Deprecated: mb_convert_encoding(): Handling HTML entities via mbstring is deprecated; use htmlspecialchars, htmlentities, or mb_encode_numericentity/mb_decode_numericentity instead in /var/www/html/wp-content/plugins/super-cool-ad-inserter/inc/scaip-shortcode-inserter.php on line 37
Location: 212 Sixth St., Downtown. 412-434-1422
Hours: Lunch Mon.-Fri. 11 a.m.-2 p.m.; dinner Mon.-Sat. 5 p.m.-1 a.m.
Prices: Appetizers and salads $7-12; entrees $18-30
Fare: French fusion
Atmosphere: Tastefully trendy
Liquor: Full bar
Smoking: None permitted
We’ll let you in on a little secret: We’re not really qualified to do this job.
Now, that doesn’t mean that we don’t know what we’re eating. It just means that there are no formal qualifications to being a food reviewer — no license to employ adjectives in the service of gastronomical depiction, nor post-graduate Studies in Salad Dressing.
That used to be the case for chefs, as well. Most chefs, whether short order or executive, developed their craft through old-fashioned apprenticeship, learning by doing. Over the last few decades, with the proliferation of high quality restaurants, cooking schools like our own Pennsylvania Culinary Institute have supplied the more typical credentials of budding chefs.
Ryan Racicot, the young executive chef at Palate, bucks that trend. Having first learned to cook from his grandmothers as a teen-ager, Racicot went on to work in kitchens from Pennsylvania to Nevada before returning to Pittsburgh. He was executive chef at Trilogy (owned by CP‘s parent company) when he caught the attention of Palate proprietor John Valentine, and the two have become partners in one of Downtown’s most distinctive and desirable dining destinations.
The restaurant was bustling, even on a weeknight; we recommend reservations for one of the candlelit, white-clothed tables. Not having taken our own advice, we enjoyed our meal in the comfortable lounge on a mezzanine overlooking the main dining floor. The food is French heavily inflected with Italian, Mediterranean and American. The menu’s vocabulary alone made us wonder whether CCAC has a course for us after all. What, we wondered, is a galette? (Answer: a cake.) And gnudi? (Sort of like gnocchi, but without potatoes.) And although the individual words made sense, we stretched our imaginations to comprehend the ingredient listed as “candied walnut dust.”
We ordered the sheep’s milk ricotta gnudi as an appetizer. Smooth, round orbs weren’t smooth within — the slightly crumbly ricotta gave them more of the character of cheeseballs than of gnocchi. And while the menu identified this dish by the gnudi, the two jumbo shrimp at the center made a big impression. Tying things together, a brothy cherry tomato sauce added rich flavor without being heavy or overpowering. Small strips of meaty-crispy pancetta and juicy halves of cherry tomato completed this varied, yet cohesive, success.
Racicot’s signature dish, tuna tartare, was a perfectly formed puck of sweet yellowfin tuna mixed with juicy cucumber and topped with a dollop of chickpea puree. Jason thought the earthy flavor of the chickpeas overwhelmed the oceanic tang of the fish, but Angelique liked the textural contrast of grainy chickpeas and silken tuna. Middle Eastern notes extended to the finishing of the dish; instead of the predictable soy vinaigrette, Palate’s was based on harissa, a Tunisian red chili sauce. On the plate next to, but not on, the tuna, a comma of tangy, creamy yogurt made for an optional dressing.
With seafood duly represented by our starters, we turned to meat for entrees. Jason chose “naturally raised” veal strip loin, wrapped in Wisconsin bacon. The rosy medallions of meat were succulent, if a bit scant, and the bacon, like the pancetta above, was wonderfully both meaty and crispy. Polenta cake was superb, still soft and moist within, but just crisped on the outside. Unfortunately, the baby bok choy tasted a bit harsh alongside these other, milder flavors, and the sauce Madeira was jus-thin and hardly noticeable.
Angelique chose short rib ragout over wide, flat paparadelle noodles made just up Penn Avenue in the Strip. The meat was falling-apart tender; delicate strands of it clung to the pasta, and the sauce was a deceptively simple one of jus and gremolata, an Italian sauce of parsely, garlic and grated lemon peel which Racicot borrowed from its traditional partner of osso bucco and jazzed up with horseradish. The result was a subtle symphony of bright, hearty, piquant and herbal flavors which suffused every bite.
For dessert, we were treated to one of the best cheesecakes we’ve ever had (and we’ve had quite a few). Ethereally creamy, authentically cheesy and dense without being heavy, it was served with a mint sauce whose lively notes contrasted with the mild cream. Instead of a berry, it was topped with a wedge of date.
We’ve never been hung up on credentials, and at Palate, Chef Racicot shows just what talent and experience can do.
JR:
AB: 
This article appears in Jul 12-18, 2007.

I agree the food was great and the menu should have had a glossary of terms. The service was not so great. The server knew little about the wine list and the corner table on the mezzinine – the one just behind the wall to the left of the stairs, could be kindly labelled as claustrophobic and should not be the table for a first time diner at that restaurant especially when there were so many others to choose from. At the very least that table should have the MOST interesting art to impart a modicum of ambience. I’m sure they will do well- the proximity to the theatre district is priceless.
