Southwestern - & tequila - rule at Kokopelli

WHAT'S MISSING from the Philadelphia flavor profile but also has a familiar, burger-and-fries feel?

That's the question Adam Solomon pondered when he was looking to develop a restaurant concept. His answer? American food with an ethnic twist in a spot named after an ancient Native American deity.

December saw the opening of Kokopelli Restaurant and Tequila Bar on Chestnut Street near Rittenhouse Square.

As executive chef, Solomon and his partners, Kenny Yeretzian and Rich Brenner, brought in Gina Rodriguez, who combines her Southwestern heritage with classic French cooking.

The Southwestern Corn Bisque ($6) had a predominant corn flavor profile that I found out of balance, but other members of my party enjoyed. I liked the grilled prawn garnishing the bottom of the bowl and the hint of smoked paprika oil.

We enjoyed the green chili stewed chicken with corn bread muffin ($9). It's a Rodriguez family recipe that elevates a simple stewed chicken with a sauce punctuated by green chili - an addictive taste. The dish was garnished with a mini corn-bread muffin, which looked great in the mini-tureen.

But this leads me to my complaint about most small plates that are billed as "shareable."

Design aside, there's a practical issue here. When most dining parties come in twos or fours, why are most small plates impossible to divvy up?

In yet another example, the server hyped the Ahi Tuna Crudo ($10) accompanied by a roasted garlic avocado crema that takes two days to make. We were intrigued, so we ordered it.

The dish quickly devolved into an episode of "CSI." Two days to make? It nearly took two days to find. Was that little dot the crema? Perhaps the little drizzle over there?

We hailed the server, who identified the three little dots as the sauce of interest. How do you split a dot and get any sense of the flavor?

Surprisingly, one of our favorites was the Calabacitas ($6) side dish, a melange of summer squash, zucchini, corn and tomatoes simmered together to make a stew. Although this isn't prime time for these vegetables, the stew had a lot of flavor enhanced by a smattering of the Mexican cow's milk cheese, cotija.

Sadly, the Chorizo Mac n Cheese side ($6) we ordered for the table wasn't as well-crafted. The pasta was overcooked and the chorizo lacked spicy sharpness. The overall effect was more like beefaroni.

I was happy to see tamales on the menu because well-made tamales, like good potstickers or pierogies, can be an antidote to the foam and gelee madness taking over chefs these days. Give me good, authentic regional dishes rooted in tradition.

I understood and accepted Rodriguez's technique of making the tamale base and putting the sauce on top rather than blending it with the masa dough and steaming the flavors together. It's a concession to the internal workings of a commercial kitchen.

But I missed the texture and flavor of hand-rendered lard binding the dough and turning it into a supreme pillow of flavor. (I know, the oil version is healthier.)

And $10 a plate is a little steep for what is generally considered to be cheap eats in the Southwest.

Kokopelli touts its "zesty flavors," so it was a disappointment when the zestiest flavors of the evening came from the cocktails. The Sangrita ($10.50) was a hit, with its blending of Herradura Reposado and the traditional accompaniment made from tomato juice, jalapenos and hot sauce.

Solomon notes that the spicier chile overtones have been dialed back a bit in dishes for a wider audience. To overcome that, Rodriguez developed a house-made hot sauce for the tables. I'd rather see more faith in Philadelphia palates.

But there were hints of what Rodriguez could do if unleashed from the small plate. Take, for example, perfectly seared diver scallops with a chorizo mushroom potato ragout ($14), accented with a syrupy, peppery, classic reduction. Or the Hangar Steak ($17) seasoned with her blend of spices and served with a complex pasilla pepper sauce.

The desserts weren't especially memorable. Of the three offerings, the Flan ($7) had the most character.

As others have noted, the beer list is paltry. The wine list, however, shows some thought and is very well priced.

There's also a tequila program with flights and suggested food pairings.

The Blood Orange Martini ($13) was a hit, although it would be more aptly described as a margarita. The black smoked salt rim was genius, so it's doubly bad the server forgot it until I asked for it.

Except for the salt omission, service started out fine, if a little too enthusiastic over our avocado crema dots, but as the room filled with guests there were some major missteps.

One plate was forgotten until we reminded the waiter we had a dish coming. Also, when we decided to add an order of bison sliders ($8), it got lost in the kitchen. In all fairness, it was deducted from the bill without our asking, but it was one of the last impressions of the evening.

Speaking of impressions, the dining room is virtually unchanged from its previous life as Pearl. I wouldn't want a roomful of Southwestern tourist kitsch, but I do want to feel some essence of Southwestern ambience. At least invest in some ochre-hued paint.

So I keep going back to Kokopelli's namesake, who can be the god of fertility and agriculture, a serious undertaking. Or he can be the playful prankster and music-maker. Now the question is, can Kokopelli do both well?

Lari Robling has been expressing her opinion about food ever since her first bite (according to her mother). She produces multimedia pieces for WHYY and is the author of "Endangered Recipes."