On South Street, a break from the weekend routine
Dean Chen, WG'07
Issue date: 10/9/06 Section: Insider
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"All I ask of food is that it doesn't harm me."
Ah yes, the life of a poor grad student. Constrained by the multiple interlocks of time, budget and massive over consumption of Thursday night Papa John's and Yuengling, the average MBA damages his own digestive system as much as the average OPIM class does to his will to live. This truth is regrettable because, outside of the Chestnut/Walnut/40th/15th corridor, Philadelphia offers a wide variety of culinary destinations to ease the pain of displacement from our pre-Wharton existences. No, we're not talking about the Wawa on 10th and Arch. (That's a whole different story involving Walnut Walk, one missing flip-flop and a seriously malfunctioning internal compass).
Pumpkin, the destination for a recent Friday night, is somewhat removed from the typical Wharton haunts, both in distance and mood. Located in a lightly-developed stretch of South Street, the restaurant exudes warmth that reflects its simple surroundings. There are no 10-foot golden Buddhas to be found here (not that there's anything wrong with that). Instead, the decorations are uncomplicated, the tables overlaid with brown butcher paper and the soft lighting augmented by votive candles. The low ceilings and compact seating arrangement, with room for only 28 seats, make for an intimate, if slightly cramped setting. (Note: it's still much better than doing the clown-car meeting in a Huntsman study room with 5 learning teammates and their kimchee/curry/cheesesteak lunches). In short, Pumpkin is a well-crafted Philly BYO.
The food is classic American cuisine with a menu that changes nightly. There is a wide range of entrees (no vegetarian that I saw, but don't quote me), but seafood is Pumpkin's greatest strength. Chef Ian Moroney cut his teeth at Little Fish, a small Philly BYO specializing in seafood, and the influence shows in the menu. Your correspondent, having little personal expertise in culinary critique, foolishly chose the chicken (unremarkable), but the pan-fried salmon won rave reviews. The seared scallop appetizer was excellent and was nicely complemented by a seasonal garnish. Most remarkable was the exhaustive dessert menu, delivered in a two-minute soliloquy which, sadly, was heard only as blahblahblah crèmebrulee blahblahblah. The crème brulee was fine, although the custard was slightly warm after a too-slow caramelization of the top layer. All in all, the food was solidly above average.
Ah yes, the life of a poor grad student. Constrained by the multiple interlocks of time, budget and massive over consumption of Thursday night Papa John's and Yuengling, the average MBA damages his own digestive system as much as the average OPIM class does to his will to live. This truth is regrettable because, outside of the Chestnut/Walnut/40th/15th corridor, Philadelphia offers a wide variety of culinary destinations to ease the pain of displacement from our pre-Wharton existences. No, we're not talking about the Wawa on 10th and Arch. (That's a whole different story involving Walnut Walk, one missing flip-flop and a seriously malfunctioning internal compass).
Pumpkin, the destination for a recent Friday night, is somewhat removed from the typical Wharton haunts, both in distance and mood. Located in a lightly-developed stretch of South Street, the restaurant exudes warmth that reflects its simple surroundings. There are no 10-foot golden Buddhas to be found here (not that there's anything wrong with that). Instead, the decorations are uncomplicated, the tables overlaid with brown butcher paper and the soft lighting augmented by votive candles. The low ceilings and compact seating arrangement, with room for only 28 seats, make for an intimate, if slightly cramped setting. (Note: it's still much better than doing the clown-car meeting in a Huntsman study room with 5 learning teammates and their kimchee/curry/cheesesteak lunches). In short, Pumpkin is a well-crafted Philly BYO.
The food is classic American cuisine with a menu that changes nightly. There is a wide range of entrees (no vegetarian that I saw, but don't quote me), but seafood is Pumpkin's greatest strength. Chef Ian Moroney cut his teeth at Little Fish, a small Philly BYO specializing in seafood, and the influence shows in the menu. Your correspondent, having little personal expertise in culinary critique, foolishly chose the chicken (unremarkable), but the pan-fried salmon won rave reviews. The seared scallop appetizer was excellent and was nicely complemented by a seasonal garnish. Most remarkable was the exhaustive dessert menu, delivered in a two-minute soliloquy which, sadly, was heard only as blahblahblah crèmebrulee blahblahblah. The crème brulee was fine, although the custard was slightly warm after a too-slow caramelization of the top layer. All in all, the food was solidly above average.
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