At Mish Mish, ex-food journalist conjures Mediterranean dinner-party vibes to mixed results

I was reaching for another twisty strand of crisply fried Armenian string cheese at Mish Mish, cracking open its beer-batter crust for an epic cheese pull and dunk into the tangy tamarind dip, when a familiar question popped into my brain: “So, ... when are you going to open your restaurant?”

It’s something most food writers get asked at one point or another. And if you write about restaurants, it comes at you often.

The fact is that these are two completely separate pursuits. The daily skill sets involved in journalism (reporting and writing on deadline) and the hospitality business (cooking, service, design, and finance) are quite distinct. The transition from one world into the other is neither easy nor automatic.

Just ask Alex Tewfik, who knows better than most after leaving a five-year stint as food editor at Philadelphia Magazine to open Mish Mish. The lively, 32-seat bistro with Mediterranean-themed flavors is marked by a giant apricot dangling over its threshold at 11th and Tasker Streets, across from East Passyunk’s Singing Fountain.

If Tewfik’s goal was to create a “happy place” with “that dinner-party feel,” he has succeeded. A buzzy and magnetic energy radiates from this noisy little room, with no plans to mute the decibels (“most people love it,” he says). The cheerful soundtrack bops from Drake to Coltrane to Abba, and the brief menu of seasonal sharing plates flows to tables in seamless, well-managed shifts by personable servers like Alison Barrow.

Chef Kyle McCormick, a Laurel and ITV alum who also spent time at Le Bec-Fin, Ladder 15, and Will BYOB, has a deft touch with seafood. His baby octopus is irresistible, their tiny tentacles tender from a kombu-vinegar simmer, grilled with Calabrian chile paste and paired with a muhammara puree of roasted peppers, pomegranate, and walnuts. I also loved the light but punchy pairing of grilled mackerel and crunchy local cucumbers with golden raisins and grated horseradish. But at $18 for four slender slices, this was also one of the few dishes that did not feel like a solid value. Hitting that pricing sweet spot is a fine line in such a spare concept.

Entering the restaurant business is obviously risky. And you can even hear it from then-journalist Tewfik, whose 2019 essay “Philly is the worst city in which to open a restaurant” lamented the cost of liquor licenses and advised against opening one.

OK, so he didn’t exactly listen to his own advice, since he obviously just leapt into the industry he was also once a part of, waiting tables for several years at Noord, Il Pittore, Fitler Dining Room, Neuf, the Dutch, and Perla while his food-writing career took off. Those experiences stuck with him.

“I know a lot of people aren’t rooting for me, ... and every day I feel like I have impostor syndrome,” says Tewfik, noting that the pandemic caused him to reassess his goals in journalism. “I don’t know the future anymore, so why not do the thing I have wanted to do my whole life?”

I admire the bravery of Tewfik’s choice, and the risk he took to raise money from family and friends to renovate the former Noord — including $180,000 for the liquor license he says is essential for sustainability. That’s consistent with his published opinion, and financially it’s working, he says. Even with a small list of wines at $16 or less a glass and a handful of simple cocktails (try the Cardinale dry vermouth take on a Negroni), alcohol sales make up 37% of the restaurant’s revenue.

And Tewfik himself is a natural host for the high-energy festivities, with an ebullient hands-to-the-ceiling flourish as he leads guests to their table.

“Hey, what’s up!?” he says with a toothy impresario’s smile, wrapping familiar faces in grateful hugs and greeting strangers with equally effusive warmth (once they’ve flashed their vaccine cards, that is). “Oh my God!“ Tewfik confides thinking, “I can’t believe another person I don’t know who’s excited to be here just walked in!”

The honeymoon has clearly been fun for Tewfik and those eager to graze in the latest darling dining room near East Passyunk Avenue. It’s vaguely reminiscent of the early days of Audrey Claire 25 years ago in Rittenhouse, from the big personality at the door innovating a new style of small restaurant (back then, BYOBs) to the loose interpretation of Mediterranean flavors — down to a pomegranate chicken that anchors the menu’s safe space.

