Alphabet Soup

Rating:

When his hands began to ache with unbearable pain, Jayson Grossberg knew he had a problem. He was already three years into a jazz percussion scholarship at George Washington University, but a battle with Kienbock's disease meant the music for him was over.

It wasn't long, though, before a new career rooted in creativity, and creative solutions, had only just begun.

Grossberg went from banging the skins alongside Tito Puente and limo rides with Max Roach to knocking on the kitchen doors of famous chefs. With an introduction from then-TreeTops chef Jim Coleman, Grossberg gained a valuable stint with Jean-Louis Palladin at the Watergate. The experience led to the Culinary Institute of America and jobs with Bobby Flay and the Union Square Cafe, followed by a busy catering career with his own company, Jayson Michaels.

Of course, cooking is an intensely hands-on job, too, and no small challenge for someone who, at 33, has had four hand surgeries. But the Cherry Hill East grad knows how to improvise, if anything. And if that meant honing his skills for several years in the more deliberately paced domain of catering, it hasn't stemmed his vision for a vibrant restaurant.

Some friends from Haddonfield haughtily guffawed when I mentioned that a place in nearby Audubon - a South Jersey Main Street at the humble beginnings of its resurgence - was offering $65 tasting meals.

But Alphabet Soup, the ambitious BYOB Grossberg and his wife, Alix, opened last summer there beside the train tracks, is exactly the kind of place any aspiring downtown could build its cosmopolitan hopes on. This bright 50-seat corner room has the casual elegance of a sophisticated bistro, with upturned bowling-pin glass pendant lamps and a whimsical splash of colorful leather chairs that each bear a scripted letter of the alphabet in both upper and lower case.

I was seated as Mr. Xx.

As the five-course tasting proceeded, however, my skeptical Haddonfield companions and I were suddenly muttering Ooo's and Aaa's.

A luminously golden acorn squash and rutabaga soup ringed a beautiful scallop, and the slices of succulent seared shellfish added a subtle shade of extra sweetness to the silky puree, which also sparked with the crunch of croutons and crisped pancetta.

The tomato risotto with seared shrimp was a slight misstep, the tomato sauce thinning the rich rice cream a bit too much, the shrimp stinging with too much salt. But this was one of the few dishes I didn't love.

A perfectly seared slice of cod came over cabbage braised to melting richness with duck fat and a smoky whiff of bacon. Tender medallions of pink Australian lamb, crackling with an herby crust, came with a rosemaried jus sparked by sun-dried blueberries, the toothy pop of barley, and the snap of pistachios.

My other guest, meanwhile, who ordered the slightly larger a la carte portions, was equally pleased. He began with a tan froth of mushroom soup milled from wild royal trumpets and a touch of tart green apple that concealed, near the bottom of the bowl, homemade ravioli stuffed with tender braised short-rib meat.

Grossberg's reverence for wild mushrooms was also highlighted with the spectacular strip steak, which came topped with a luxurious ragout of chive-roasted royal trumpet caps. At $38, it should be spectacular, and the 14-ounce cut of skillet-seared prime beef Grossberg sourced from Nonesuch Farms near New Hope was worth every penny. Even the crock of pureed potatoes on the side was addictive, a reminder that simple dishes done properly with the best ingredients can be memorable.

After sampling the rest of Grossberg's seasonal (and frequently changing) menu on a return visit, it's clear the first impressions weren't a fluke. A leg of house-cured duck confit was both crisp and tender over pickled beets and green beans in sweet fig vinaigrette. A delicate butter lettuce salad came with tart apples and toast rounds smeared with sublimely creamy chopped liver (medium-rare, with a touch of brown butter).

Grossberg also showed the ability to elevate a couple of commonly boring entrees to a higher plane. The salmon got a hot sear/slow roast technique that left it both cracker-crisp on the exterior and meltingly juicy inside. With a garnish of lightly creamed leeks, a crunchy cucumber-asparagus salad, and a creamy lime avocado puree, it was dynamic and satisfying, yet light. A simple tenderloin of veal, meanwhile, rose above ribbons of hand-cut herbed noodles with sweet peas, bits of French country ham, and earthy wild mushrooms.

For a new restaurant in a neighborhood that has never been on the fine-dining map, Alphabet Soup already has a lot going for it. Grossberg's wife, Alix, is a charming hostess. And lead server Gustavo Zegarra is a suave professional, warm and knowledgeable, but not intrusive. Then again, this dining room was never full during my visits - so its ability to handle a crowd is untested.

There were other details, though, that could definitely be improved. The kitchen needs a wider variety of plates than the deep, twisting square bowls that became redundant over the course of a tasting. The sulfurous tap water could use a better filter. And the music soundtrack needs a more careful culling (especially for a music guy). I'm all for Little Jimmy Scott and Bill Withers, but there's no excuse for so much Billy Joel.

Grossberg also desperately needs some help with the desserts, which drop off drastically from the impressive savory efforts. Mushy fruit crumbles. Crunchy chocolate pudding. Burnt cookies and milk.

Of course, it's nothing a little more clever improvisation can't fix.