The Little Tuna

What makes a restaurant successful? Is it a well executed vision of food profiles and flavor? Is it friendly, passionate and knowledgeable staff? Or, is it in a name?

I had heard good things about The Little Tuna, located on "Restaurant Row" in Haddonfield, NJ, which is why I leaped at the chance to buy $50 worth of food for $25 on LivingSocial a few months back. However, when I got home that same day, in the weekly coupon saver, was a Little Tuna PAGE of coupons. It made me wonder if the restaurant was struggling, which in turn made me wonder about its quality.


Luckily, they (do) do tuna very well.


Let me preface this by saying that I have, thus far in my short relationship with fish, had a very volatile relationship with fish in any raw form. My first meal after becoming a pescatarian, about a year ago, I had sushi- nothing crazy, but some tuna rolls and some salmon ones. Taste-wise it was pretty uninteresting to me (I guess I'm all about the tempura-based sushi), but the real horror was that on the walk home and for the rest of the night, I started swelling up...everywhere. I had a severe allergic reaction- and to what exactly I'll never know- but that's enough to make anyone avoid raw fish.

Seared Tuna wins MVP

But, this tuna was seared, so I decided that I would try some peices off of their appetizer menu, instead of getting a tuna meal, and that it was safe enough.


The Little Tuna offers a series of tuna plates (they make it a point to tell you that it's "sushi-grade") that can be served with (a) wasabi and ginger, (b) jamacian jerk style, or (c), what we got, sesame encrusted. Truly delicious, and not overdone with sesame, the pieces came out a touch before warm with one sesame and one wasabi-based sauce for dipping. The tuna was a great pink, with no sliminess. In the past, I find that tuna in extended slices can get strange in the middle with the flesh tearing in strange, unappealing ways (especially at the moment where cooked meat meets with uncooked), but the transition on these pieces was perfect. I felt that I was actually just enjoying tuna in a very pure form with my own choice to enhance the flavor as much as I wanted. By far, my favorite part of the meal and something I would come back for.

Coconut Crusted Tilapia with Lime (?) Chutney

My main entree wasn't quite as delicious. I ordered the coconut crusted tilapia with a (supposed) lime chutney. I say supposed because the chutney was comprised of apples, and what I can only assume are a bevvy of spices, with (maybe) a squirt of lime over it. Very little lime was there to help cut through the coconut- which was thick and of the sweetened variety. This threw me off because between the reduced apples, the coconut, and the white fish (which was soft, and relatively tasty on their own) left the meal very sweet overall. Relatively delicious, but very strange. I had to salt it quite a bit to help the flavors balance out. The sides were decent- vegetables weren't too over-boiled, and my potato was yummy, as potatoes always are.

The Little Tuna served good food, however the restaurant was inconsistent to the point where it did not live up to my expectations. The Little Tuna did a nice job of creating a feeling of private dining even though most of the seating is an open table style. The tables were draped with immaculate white table clothes and came with its own bottle of imported, bottled water, which I'm sure was not complementary. We were seated immediately and our waiter hurried over. He was very eager, but that didn't make up for his lack of focus/forgetfulness since we ended up waiting for him most of the night. To put this in perspective we started out just getting water, he then said he would bring us bread, he came back and took our appetizer order without bread, reassured us he would bring us bread, came back minutes later with our appetizer with no bread, took our entree order, asked if there was anything else he could do for us, and I replied, "just the bread, please." Five minutes later we had bread. I know this sounds petty, but the point is I must hold The Little Tuna to a higher standard than Ponzio's Diner down the road.

Flounder Stuffed with Lump (?) Crabmeat

For my entree I ordered the Flounder Stuffed with Lump Crabmeat. As a rule, if I have the opportunity to eat more than one animal in an entree, I usually take the opportunity. The flounder was delicious. It was very flaky and tender. It was seasoned with an expected Old Bay-type crab seasoning making it feel very Maryland. Although it made sense it was boring. I expected that the lump crabmeat on the inside would tie everything together and bring the dish to the next level that it should be at. I was met with something I did not order. The lump crabmeat was much closer to a paste crabmeat. It was a bland texture that could have been fulfilled by the delicious garlic mashed potatoes (skin included) next to the fish. The end result tasted like delicious flounder stuffed with mushy crab-flounder. The second side on the plate was a pile of steamed, unseasoned vegetables. It was sadly uninspired and lacked an overall freshness that I look for in seafood. The natural texture and taste of crabmeat is what makes it special when paired with a flaky white fish. Don't pulverize the crab, please. Maybe I'll get a double order of seared tuna next time.