My friends and I are always excited to hear about new restaurants in Pittsburgh. We heard mixed reviews about Palete and decided to try it for ourselves. Unfortunately, we were sadly disappointed. The ambiance is fine. We asked for a bottle of wine and the waitress brought us a substitute claiming it was a zinfandel when in fact it was a meritage. None of the waitstaff seems to have any knowledge of wine. After our orders were taken, we sat for quite some time, about half an hour, before receiving any bread. Our first courses were quite good. Next, we had almost a 45 minute wait before our entrees arrived. Many of the dishes were just too salty to be enjoyed (fish, pasta with lamb ragout) It was very disheartening after the long wait. I almost had to wonder if the chef had tried any of his dishes because he would have realized instantly that any flavor had been abolished by the massive quantity of salt added to the food. The staff semed indifferent even after we told them about the saltiness. When the bill arrived, we found they added the cost of a $70.00 bottle of wine that we had discussed butnot ordered. I suspect they’re still working out the kinks, but I think for the prices that Palette charges, the service and food is just sub par and not worth the expense.
We went to Palate because we were going to a show. We arrived half an hour early and the host graciously showed us to the bar. He was friendly and funny. We sat at the bar and were accosted by a horrendous odor. It smelled like wet dogs. Out of curiosity, we walked around to find where it was coming from. After an (admittedly unscientific) investigation, we discovered the rug in the bar smelled like it had never been steam cleaned or vacuumed. The bar, I should point out, is on a separate floor from the restaurant and was completely empty. It may be they never use it unless patrons come in early as we did.
Now to the service. They sat us at exactly our reservation time. We sat for 20 minutes before anyone came to the table. I wouldn’t have been off put by this, except there weren’t that many customers. The young lady gave us two menus while another one filled our water. I asked for a diet coke, my girlfriend asked for wine (I forget the type). 15 minutes later the first lady finally brought us some bread along with our wine and soda. We were ready to order; she wasn’t ready to take our order. She walked away while we were talking to her.
About 5 minutes later she returned with our bill. This was extremely punctual, however we hadn’t even ordered yet. We corrected her. She took the bill to another table. At this point a THIRD young lady arrived with our dessert: creme brulee and a cake of some sort. It looked delicious, but we still hadn’t ordered our entrée let alone dessert. We corrected her and she brought the dessert to another table. Nope, wasn’t theirs either. She spun around until the proper table waved her over. At this point my soda and my girlfriend’s wine have been empty for 5 minutes. We made a joke to see how long it would take for the staff to notice.
Finally a man came to the table and took our order. I asked him very flatly if I order a “blood rare” filet, will I get a blood rare filet? I specified that I like to have my steak dodging the fork. He said that he would personally walk to the chef and give him the instruction. My girlfriend ordered the lamb. Coke and wine still empty.
While we were waiting, GIRL #3 arrived withour dessert arrived again. It was the creme brule and cake again. We told her we still hadn’t ordered dessert and were waiting on our entree. She picked the dessert back up and disappeared downstairs with it. Coke and wine still empty.
Our salads and appetizers arrived. They were delicious. We ate them with parched throats because — Coke and wine still empty. At this point, we moved our glasses to the edge of the table. The male server noticed the movement and immediately asked my girlfriend if she needed more wine. She said yes. He disappeared. Coke still empty.
He returned with her wine. I turned my glass upside down (had already eaten the ice) to give him a better hint. He walked away. Coke still empty. Now I was really thirsty. I balanced the glass on my head. When the first girl returned with our entrees, she noticed and refilled my diet coke.
On to the food. My steak was brown all the way through. My girlfriend graciously offered to trade entrees since she eats her steak medium well. In a normal restaurant, I would have called the waiter over and asked for another steak. But this place was amusing me now. Since the waiter made a point to talk directly to the chef, I wanted to see if he would check up on me. So I switched entrees with my girlfriend. The lamb was great. My girlfriend liked the steak. The waiter did check up on us. He neither asked if the steak was to my liking nor noticed that my girlfriend was now eating it. Girl #3 arrived with crème brulee and cake for the table next to us who were just seated. She disappeared downstairs again after they corrected her.
We finished eating and our check arrived. They charged us for a bottle of wine instead of two glasses. Everything else on the check was correct.
I paid the tab. My girlfriend was now convinced that we were on a hidden camera tv show and didnt want us to overreact to anything. So when GIRL#3 inevitably showed up with a crème brulee and a cake, we ate both of them and thanked her. To the credit of Palate we were never charged for the dessert, and we got to attend two shows that night. The first was a comedy at Palate. The second was a tragedy at Heinz Hall. Or did I get those reversed ?
The real appeal of Palate was the gay bar upstairs where you could order fruity drinks with John until six in the morning.
Forget the food! It’s all about the theater and the action upstairs, sweetheart!