TWISTED FRENCHMAN
LIVELY TwIsTEd FrEnChMan sErVEs oLd-worLd wInE and ModErnIsT-InsPIrEd dIshEs
There’s little that’s twisted about the Twisted Frenchman, although it is spirited. The restaurant that Andrew Garbarino, 27, opened in May is the result of a partnership with the silent investor behind Notion, David Racicot’s place that had been in this location since 2013 until it closed in the winter. Mr. Racicot is now the chef de cuisine at Tako Downtown.
It’s the same narrow space, yet the dining room is infused with jeweled tones. Pale blue walls wear a photograph triptych showing off black, magenta and blue feathers that have blown across a landscape. Colors reinforce a richness that appears elsewhere, such as the ornate, peacock-inspired side plates.
There are tablecloths on the four-tops and booths, yet the Twisted Frenchman does not feel like a stiff, white tablecloth kind of place. Whether it’s half or entirely full — and I’ve been here for both — the restaurant is warm and lively.
What I find interesting about the Twisted Frenchman is that it’s a debut from a young guy whose name had not made the rounds as an up-and-coming chef. And he is doing a fine job in the early days of running a good neighborhood restaurant in a prime location that people are talking about.
Lately, I’ve gotten a handful of phone calls and emails from Pittsburghers who have recommended the place. It’s not budding, earnest foodies I’m hearing from, but frequent travelers, back from a conference in Provence or a business trip to Hong Kong, who appreciate classic fine dining. They are rooting for Mr. Garbarino.
Recommendations don’t necessarily influence my review, but I do think it’s noteworthy that the Twisted Frenchman resonates for these diners exploring the new East Liberty: a fun, tailored spot with an ambitious chef who is confident, yet eager to please.
Mr. Garbarino had formerly worked in the kitchen at Spoon, around the corner, for more than three years. He had cooked at Il Pizzaiolo in Mt. Lebanon during the opening of the Market Square location, and is a 2007 graduate of the Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park, N.Y.
There are many things about the place that remind me of my visit to the school’s showcase restaurant, the Bocuse, even though Mr. Garbarino graduated before it opened.
Like the Bocuse, service is good; servers clear plates, replace silverware and crumb tables as if they have done it every day of their lives. Blissfully, they do not overshare — an epidemic in Pittsburgh restaurants lately. When it comes to checking in on diners, they’re going for sincerity over a script.
In the kitchen, Mr. Garbarino is not reinventing the wheel. Although a few dishes are French-inspired, the name is in reference to technique, a combination of classic French training and modernism.
“French food is the love of my life,” he told me when he first opened, “but I’m a modernist at heart,” he said of his cooking style.
A first-course foie gras ($16) is as showy as a dessert, with foie gras set atop brioche with a layer of onion marmalade, a dollop of nut butter and thickened balsamic drizzled around the plate. The vinegar is pulled with a toothpick or tweezers toward the edge, like a rhythmic design of a many-pointed star. It’s the chef’s take on a PB& J.
“Don’t eat the rocks,” the server warns with the shellfish and grits plate ($16). Like a rocky New England landscape, they hold a scallop shell, with seared scallop and tempura lobster tail nestled within. A glass of grits with a shitake mushroom ragout stands beside it. The dish is an aspirational presentation, yet the ingredients make it a stand-out.
The celery and white bean soup ($14) is an elegant presentation, with finely diced root vegetables arranged in the bottom of the bowl and pea shoots lacing the rim. The server pours a thick, pureed soup tableside. It’s delicious, although a halved soft shell crab served in the bowl is a challenge to eat.
Mr. Garbarino arranges beets ($12) on a long thin plate like words in a sentence. Pickled, roasted, fried and powdered beets alternate with compressed cucumber and whipped goat cheese. Honey sweetens the dish in a vinaigrette.
Though I was more pleased by the main dishes, the selection of entrees are conservative crowd-pleasers.
Try the vegetarian ($28) because no two diners get the same dish. And as Mr. Garbarino’s style dictates, he emphasizes unique presentation. In one visit, pea risotto serves as the base for chanterelles, micro greens and cipollini onions, like pearls. On another visit when two diners ordered the vegetarian choice, the first was served a spring-inspired gnocchi with asparagus and peas, garnished with shaved truffles, while another scored a less impressive risotto with ratatouille.
The lamb-wrapped lamb chop ($36) is a rustic presentation on the bone, paired with sous vide technique in cooking lamb sausage that jackets the chop. “Perfectly cooked and seasoned,” said my friend, who also said concentrated carrots were “insanely delicious,” although she was wishing for a touch more brie in the brie-stuffed onion; who wouldn’t?
Another cut, the Piedmontese strip ($34), arrives as ordered, served with blue potato shoestrings and Brussels sprouts, that serve as a reminder of winter.
You know what’s also nice about this place? You can come here for the dessert and a glass from the French-only wine list.
The dessert is where I’m again reminded of the student-run restaurant, with at least one offering that’s like a magic show. When I went, servers churned ice cream with a hand-crank mixer, tableside.
Mr. Garbarino has his own take here. The frozen chocolate ($11) is a showstopper because of the chef’s joy in creating it, as he pours a pitcher full of liquid nitrogen onto the bowl of chocolate, so that it starts to percolate, then it hardens. It looks like the Macbeth opening scene with the witches, with clouds emanating from the chocolate as well as the pitcher. The process transforms the chocolate into a frozen delight, a frosty shell with a cold, creamy interior. It’s also served with a chocolate brownie, dulce del leche, balsamic, strawberry puree and a delightful cara cara sorbet.
And about that wine: Start with a glass of a high-acid Chenin blanc, move to the Tibouren with notes of currants and plum, then if you’re inclined, an after-dinner Sauternes, and call it a night. With fine selections like these, you can almost forget what a hassle it will be to find them in a state store on your own.