OM-NOM-NOM-NOM-NOM!

Caffe Aldo Lamberti

This is our second Silver Spoon restaurant to be featured and I've driven by it almost every day since May of this year. Caffe Aldo Lamberti is in Cherry Hill, NJ and sits on the corner of Rt. 70 and Grove St.

Let me preface this by saying that this restaurant from the outside looks so modern and (literally) shiny that I first mistook it years ago for a car dealership. In fact, because there is such an odd abundance of car dealerships in Cherry Hill, NJ, for a while afterwards out of the corner of my eye, I still thought that it could possibly be one. It’s located on a major highway that leads straight to Philadelphia, in a kind of hard-to-access area unless you’ve tried to get into its lot a few times.

This place has these two marquees that change weekly, sometimes daily, and always expressing some new item they’ve just received in the formula of adjective + fish + event = a reason to come try their food. For example, “Sweet Chilean Sea Bass freshly flown in, just in time for Prom”! Well, they probably didn’t market themselves quite that way for the prom crowd, but regardless, you get my drift.

I decided on a whim the Friday of my first week of work to celebrate and go. We had made a promise that we couldn’t review anymore diners until we reviewed a silver spoon, so this was perfect. We were somewhat out of place (not just because I had incorrectly told Chris that nice shorts were probably OK) but because we were younger than the average person in there by about 10-15 years- at least! It should be noted that we dined at 6:00 PM and almost everybody was at the bar that is outside, but features one side that is covered by the ceiling for those wanting to talk to their dates with less whooshing from cars flying down Route 70. I feel like our waiters noticed too, but among the three (3!) people that serviced us for those couple of hours we were definitely well taken care of- even if each side perceived the other to be…awkward.

For my main course I ordered off their Seasonal Menu (this was only after I turned down some of their specials which included a butterfish). I went with the Pan Seared Cape May Sea Scallops. It seemed more environmentally friendly to go with a more local selection than to eat a fish that was flown in from the Southeast Pacific (probably fresher, too). Our waiter complemented me on my selection and went to place our order. Chi and I then sat and waited for a while nibbling on the two types of bread that was brought to our table. The bread was served with home made (or at least home bottled) extra virgin olive oil. The olive oil certainly was different than anything I've ever bought from Wegmans. It had a fresh, cool quality to it, and for me, it set the tone for what the rest of the meal would be like; Caffe Aldo Lamberti tries to take the standard to the next level. The other bread that was at our table had a tomato sauce on it, which essentially made it a bunch of pizza-sticks (not to detract from the complexity of the sauce). They were tangy and warm, and like the olive oil, fresh. It was the first time I have been served complementary bread before a meal that was more than bread.

Our (non-pizza) bread was pretty average, but I agree that our olive oil (or, “oo” as I’ll refer to it) was not. This was the first time I was ever given the whole bottle. It had high notes of what I can only imagine (in my limited oo palate) was citrus. It also came with a small dish of big green olives and made me wonder: Do real Italians eat their bread this way? Was this an attempt to be authentic, or was it truly so?

Did you know that good oo should be marketed like good wine? For example, on the bottle, it shouldn’t just say “Product of Italy” (because it you read more closely there’s a good chance that it was still bottled in the US), but it should clearly state from what olive farm/plantation in whatever city it came from.

Chris and I decided to be adventurous and essentially upgrade our usual order of calamari to their grilled octopus. We were taken back by how it was presented.

Grilled Octopus

We soon discovered that it was partially pre-disassembled for ease of consumption, which was good since it was very…fleshy. I had never tasted octopus that tasted so much like meat before. It was delicious but slightly off-putting since I don’t eat meat. It was tender, with no taste of grimy ocean, or any of the general things that can turn people off. Well, that is unless you consider the fact that the suction cups on its legs still worked. (Chris tested them). Our only critique was that we wished it was crispier at the ends. Funny enough, this was the second time we had had grilled octopus within a week. The first was at Sapori, a delicious and rustic Italian restaurant in Collingswood where I had my “yay, I’m employed”-celebration dinner. I preferred Sapori’s, but I suspect Chris enjoyed this version more.