Tewfik comes to the Mediterranean focus by birthright. He’s the son of a Russian mom and an Egyptian father who frequently used an Arabic expression about blooming apricots (”mish mish”) that essentially means “when pigs fly.” It seemed apt to mark his realized dream of finally opening his own place.

After spending his restaurant career to date in the front of the house, though, Tewfik is adamant food is “not the most important thing in a restaurant. ... It’s all about the vibes. I want it to feel a certain way.”

His prioritization of ambiance shows. He may have the mood dialed in, down to the breezy manner wines by the glass are described with moody snippets rather than by standard producer details (”For beach chairs and balconies,” “Zings and zaps”) to the scented restroom candles soon to be sold under a Mish Mish label. But the restaurant’s menu lacks quite the same level of vision and identity.

The kitchen has shown some bursts of exciting ambition. A delicately pounded lobster tail special crisped into a schnitzel beside pickled ramps and slivered peas was a dreamy snapshot of spring sweetness that was memorable — but also too labor-intensive to keep producing. McCormick, who works with a small crew in this open kitchen, keeps the offerings simple and limited to a dozen choices.

The most distinctive item — that fried string cheese — is basically a clever riff on fried cheese curds. The half chicken for $30 was the single substantial plate for sharing but did not have the deep flavor impact a dry-brined, pomegranate-lacquered bird should have offered. (Ours was borderline undercooked.) Anchored by a garnish of grilled leeks with creamy labaneh, the pairing is fine. But when you realize more than half of the savory dishes on this menu come with a significant dose of cheese, butter, or labaneh, the stated Mediterranean theme, which should showcase at least as much olive oil as dairy, begins to feel reluctant and muddled.

For example, a dish of mussels in smoked olive oil with pickled cherry peppers was intriguing — but also served alongside grilled bread squiggled with copious amounts of sundried tomato butter that created an awkward, unnecessary clash of fats. A charred asparagus plate found richness in a creamy green wave of pistachio butter. Pickled sour cherries and ramps tangled beautifully with grilled maitakes over ... goat robiola. (OK, I love that cheese.) Grilled shrimp with Aleppo chile crisp came in a pool of orange oil atop more labaneh. Good thing my lactose-intolerant son remembered to bring Lacteeze. I wouldn’t have expected to need it.

The tart gooseberry and heirloom tomato salad scattered with crumbles of ricotta salata? That lightly aged cheese felt appropriate as a garnish, adding a salty zing to luscious summer produce in the same way briny shaved bottarga uplifted a special of tempura-fried zucchini blossoms. But this menu as a whole, which you’ll likely eat much of if you want a full meal, does not yet feel like it’s found its perfect balance. And the subtle art of refining such a limited a la carte selection into something more coherent than an assortment of pleasant nibbles may ultimately be the most challenging part of Tewfik’s learning curve as the guiding force behind Mish Mish.

Similarly, Mish Mish’s list of eight wines by the glass has drifted during the warm months to be almost entirely white, rosé, or sparkling, in part because underappreciated Portuguese vinho verdes and fizzy Catalonian wines suit the current climate at the right price. But also because that’s just what Tewfik likes to drink right now, and this is, after all, his restaurant.

So, when it comes time for dessert and a choice between a dull vanilla cake with berries or the “kinda sorta deconstructed cheese plate,” you might as well just go for the quirky yet inevitable cheese course — a bowl of brandied cherries buzzed-up with hazelnut praline layered beneath a deep snow of shaved L’Amuse Gouda.

If that’s a sly wink from the Dutch dairy gods of the old Noord lending a blessing to its successor and this passion project from one of its alums, at least it’s undeniably delicious.

The Inquirer is not currently giving bell ratings to restaurants due to the pandemic.

1046 Tasker St., 267-761-9750; mishmishphilly.com

Dinner served Thursday through Monday, 5 to 10 p.m. Closed Tuesday and Wednesday.

Plates, $9-$30.

Proof of vaccine required.

Wheelchair accessible through a side ramp, and bathrooms are accessible.