"It's like Allen Iverson playing basketball," explained a fellow food critic about a $200 bottle of wine. His descriptions of the power of fine wine and mind-tickling aromas that could take your senses on week-long voyages was by far the most exciting aspect of dining at Savannah. Unless anyone is there to entertain you with the breadth of his tasting knowledge, Savannah is just another restaurant drowning in Stephen Starr's trendy dust. And why, exactly, is the SOUL . FOOD . BAR necessary at the end of the restaurant's title? "This," he said of the red he sipped, "is like junior high." The rest of the evening at Savannah echoed this sentiment. An intimate setting with willowy drapes masking the windows behind the bar, Savannah feels like an upscale speakeasy. It has a cozy, candlelit dinner-for-two feel, a romantic getaway in the middle of vacant-looking warehouses. The location isn't great, but if you're looking for a change from Center City, Savannah provides a nice alternative. The staff is friendly and polite, but perhaps over trained, with a "pardon my reach" whether they are refilling your water or just looking in your direction. Put a little pressure on Savannah and its employees, and the strain begins to show, in discomforting and unappetizing ways. On a busy night, lipstick still lingers on forks and glasses, and paper wrapping finds its way into the collared greens. If you're gonna run with the big boys, "pardon my reach" and a little jazz music just ain't gonna cut it in an upscale market.
As food goes, Savannah's not bad, and the prices aren't outrageous. The Catfish Whiskers ($9) are a tender appetizer that melts in your mouth, leaving behind a warm smile of spicy goodness. The Savannah Salad ($8) mixes candied pecans and massive cucumber slices in with leafy greens and is topped with an "upscale" Hemo sauce -- yummy Honey Mustard Poppy Dressing. The Chicken and Dumpling ($15) entr‚e was tongue-scorching hot, served in a clay pot that refused to cool down. Maybe the heat was intended to hide the fact that the meal lacked in flavor. Grandma's Meatloaf ($14) however, managed to get the comfort food thing down right. Blanketed in a rich homemade gravy, the belly-filling portion of meatloaf had a full-bodied flavor and was complimented nicely by a creamy side of mashed potatoes. But the Banana Pecan Bread Pudding was by far the winner of the night. Warm and soft at its core, it was delightful. Savannah tries really hard and is an enjoyable meal out. Throw those overworked servers a little bone, smile politely as you explain that your flatware has seen more MAC than Palmolive, and skip right to dessert.