Pan Seared Sea Scallops

When the food came to the table I was still hungry and thank goodness thing since my plate consisted of five large scallops sitting on a dense bed of squid ink linguine with oil, garlic, and zesty red and yellow tomatoes. The scallops were the slightest bit chewy even though they remained very tender. Their buttery flavor was easily the highlight of the meal. Unfortunately the searing on the scallops was not uniform on every scallop. The ones that were more seared seemed to be tenderer almost as though the less seared scallops were cooked longer at a lower temperature. I can comfortably give the scallops a very good rating, but certainly not great. This was my first time having squid ink linguine and I wasn't lying when I said it was dense. It started to fill me up right away which was a shame since the meal was going in a wonderful direction. The squid ink gave the pasta an earthy, rich flavor (I'm sure the oil contributed to that as well), but kept its raw pasta flavor while enhancing the depth of the meal. With all the sweet, wholesome notes on the plate, the garlic and tomatoes gave the dish the zip it needed. The tomatoes were bright and summery and the garlic was not cooked to sweetness and left very pure.

Sweet Potato Gnocchi

I ordered the sweet potato gnocchi after much debate over what entre to choose. I had originally wanted the catch-of-the-day risotto, but upon hearing that it was a Dover sole, and not wanting to purchase something without a price, I picked the gnocchi. I love the stuff and almost always gravitate towards it when eating Italian. (Side note: for great, fresh, hand-made gnocchi in the area, head to Spasso’s in Old City, Philadelphia). It sounded like a genius and whimsical take on a normal gnocchi, and I looked forward to the contrast between a likely truffle/garlic sauce and the sweetness. While there was a contrast, and the sauce and mushrooms ended up being delicious as expected, the gnocchi itself was disappointing…but the kind of disappointing that just creeps up on you. My first bite was fine, although I immediately noticed there was a slick, oily coating that seemed to not release the potato inside. A further bite confirmed my suspicion that this gnocchi wasn’t going to be satisfyingly smushable in my mouth and was (somehow) neither fluffy nor dense. It occurred to me that for it being what it was, that it wasn’t especially sweet-potato-y.

Tiramisu

The dessert continued the theme of the restaurant. We opted for the tiramisu. We were surprised when the dish came out. The best way to describe it is an espresso soaked (soaked!) lady finger, surrounded in a mascarpone-whipped cream, dusted with espresso powder, topped with a halved strawberry, and finished off with a lady finger sticking out askew of it all. Oh, it also came in a squat martini/dessert glass, a whimsical approach on an Italian classic. The cream was the first aspect of the dessert we encountered. It was incredibly light, but at the same time it was runny (though I have a theory of why that might be). The show stopper of the dessert was what the cream was surrounding. The soaked ladyfinger in the middle was gushing with flavor. It was sweet and rich and light all at the same time. I believe the total liquid content of the dessert accounted for a runny whipped cream. The actual burst of flavor and liquid that came from the center of the tiramisu not only made the dessert delicious but also fun to eat. The ladyfinger pointing out the top was fun for dipping but in comparison to the rest, it might have well been only garnishing.

Additional notes: Don't be in a rush. There will be a wait between the courses but just enjoy the atmosphere while you watch the forty-somethings get drunk off Shiraz and Pinot Grigio during their happy hour. I took home my dish hoping that my general craving for heavy, starchy foods would leave me reheating it and giving it another chance the next day but when Chris’s mother was cleaning out the fridge a week later, I made no attempt to save it. Also, their wineries looked impressive (boasting 800 wines!!) and so I'll definitely have to come back if to do nothing else but take a tour of their selection.

Christopher

Authors' note: This entry marks our first in our 'Silver Spoon' entries- the restaurants we visit and review that are notably higher scale than our usual diner go-tos. Who says that NJ doesn't have fine dining? Who says Philadelphia is a terrible food city? 

Located in a quiet strip mall on Kressen Road in Chris's hometown of Cherry Hill, is the appropriately named Christopher restaurant. With the spotlight on their famous crab cakes, the restaurant focuses on three areas- seafood, steak (angus, certified) and pasta. The menu is no frou-frou with those as the only options. The decor, at least on the side where Chris and I were seated was also succinct as we pull up and see (or not see) that all of the curtains were let down and we could not even hope to glimpse inside. Intimidated, we walk in and are eventually greeted by a nice man who would end up being our host, our waiter, and then the floor busser.

