa. ingredients elevated because I know Nich can do that.

ME: We should also talk about the trout en croute with the overpowering radish chunks.

CL: It’s simply spectacular to look at, but too many things are going on with that dish, where the garnish actually cancels out the delicate crust on that fish. Nich intended to combine two signature dishes from two separate chefs he admires on one plate — a fish en croute from one chef, with the beurre Cancalaise from another. The fish en croute isn’t meant to compete texturally with the sauce. But Cancalaise by definition has a lot of tiny veggies mixed in. Had the radishes been diced much finer (they were bigger on our plate than the brunoise in our photo, which taken later) it might have offered an interesting accent. But they were also too raw, and the radishes overpowered the rest. The balance was out of whack. You can’t always take two separate, complete ideas and combine them successfully.

KA: I didn’t adore that dish. But I would look forward to eating it again (with tinier radishes and less butter). I enjoyed the mackerel dish with the toasted bone marrow breadcrumbs. My absolute favorite thing as a child was a savory applesauce with toasted breadcrumbs and that dish brought me back.

CL: I disliked that mackerel dish a lot. The raw fish was fanned over top, left high and dry, and it was like eating fishy breadcrumbs.

KA: I love fishy breadcrumbs.

ME: I didn’t mind the breadcrumbs as much as Craig did, for sure. For me, what I’m always looking for in a place is a dish I want to come back for, or an interesting marriage of flavors, as much as a cool story or chef virtuosity. And it didn’t hit the mark for me. For example, the porridge at the end that had seven grains but was completely drowned in this super rich hollandaise.

CL: That cup of frothy butter foam was way too rich to eat by course #17. Too big, too rich, too late.

ME: Yeah it was weirdly huge compared to the other offerings. And also all those grains got completely lost in it.

KA: It was like a rich congee. I wanted seconds. I tried to steal Ari’s but he had finished it. Margaret, I would have eaten yours.

We didn’t talk about the marinated vegetables with taramasalata [a Greek spread made with cured or salted roe].

ME: Kiki did you like that dish? I had recently returned from Greece so I was expecting like, TARAMASALATA and instead it was sort of… roe yogurt.

KA: I thought it was fresh and pretty. I’ve had really different versions of taramasalata, even in Greece. I do a tzatziki and taramasalata test there whenever I go to a restaurant before I order larger dishes. I personally prefer a softer, less salty taramasalata, so it suited my palate.

ME: My friend Khushbu Shah has a philosophy that “flavor to the face” is what she’s seeking. And to be honest, that’s also what I want: something memorable. I wish to be punched by a fish.

KA: The sauce rings mentioned earlier, that went with the swordfish, were too… punch-me-in-the-face with the salt.

CL: That was an interesting dish that worked as intended. They told us it was intended to evoke a plate at a steak house. My favorite childhood food was Stouffer’s spinach souffle, so, tell me something is meant to even vaguely evoke creamed spinach, and I’ll likely try to at least give it the benefit of the doubt. The individual sauces were pretty potent, but they came together well as one.

KA: I loved the fig leaf oil on the kanpachi from Baja — fig leaf is one of my absolute favorite ingredients. I love how coconut-y and vanilla-y it is, and those flavors balance the fish nicely.

CL: I’m with Kiki on the kanpachi with fig leaf oil, which was really beautiful — some of the raw dishes were the strongest. I also loved Nich’s riff on trout amandine, which paired cured trout with a bean salad and an ivory froth of white gazpacho made from confit garlic and almonds.

One dish I really loved: the “lettuces” served at the end. This little one-bite bundle of herbs and bitter greens was so cleansing to close the savory portion of the meal.

KA: That was great! I also loved the pine mushroom bouillon with perilla and seaweed.

CL: I loved the idea of it, but didn’t think the subtlety of the garnish at the bottom of the bowl added the desired complexity to the broth. A lot of this reminds me of a music producer playing with an equalizer to balance all the elements of a tune. There are a lot of good ideas on these plates, but flavors — or textures or temperatures — were just out of balance.

CL: Abby Dahan is doing great work there adding fun little twists to classic French cremeux and soufflees (the honeynut squash souffle was fantastic). But what I remember most is a savory sweet ice cream made from Perrystead’s washed rind Moonrise cheese, sandwiched between choux pastry for a genius “cheese course.”

KA: I love love love everything Abby is doing and making and that she’s here.

ME: Abby is doing really killer work, and agree that the dessert was by far the strongest series of courses. I wish that the bread course she did was a little bit more playful or creative — maybe it’s just a matter of how things are evolving. But you could tell that she’s such a dynamo, and I know that the epi baguette didn’t reflect her full prowess in that area.

CL: What I liked was the service. Very personal, not stuffy. The space is also very Philly, at least in its approach and row-home intimacy.

ME: I think we can all agree that the restaurant itself is gorgeous. The experience overall was very, very pleasant! The hospitality is absurdly attentive and good. Everyone was so warm and accommodating.

KA: And attentive without being over attentive.

ME: I‘m gonna say something controversial: 23 courses is too many courses. It’s like a four-hour movie. If you want to take up that much space you REALLY have to keep the pace up, and hook the audience. I can forgive a lot more in a 90-minute (I guess in this scenario like 5 to 7 courses?) than a sprawling epic.

KA: I literally wrote the guide on how to leave a tasting menu because I often can’t bear them. I was intimidated by the prospect of a 25-course tasting menu and a three-hour long dinner. But I left feeling not overstuffed.

CL: 24 dishes is a lot to perfect. Perhaps a smaller tasting, for a little less money, would be a smarter place to start.

KA: If there’s a Provenance Lite I would be a regular.

ME: Yeah, I agree. If there was a slimmed down tasting menu I would go back.

ME: I know I’ve been a naysayer, but I want to make clear that I love a big swing and I really appreciate that what Bazik is doing here is a big, big swing. Even if it’s not a hit! It’s a really interesting thing to come to town.

If I had gone as a celebrant and not an aide-de-critic I might have just let it wash over me and enjoy the parts I enjoyed. As someone going with Craig and also a giant sauce nerd I felt more obligated to tally hits and misses. I think it’s a place that is meant to reward close attention, and if you’re a food nerd and can spot Easter eggs you’ll be delighted, but it doesn’t demand it.

KA: There’s a place for this level of cooking and creativity in Philly. We need fancy occasion restaurants not funded by big companies. We need to celebrate our homegrown talent. This restaurant is super Philly. Everybody at Provenance — they’re all Philly old guards.

CL: This is a very Philly-style space — intimate and wrapped in historic bones of a townhouse off Headhouse Square. The bones of a great new destination are in place. But something like this takes practice and refinement, and it’s a big responsibility for me as a critic to tell my audience “Go! spend your $800 here!” I’m looking forward to revisiting in several months to see where they’re at.

KA: I was spending Aranita-Miller money and not Inquirer money, and our bill was $750. I left feeling I got a good deal. It was expensive, but we spent probably $400 more when we celebrated Ari’s birthday at Jont in DC.

CL: There are many people who do this kind of dining splurge regularly — at Ambra, Vetri or Royal Sushi. If they have the money to do that without thinking much about it, I think Provenance is an interesting newcomer to consider. I’d tell many of my readers, who maybe have this kind of money to go out once in a blue moon, that there are other places for a sure bet. This style of dining is also not for everyone — you have to be an adventurous eater flexible to all kinds of foods, not to mention have a spare three hours. So...

ME: If someone is asking me: Ok, I have funds and I want to go to a place that makes me feel very special and attended to, and I like French food, I would tell them to go.