MidAtlantic

One of my great disappointments over the last decade has been the failure of Philadelphia chefs to draw meaningful inspiration from the living tradition of country cooking that surrounds us. Yes, the "local food" movement has happily flourished, but mainly with ingredients, our farm markets blossoming with everything from free-range poultry to pawpaws and heirloom beets. But when it comes to actually tapping the rustic foodways of say, Lancaster County, our city cooks inevitably lose interest once they've played with a bit of Cope's corn and a pretzel crust or two.

Of course, getting a taste of the real item takes determination, especially with a community as closed to outsiders as the Pennsylvania Dutch. A venture west on Route 30 mostly confronts the day-tripper with a parade of bus-friendly smorgasbords purveying touristic gorgings barely more worthy than an Old Country Buffet.

If you manage to land a lucky seat at the table of a genuine Amish or Mennonite farmer, you can taste the simple-yet-transcendent wonders of mashed potatoes dug from the backyard an hour before dinner, of hand-rolled noodles shined with a speckled gloss of browned butter made from hand-churned cream, of the deep sweetness and surprising crumble of a shoofly pie enriched with lard.

To most of the public, though, that world is unknown. And the general lack of enthusiasm to explore further has likely come down to a simple fact: scrapple just isn't sexy. Or at least it hasn't been until recently, when suddenly everything from foie gras (Silk City Diner) to oysters (the Oyster House) can be found in a slice of well-crisped mush.

That Daniel Stern's MidAtlantic restaurant has so much to say on the topic of our neglected regionality - from the scrapple-as-canvas (now with crab and venison) to the heirloom mustard tray, house-cured sausages, and, yes, house-churned butter, too (this milkmaid is actually a Hobart mixer) - is a welcome dose of overdue inspiration.

And there are many moments where the possibilities shine in this lively, open room where colorful, barnlike planks and stamped-tin doors contrast with the contemporary glass and concrete bones of the newly built space. Set into University City's Science Center complex, it captures the spirit of a smart rustic-modern update. If there was anywhere I'd be at home eating house-ground burgers on savory "doughnut rolls" topped with fresh summer sausage, or apple fritters on my pork chops, it would be here.