I ordered their 'famous' crab cakes. All I can say is that I'm not sure why they're famous, because they weren't delicious and after two weeks I can barely remember any good quality about them. The crab pieces themselves were not large, and there wasn't a good crisp on the crusts. It was very soft, and eventually mushy and boring. My potato on the side frankly was more exciting- but then again what's not to love about twice-baked potato? It's difficult for me to find a vegetarian version of anything multiply-baked and I enjoyed the option. The portion was small, but not unexpectedly so.

Our busy waiter rushed over to our table after giving us a few minutes to look over the menu and we ordered our starter: fried calamari (this seems to be our bread and butter for appetizers, besides the complementary bread and butter). I need to begin with a compliment for our starter. It might have been the best cooked calamari I've been served. The outside of the rings were feather light, not very greasy, and even the rings on the bottom were crispy all the way around. The inside was, figuratively, like butter, and almost as rich. The one problem with the dish, however, was the seasoning. It was predominately salt. Actually, salt was the only thing I really tasted. Then again, that's the only downside the dish had. The marinara sauce that it came with was fresh and cut the saltiness back. When thinking about the plate as a whole instead of nit-picking, it was delightful.

For my main dish I had the "Filet Mignon With Fresh Grilled Shrimp" for $28.95. I need to lay down that the best steak that I get on a semi-regular basis is the beef from a restaurant called Famer Brown's in Waterloo, NE. I judge most of my steak off of beef from Nebraska, simply because that's what I grew up with and I honestly believe it's the best. That being said, the steak at Christopher was good. It was tender all the way through, lightly seasoned, and the chef did a knockout job of letting the quality and natural flavor of the steak speak for itself. It was a refreshing piece of meat that was well rested and retained its juices nicely. I asked for it to be cooked medium-rare and it came out more on the medium side, but I'll count that as a minor oversight since I really don't think it affected the overall tenderness of the filet. Now, the real star of the show was the shrimp. These three little guys were...perfect. If nothing else, they were the best cooked and juiciest shrimp I have ever had. They made the super market shrimp cocktail rings taste like pink rubber bands. I'm looking forward to getting more shrimp the next time I visit. The meal also came with a double baked potato. This potato had a shadow cast over it in comparison with the rest of my entreé. The only thing I really liked about it was the sour cream note really came through and added some needed zest to the rest of the plate. God, that was some good shrimp.

Riding the high of Chris's meal, we decided to order dessert. I decided that we shouldn't penalize the whole experience just because I didn't particularly enjoy my crab cakes. To be fair, I consider myself a relatively picky eater when it comes to crab just because I've been blessed to live (and eat) in the Chesapeake area of Maryland and then the Jersey Shore where blue crabs abound. Anyways, our waiter brought us out our dessert options via representations-on-a-tray instead of a menu, which I've seen at some upscale restaurants. However, instead of the deserts being perfect plastic versions of themselves or freshly cut slices, these pieces had seemed to be sitting there all day. The fluffiness of the cakes were gone; their icing starting to lose their brightness and melting off the edges. However, the power of our waiters descriptive words broke through the somewhat unapetizing desert mirage and we decided to order the red-velvet cake - an all-time favorite of mine. Like the rest of meal, there were distinct ups and downs.

The frosting? Delicious. Truly a thoughtful blend of a tangy cheese and sugary goodness. There wasn't too much that overtook the cake, and it left me wishing I could run back to the kitchen and lick some off the KitchenAid mixer. As far as the cake, I feel as if Christopher was trying to pull the wool over my eyes. I have a pretty firm understanding about how a red velvet is constructed traditionally, and the chemical reactions involved with cocoa ultimately give the desert its deep rich red color. This cake was a bright pink at most, and tasted like a pound (albeit moist) cake that had food coloring.

Overall, what a strange place with many ups and downs. Having read many mixed reviews on it, I wished we were able to, in the end, make up our minds about it. It's not as bad as some haters make it out to be - no, we didn't see any rats, and the service was good- but nothing about it changed my life. Except for that shrimp. Since Christopher, no shrimp has compared.