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In the nearly three decades it has been docked in Philadelphia, the Moshulu has been a star-crossed ship. A floating fern bar when it opened in 1975, it has since been plagued by fire, then by the tragic collapse of Pier 34, where it was moored in 2000, and by a reputation as a tourist trap.
The spring of 2003, however, shall be known as the season when lucky winds began to blow the Moshulu's way. The majestic, 99-year-old tall ship has finally come about.
Its new management, headed by Passerelle owner Marty Grims, did not simply redecorate and move the ship north to a sturdy berth on Penn's Landing. It has instead transformed the storied ship into the classy riverside dining venue the city has always deserved. The result is a rare harmony of first-class food and service with stunning views and ambience.
Precious few restaurants feel unmistakably Philadelphian. But as I stood on the deck of the 400-foot-long vessel under a full moon, I scanned a horizon that could be no other.
The electric party hats of Center City's skyline, illuminated in the moonlight, panned into the patriotic glow of the Ben Franklin Bridge, the aquarium dome in Camden, and the USS New Jersey, its battleship gray melding into the dusk as a majestic silhouette of twinkling lights.
As we arrived to eat on the starboard side of the elegant dining room, all done up in South Seas rattan and palms, etched Victorian glass partitions, orchids and rich mahogany, it was as if we'd been seated on cue: Fireworks exploded over Campbell's Field across the river and the food began to arrive.
Delicately grilled quail, perfumed with spicy-sweet soy marinade, came tiered between goat cheese-smeared croutons and applewood-smoked bacon. Beautiful seared scallops posed over a tumble of buttery chanterelle mushrooms. And a sublime grilled cheese sandwich oozing pungent Swiss raclette was decadently topped with foie gras and ringed with a puree of huckleberries and cassis and a scattering of spicy candied pecans.
If you've never heard of executive chef-partner Ralph Fernandez, it's about time you did. I doubt that Fernandez cooked much like this during his quiet three years at the mellow California Cafe in King of Prussia.
But the 43-year-old New Yorker, who spent most of his career cooking in fine hotels from Arizona and Minneapolis to the Pierre in Manhattan, is pulling out all the stops here with surprising aplomb.
The massive, 600-seat ship offers food and an appropriate setting for every sort of diner, be it the more casual fare in the cafe bar, a snack of sesame-dusted calamari on the deck, or the more ambitious menu in the dining room.
Virtually everything I ate was skillfully prepared with fine ingredients and a knack for modern combinations that evoked vivid, clear flavors.
Vegetarian chowder was sweet with fresh corn and soft chunks of chanterelle mushrooms. A rich seafood risotto appetizer was rife with the flavor of lobster.
Bouillabaisse brimmed at lunch with perfectly cooked salmon and seafood entwined with handmade saffron noodles in a golden broth. Marvelously tender charmoula-marinated lamb loin came with comforting bread pudding infused with goat cheese and herbs.
Fernandez shows occasional Southwestern flair, but uses it to add warmth and depth rather than raw heat. Chipotle cream blushes like an aurora around a lump crabcake set over black beans and corn. Earthy tortilla soup is refreshed with a dollop of guacamole. Even the Caesar salad gets a musky kick from grilled rounds of cuminy chorizo sausage.
If there is a strong theme here, however, it is South Pacific-Asian fusion. But it hardly feels gimmicky when standards such as sesame-crusted tuna are so well done. The pristine fish, speckled with a thin coat of black and white seeds, is paired with baby bok choy and amazing coconut-anise rice studded with toasted macadamias.
There were a couple of disappointments. The two-pound butter-roasted lobster was slightly overcooked. The pork chop was huge but bland and overshadowed by the jazz of its bourbon sauce.
But these were far from disasters. And the strong menu provided other interesting choices. Tender duck breast was set over sweet-potato gnocchi glazed with cassis duck jus. Superb sirloin steak with a beautifully seared crust was served with a clever cheesy potato croquette scented with truffle oil.
Fernandez's fish dishes highlight the menu. A thick fillet of wild striped bass tops a bed of gingered leeks napped with butter sauce bursting with the tart surprise of sliced ruby grapefruit. Moist halibut basks in a summery fresh gazpacho sauce, a red mirror that sheets the plate with zesty, liquefied tomato.
Grims and his partner, general manager Billy Bergan, have done a nice job of complimenting Fernandez's cuisine in the dining room. The service feels professional and attentive without being cloying or stuffy. The cellar offers a wide selection of good wines, from a delicious Clos Pegase chardonnay ($55) to the black cherry lushness of a Swanson sangiovese ($70). There also are 20 interesting wines by the glass.
When the live salsa band gets in the groove on the bandstand that rises over the deck, the evening seems complete. But not before diners sample the wares of pastry chef Duane Hendershot. I loved the homemade jasmine ice cream as well as the caramel-soaked stack of deep-fried pineapple.
But who could resist the banana split? A boat-shaped pastry crust was filled with caramel, walnuts and scoops of ice cream sporting shaved chocolate "masts" and billowing sheets of cinnamon-dusted pastry. Even in miniature, the new Moshulu promises sweet sailing ahead.
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