It was a celebrated tenure, no doubt, when the restaurant under his watch earned four bells. But even that privileged perch, turning out high-priced gastronomy for an elite slice of the dinerati, began to wear thin on the tattooed chef, now 36, who began to wish for a more down-to-earth place where "I'd like to go hang out and eat myself."
Judging from my rollicking meals at Adsum (Latin for "I am here"), that place will not lack for chef-y indulgences. There have been garlicky roasted marrowbones with onion marmalade and foie gras galore - creamy pads of which glisten atop the house-ground brisket cheeseburger as well as the bowls of Montreal-style "poutine" - french fries cooked in duck fat (of course), topped with squeaky cheese curds and streaked in two kinds of gravy. There are all sorts of molecular cooking gizmos in action: agents to powder bacon fat and turn Irish whiskey into jellied beads for the tater tots, foaming canisters and high-tech cornstarch to give the "KFC" fried sweetbreads (and chicken) a staying crisp.
There are also reasonable prices, with most entrées at $23 or less. And the kitchen stays open late, until 1 a.m., in the hopes that Philadelphians (other than off-duty cooks) will learn to eat out after 10 p.m.
Actually, I hope the locals start finding Levin's Queen Village bistro before 10 p.m., too, judging from the light crowds in the dining room for each of my three visits. Because the no-shows are missing out.
