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Friday, October 15, 1999 By Woodene Merriman, Post-Gazette Dining Critic
Sewickley Cafe's menu changes every week. It may change a little during the week, too, when something special becomes available.
But one item, the one that draws more people to the restaurant than any other, is always available. It's the tomato dill soup.
"Some customers want plumbing and a faucet to their house for our tomato dill soup," says co-owner Don Reinhardt Jr. It's his grandmother's recipe, made with fresh tomatoes, a little cream, and the rest is a secret.
Unfortunately, the soup is not on the printed menu, so we never ordered it. One server didn't tell us about it at all, and another mentioned it only when we asked if any soups were available. We had already ordered dinner, and she didn't tell us how popular it is, or we would have ordered it. A little enthusiasm goes a long way in increasing the size of a dinner check as well as the tip.
A second big draw at the Sewickley Cafe is the garden in the back, accented at night with lights on the large trees. With heaters and a big tent top and plastic sides, the garden will be usable most of the winter, Reinhardt says.
The Sewickley Cafe is a year old this month. Just because it's Sewickley, don't think it's a fancy place. Not at all. Eating at the wooden tables and chairs with brown paper covering the tablecloth, watching the crew at work in the open kitchen and staring at the deli counter with whole chocolate cakes and berry tortes, it's a lot like eating in a commercial kitchen. "New Yorkish but homey," Reinhardt prefers to describe it.
The room is pleasant, though, all cream and green with original paintings on the walls, fresh flowers on the tables. Everyone brings a bottle or two of wine, and overall, there is a relaxed attitude.
Reinhardt grew up in the restaurant business. His father had a restaurant in Louisville, Ky. He and his partner, Jon Olson, certified gemologist, opened the restaurant Oct. 28, 1998, in what used to be a soccer store.
Reinhardt cooks, but he calls Jeremy Brown, 23, of Sewickley, the chef. Brown is self-taught, and has "great innate ability," Reinhardt says. Perhaps some of the credit goes to the chef's mother, Christine, whom Reinhardt describes as an incredible cook.
Whoever does the cooking, he has a deft touch with fish and seafood. His Honor's grilled spearfish with chunky orange lime sauce was juicy and tender, bites broke off easily with the touch of a fork. My crab-stuffed jumbo prawns, two really big ones, were just as perfectly done, the generous portion of creamy crab spilling out of each shrimp.
We weren't so fortunate the night we ordered red meat. H.H.'s grilled 12-ounce rib-eye had a pile of mushrooms cooked in marsala on top. It was fine. But my marinated flank steak was dry and overcooked. What happened to the marinade? A little on top might have softened up those thin, too-chewy strips of beef.
The kitchen serves interesting vegetables and side dishes. Sometimes they work, sometimes they don't.
Baked artichokes were cut in quarters, and topped with seasoned breading, the Italian way. Nice. Smashed potatoes with bits of artichoke were not only different but delicious.
Roasted baby bell red peppers were wonderful. Baked asparagus was tough and stringy. Green beans and shallots were crisp and tender one night, overcooked and soft another night. Shiitake risotto was soft, and the mushrooms elusive. Couscous with sun-dried tomatoes, served in a timbale shape, was dry and inedible in the center. I'm glad they are experimenting with different vegetables and preparations, and I look forward to the day when they get them perfected.
I like Sewickley Cafe's salads. The Caesar is pretty much the routine Caesar salad served around Pittsburgh, with torn pieces of romaine, lots of creamy dressing, big croutons and no anchovies. The spinach salad is outstanding -- tender spinach leaves, bits of pineapple, mandarin orange, pine nuts, thinly sliced red onion, mushrooms and light, sweet celery seed dressing. (It's Olson's mother's recipe.)
The typical menu-for-a-week has six choices of pasta or rice dishes, including a vegetable primavera tossed in penne, with chicken or shrimp if you want, and roasted chicken ravioli with red roasted pepper and sun-dried tomato cream. All are served with a salad, and prices are $15.95 to $17.95.
Entrees, served with a salad and two side dishes, might include chicken saltimbocca, pine nut-crusted chicken, chicken Provencal, honey soy-glazed salmon and crab cakes (Chef Brown's mother's recipe), $15.95 to $18.95. A little something for everyone.
I like the casualness of the cafe. Servers wear matching T-shirts, are friendly and work fast. Customers (except for food critics who want to try everything) can eat light, if they choose. Every menu has a "lite fare" section of an appetizer, salads and sandwiches. A couple next to us on a busy Saturday night had hamburgers and left.
I can't imagine anyone skipping dessert, though. There they are, two shelves of them, in the cooler as you enter the restaurant -- thousands and thousands of calories in chocolate, whipped cream and pastry.
If you can't make up your mind, here's our advice: a wedge of Granny Apple pie with thick caramel topping is good (we didn't even mind that the apples were overcooked and mushy); you can't go wrong with the mixed berry charlotte, made with lady fingers and so many berries it must be good for you; and, for the chocoholics, chocolate thunder. That's two layers of dark chocolate cake, lots of thick chocolate butter cream icing, chocolate bits over it all, and tomorrow we diet.
Sewickely Cafe
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Hours: Monday-Thursday, 10:30 a.m.- 9 p.m.; Friday and Saturday, 10:30 a.m.- 10 p.m. Closed Sunday.