It’s hard to stop from wondering about the mindset behind naming a restaurant Adsum, the saucily titled solo venture of chef Matthew Levin, who’s run Philadelphia kitchens from the venerable Lacroix to the see-and-be-seen Rouge. The bold Latin declaration that “I am here” hints to a declaration of independence for Levin, the Twitter-friendly, tattooed culinare whose molecular gastronomy and sous-vide-utilizing creations brought four bells to the imposing Rittenhouse Hotel. Levin’s latest digs, however, are located in the bohemian neighborhood of Queen Village, nestled alongside Passional, a high end fetishist sex boutique, and steps from Essene Natural Market.
Adsum brings the feel of its surroundings inside with dark wicker chairs, tables appointed with black countertops, and a gorgeous wooden bar framed by mirrored bookshelves bearing antique books. Sexy, not stuffy. The food follows the same line. We started with the Fried Oysters with Pickle Juice Remoulade ($12), a sublime mix of tart and crisp that evoked summers spent eating out of clam shacks on Massachusetts’s North Shore. The Tater Tots with Whiskey, Bacon, and Green Goddess dressing ($8) managed to be golden crunchy on the outside, but yielded to a soft mashed potato innard, capped by encapsulated pearls of whiskey and powdered bacon fat. They sat in a luscious Green Goddess sauce, a throwback to the 70s when it was all the rage, which I found myself scooping by the forkful until it disappeared. Kool-Aid Pickled Watermelon ($3) was a refreshing foil to its fried companions, and maintained its summery sweetness while belying its Kool-Aid title in tart and vinegary bites.
The Fried Chicken, Collards, Ham Hocks, and Hot Sauce ($18) entrée had been heralded by Rick Nichols of the Inquirer just days earlier as the best fried chicken in Philadelphia. As a lifelong devotee of fried chicken who’s been known to manipulate road trips around Popeye’s locations, ordering it wasn’t a question. The chicken arrived at the table, still steaming hot from a quick plunge in oil after being sous-vided in buttermilk for 24 hours. Perhaps it was the hype and anticipation, but I didn’t find the chicken to be as transcendent as Nichols had described. The breast meat was not dry, but not succulent, something I find hard to fault Adsum for since the quest to juicy white meat is one that eludes many a chicken devotee. The crust was perfectly crisp and studded with tiny bits of thyme, and the accompanying biscuit had a sweet, crunchy crown, and was moist throughout. The collards were toothsome and not at all shy with the spice, with Frank’s hot sauce’s vinegar tang shining through.
The Short Ribs, Bouchot Mussels, and Brown Butter Worcestershire ($22) was everything you could hope for in a short rib, yielding to just the slightest pressure of a fork. The accompanying disks of fingerling potato and mussels made this an elegant rendition of a traditionally cold-weather comfort food, but the brown butter worcestershire was surprisingly not heavy in the August heat.
Our meal was complemented by truly amazing cocktails crafted by a former bartended at APO. Try the refreshing Poppy Doble ($8), an easy-drinking concoction of “rum, maraschino, poppy seed, fresh lime, almond and fresh grapefruit” with crunchy suspended poppy seeds, or the Logical Consequence ($12), where dill and licorice-y absinthe hid the overwhelming juniper notes that I usually detest in gin.
Levin says that in selecting the menu for Adsum, he chose only dishes that he would want to eat himself after a long day of work. Today, I’m planning to return to do the same thing. Twice in one week? Definitely a sign Levin has made his mark.
