We didn't actually complain officially. But Angiebrown, after someone had apparently overheard our private conversation in the tiny dining room, tromped out of the kitchen to confront the uneaten plate.
"I heard someone say the fish was salty," she said. "Mmm-hmmm . . . that's my seasoning."
The dish was kindly removed from the bill. But a variation on that seasoning, a common Latin supermarket spice, was also responsible for turning boneless chicken tenders the weird orange hue of lobster claws. It certainly brought a festive look to the pecan maple chicken, a family favorite since Johnson's 12th birthday meal. It's so treacly sweet - topped with a veritable liquid praline of pecans soaked in maple syrup tinged with grain mustard - that I can see why a kid might like it. Grown-ups without such a sweet tooth, not so much.
For a more traditional savory entree, stick with the pork chop, though I understand this dish has since been modified to go with red beans, rice and apples. Not a bad combination.
One thing that probably won't see any changes soon is the sweet potato souffle, deftly made by the chef's mother, Phyllis Brown.
I understand that Brown is also the homespun touch behind Soul's fluffy pound cake and densely sweet bread pudding. I know this thanks to Johnson's terse pronouncement at the table: "My grandmother made them, and if you said you didn't like them - then that would be bad."
No worries. They were the best, most soulful part of our meal.
Correction: In last Sunday's review of Butcher & Singer, I singled out the wrong waiter for praise. It was Michael Galluccio who did such a fine job serving our table.
Contact restaurant critic Craig LaBan at 215-854-2682 or claban@phillynews.com.
