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Friday, July 12, 2002

By Sarah Billingsley, Post-Gazette Staff Writer

The white tablecloths and steep prices are the only things about Soho that resemble fine dining.

	Brian Murphy, part owner of Soho in Market Square, shows off a pair of sea scallop and tuna appetizers. (Franka Bruns, Post-Gazette)

So it's a good thing the owners of Soho -- long-time friends Brian Murphy, Charles Kirby and Jeff and Joe Kotrozo -- have decided to end their white-linen experiment and adopt a more casual bar concept, starting this week.

The waiters must have been tipped off to these changes early, because on both our visits to Soho the sloppy service hinted at a restaurant in flux. It lacked timing: entrees were brought before appetizers were cleared. It lacked attention to detail: waters and ice teas were not refilled; once entrees were served, our table was abandoned.

The service lacked basic congeniality: two waiters stood near our table and argued about who got to leave early, since it was a slow night. During lunch service, one chain-smoking server sat at the bar and played video poker on the machine made incongruous by the gleaming flatware, polished hardwood floors and waiters' formal uniforms.

Fine dining -- first Jake's Above the Square, then Siena, then Ciro, then Bayona -- existed continuously before Soho in the same Market Square space; thus Soho began as an edgy stab at fine dining.

The blue neon of Soho's sign says funky and hip; the steep flight of stairs leading into the restaurant says exclusive. I expected the initial character of Soho to be that of a place defining its own trend. But, like the mismatch of white tablecloths and poker machine, expectation and reality are in disagreement: Soho doesn't quite know what it is yet.

During its flirtation with fine dining, Soho had a disappointingly raffish bar ambience. Now that they've simplified their raison d'etre, what was flaw might become character.

One giant pane in the bank of windows overlooking Market Square -- the feature that makes the space -- is boarded up. The lighting is moody and dim. The blaring Soho soundtrack is techno, with abrupt changes to Dave Matthews Band or Beastie Boys -- all disruptive elements if you're looking to have an elegant, romantic evening and enjoy your $28 filet.

Now these elements, rather than blighting a restaurant with delusions of grandeur, mark Soho as scrappy and still experimenting -- though not yet a success.

Unlike ambience, which is relative to a restaurant's concept, poor service is poor service, and mostly mediocre food is always a disappointment.

The essential problem with Soho's menu is that it tries for style -- rather, too many styles -- and lacks coherence. Cajun, Hawaiian, Italian, Japanese and California cuisine show up to this party. Soho's small kitchen, doing most of its business at lunch time, puts out a wild jumble of disparate sauces, cuts of meat and fancy garnishes.

This unruly menu is why radically oversalted Carolina Crab Bisque ($5) and Tomato Cream soup du jour ($4) can exist at the same meal as the lusciously tender Chicken Romano entree ($13), with its perfectly pan-seared, crisp crust and lovely, delicately lemony sauce.

An appetizer of sea scallop ($10), wrapped with peppered bacon in classic sea-salty/cured meat-salty preparation, was glorified by an uncharacteristic pairing with surprisingly tangy apricot compote and earthy wilted spinach.

But a similar attempt to harness sweet to savory, in the case of the Hawaiian Ahi Tuna appetizer ($10), bombed. The seared rare tuna was cold in the middle and accompanied by musty pickled ginger, runny, wallop-less wasabi and a plate drowned in a cloying, sticky sweet-and-sour sauce.

The red snapper wrapped with shredded potatoes ($19) looked like greasy hash browns and suffered from old age. Among its maladies, the usually mild snapper flesh was fishy and stinky, the fried potatoes tasted of stale oil and the basil lemon reduction broke before it got to our table, and was sour.

Though Soho is swept up in vain flights of fancy, the restaurant excels at meat and potatoes. The Soho Grill ($7) was a huge, excellent chicken sandwich, licked by flame, topped with chewy bacon, melted Cheddar and kicky barbecue sauce, and served with crunchy shoestring fries. Horseradish Crusted New Zealand rack of lamb ($28) was tenderly prepared and robustly flavored, but it has been taken off the menu.

Chef Erik Gitzen, formerly of the Valley Brook Country Club and the Igloo Club, is sowing his wild oats and testing boundaries in his Soho kitchen. Hopefully his frivolity will be reined in, but his sense of fun will be contagious throughout the restaurant.

Gitzen's tall, eye-catching presentations, with slightly bent fried pasta protruding upward like antennae from the plate, are startling and whimsical, graphic in the manner of Dr. Seuss.

I wished my lobster ravioli ($18), handmade in-house, artfully inked with streaks of black pasta and served on a rich stew of tomatoes, cream and crab meat, hadn't been crowned by a tippy haystack of frazzled leeks.

The Carolina Crab salad ($14) suffered from the same exuberant garnish problem. The salad -- a giant, tasty crab cake, spring greens and ripe mango spears -- was ravaged by a greasy plague of fried strips of wonton.

Like the Fifth and Forbes corridor, Soho has not yet settled on a final plan, but the owners are enthusiastic and experimental. In Market Square, where the view on a Saturday night is of circling cop cars and blowing garbage, Soho is a brave and progressive venture.

A step towards the casual is definitely in Soho's best interest. By paring down its ambitions and defining its character, Soho will hopefully have a chance to play a role in the revitalization of Downtown.

Soho
21 Market Square
Downtown
412-227-0990

Hours:Tuesdays through Fridays, 11:30 a.m. to 10 p.m.; Saturdays, 5 to 10 p.m.; bar open until 2 a.m. nightly.

The basics:Wide-ranging multi-ethnic menu including sandwiches, salads and wings; 20 bottles for $20 wine list, wines by the glass ($5 to $6.75), premium draft beers, full bar. All major credit cards accepted. Smoking and non-smoking sections. Not handicapped accessible.

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