"Fill every beaker up, my men, pour forth the cheering wine: There's life and strength in every drop -- thanksgiving to the vine!" As a solo diner while the feast of lovers relentlessly approaches, I find solace reading these words printed on the inside cover of the menu at Bliss. It's good advice, especially there, where the drink menu has a little something special for every diner. At the start of the evening, I delighted in the sweetness of the restaurant's signature cocktail, the "Blissine." This pretty blue concoction evoked feelings of, well, bliss, maybe because it was especially tasty, or maybe because it matched the tranquil decor so well.
When I tired of reading and re-reading the compelling drink menu, I entertained myself with the unique salt and pepper shakers. The smooth stones encasing everyone's favorite seasonings exemplified everything that's right about the restaurant's decorative concept. The wall to my right was covered by clean images of cool blue waters, while the rest of the main dining room was bedecked in a light-wood and frosted glass. Although I'm sure the owners didn't assemble their own furniture, there's something very Ikea about the atmosphere. The whole environment was so natural and pure that you could practically bathe in it. Apparently even a dirty girl like me can feel clean at Bliss. You, too, should have hope.
The restaurant's comfortable serenity cohered nicely with the menu. As I sipped my second cocktail, a delicious pear bellini, I perused the contemporary American menu. Head Chef Francesco Martorella -- of Brassiere Perrier fame -- designed a menu around Asian-inspired dishes, reminding us once again that Philly loves fusion. The appetizers range from $8 to $12, while the entrees go for anywhere between $18 and $34. I started my meal with the roasted Maine lobster, served with butternut squash puree and crispy dumplings in Thai sauce. As if lobster wasn't indulgent enough, I followed it with an entree of truffled, free-range chicken breast served over mashed potatoes. Mmmm, truffles. The portions were appropriately modest, which was a welcome change from the behemoth plates diners are often faced with.
My meal was divine, but it was not complete. I needed something sweet to finish me off, so I turned to the dessert menu. Between the apple tarine and the vanilla cr?me brulee, I was overwhelmed by my options when ---- oh, oh, oooh! -- I spotted the liquid center chocolate cake. Served warm with raspberries and vanilla ice cream, it was shamelessly orgasmic. And of course it was accompanied by an apr?s-dinner beverage: an espresso martini.
Cocktails aside, don't expect to leave Bliss after your dessert with the sexy single across the bar. The crowd at Bliss could be likened to the attendees of former Thursday-night hot spot, Red Sky, all grown up. The table to my left, on the other hand, was occupied by an elderly couple who slowly and precariously sipped their brandy. A party of six thirtysomethings sat at the table to my right. As soon as they left, they were replaced by another group of thirtysomethings. Not that they weren't attractive and fashionable in their own way, but the receding hairlines disqualified them as sexy singles in my book.
If, several cocktails deep, you decide that you can't bear to spend the night alone, there's always the possibility of seducing a member of the young and attractive waitstaff. And (bonus!) Bliss is sufficiently small and enough removed from the Penn scene to ensure that no one in your Tuesday chem lecture would be there to witness you spitting your game.
