Dream Cuisine

The name and locale do little for a South Jersey restaurant whose fare evokes the South of France.

June 01, 2008|By Craig LaBan, Inquirer Restaurant Critic

For a moment, the South of Jersey had become the South of France.

The twinkling glow of trees strung with lights framed the patio where we sat at Dream Cuisine. An illuminated church spire rose over the horizon. And as a gentle spring evening breeze rustled across our table, it carried the rippling sound of a fountain nearby. When the food arrived, the smell of seafood in garlic butter and tomato sauces piqued with Nicoise olives wafted up invitingly. I inhaled the aromas and poised my fork for a taste of Provence, when . . .

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"Happy birthday to you!!!"

The recorded music was being piped out of Toscana, the cheesy Italian restaurant a dozen yards from our table. And it blared across the pedestrian plaza of the Village Walk for what seemed like the fourth time that hour. The reverie was broken, yet again.

It's no wonder the much smaller Dream Cuisine has been slower to take hold than Vincent Fanari might have hoped. The low-key 40-seater he opened in September with his partner, Beth Malesich, is easily overlooked, with a Cherry Hill strip-mall storefront that has hosted a long line of failed restaurants. The name is also unfortunately forgettable - especially for a restaurant whose food actually does evoke a memorable place, Southern France.

But to watch the crowds steadily packing in for chain-level Italian food on the pergola-decked terrace of Toscana, an elaborately overdone faux-Tuscan villa from the owners of Italian Bistro, has been a challenge to Fanari's morale.

He even closed for lunch and took a side job recently to support the bistro, returning for daytime hours to Old City's Plough & the Stars, where he was the longtime executive chef.

It shouldn't be so difficult for honest French bistro fare to get noticed - especially with a four-course prix-fixe menu that, from $30 to $40, is a real bargain. But such is the lot of genuine food that dares to exist beside the powerful magnetic force of a mediocre suburban chain. Dream Cuisine's spare little room may not compete with the Italian stage set across the walk, but it is comfortable enough, with a cushy banquette, fabric-wrapped chairs, and walls the color of clay tiles and blue sky. The outdoor patio is a delight.

The fluorescent open kitchen could be less glaring, true, but you'll reliably see Fanari there, a flat-top toque capping his silver ponytail as he bobs solo beside the broiler, ladles and whisks.

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