A Matter of Taste: Flinchy's, Camp Hill

by Elizabeth Wingate 

Flinchy's staff presents our group-dining meal

A group of us descended upon Flinchy's in Camp Hill, located just at the bend in the road on Hummel Avenue. I've often heard the place mentioned in local print, and have seen the dapper and characteristically chipper Dawson Flinchbaugh at area events in his unchallenged role as "Chief Chili," but really didn't know what to expect of a restaurant whose logo is a globe. Did that mean Chinese/Japanese/Italian plus burgers? I hoped not.

     We were/are not a quiet or unassuming bunch, nor do our palates all tend to merge neatly at the table; rather, several of us dislike shellfish, a couple of us are generally jaded by food, while one of us despises mushrooms and will happily down a glass of Chardonnay with that NY strip. Could we learn to compromise and make it work? Or were we destined to eat alone?

     I'm quite thrilled to say that the softly lit Flinchy's accommodated us in a most engaging way, astutely sensing our desire for more delicious warm bread slathered with honey butter, perceptively providing us with diverse dishes that were never contrived, and carefully considering the vegetable lovers among us while satiating the carnivores.

     The kitchen sent out their irresistible homemade tortilla chips accompanied by a tangy salsa with a slow burn (What else would you expect from the chili master?) and by the time I had crunched one down, followed by a cool drink of water, the basket was empty. Same for the house-made potato chips, crispyfried Russets dusted with Old Bay, that pretty much erased the notion that sharing is a good thing.

Flinchy's Hot Rock ensures sizzling food on your fork for every bite

     Before I could mourn the fact that I only got two chips, the appetizers arrived, and my attention shifted to the enticingly fragrant bowl of calamari before me. My relationship with calamari is a complicated one after a) having eaten three baskets of the stuff while on holiday in Thailand, and subsequently visiting the hospital, and b) having endured too many plates of what can only be described as fried rubber. However, our fellow diner insisted that Flinchy's calamari was not to be missed, and she was right. The aroma of lemon and white wine wafting from the dish was sublime, and the delicate medley of olives, sun-dried tomatoes, and arugula with tender sautйed calamari on the tongue restored my faith in the cheeky cephalopods, and everyone in the group who sampled the dish agreed.

     We also checked out the daily app and soup specials, a baby shrimp and crab flatbread, loaded with seafood, tomatoes and three cheeses and accented with a chiffonade of basil, and an artichoke and asparagus tomato basil soup. The flatbread was chewy and just substantial enough to heft the bevy of toppings without losing any on the way to your mouth. The dish was generous enough to accommodate our group, and along with the calamari, whet our palates just so. The soup was thick and hearty, with perhaps a bit too much going on for my taste-the pure tomato flavor I love overwhelmed by the bite of the two other vegetables.

     In between courses, I've got to say this: Zana, our waitress, was outstanding. Ours was a large, boisterous bunch, bombarding her with questions and requests, and she didn't miss a beat, even though the restaurant was bustling that Wednesday night. The conversation at our table drifted toward the topic of service in restaurants, and the sad fact became apparent-most people have stopped expecting much unless they're paying through the nose (or the stomach) for their experience, leaving the common diner wanting when it comes to having plates cleared in a timely fashion, that second glass of wine arriving with dinner, or perhaps just a friendly smile. All of the service staff at Flinchy's is young, adorable, and upbeat, shifting seamlessly from the outdoor deck bar (the "Trainwreck Deck") to the more sedate dining room and its clubby leather booths. Not stuffy, not bored, not disinterested. Not bad!

     So, dinner. While dining at Flinchy's, you'll most likely see servers delivering steaming slabs to tables, and observe patrons reliving a second childhood as they cook their own steak/lobster tail/ ahi tuna on said slab with delirious delight. Proprietor Matt Flinchbaugh's parents discovered the Hot Rock cooking method on a trip to Germany, and the raging success of the method at Flinchy's has made it a keeper. Two of my tablemates ordered Hot Rock entrees, the filet mignon and the sushi-grade ahi tuna, and both cooked away while the rest of the table tucked into our entrees and tried not to be jealous. Hah! Fortunately, the gentleman with the filet was seated to my right, and I was able to obtain a tender slice of beef, which I promptly dunked into an intriguing root beer sauce (the filet comes with a trio of sauces) that was wily enough to stand up to the meat without distracting from it, with an effervescent finish that was, for lack of a better phrase, pretty cool.

     The ahi fared just as well in our group taste test, and the Rock was fantastic for ensuring that the tuna was seared just so, and the side of garlic mashed potatoes wasn't too hard to take, either (see the box insert for more on the Hot Rock), though at certain times I felt like I was center stage in an episode of Iron Chef, surrounded by sizzling and the occasional whiff of something charred-the downside of cooking your own food being you must watch it while debating the virtues of online shoe shopping.

     Chef John Noonan sends out some lighter dishes, too, giving a nod to that wonderful Italian way of gently cooking top-notch ingredients to bring out their flavor, like the shrimp and scallop aglio over linguine, a flavorful toss of seasonal vegetables and seafood, that allowed the nuances of the vegetables to emerge, like the sweet white carrots, unencumbered by a heavy sauce.

     Another simple, well-executed dish was the Mediterranean chicken breast, with an airy, golden coat that was crisp without being obtrusive, the olives, feta and sun-dried tomatoes used judiciously enough to add the right streak of flavor. Another at our table had goosebumps- that is, a turkey and bacon sandwich on a pretzel roll-normally served during lunch. The staff readily accommodated the after-hours request, and the garlic mayonnaise slathered on the sandwich nearly gave me?

     Pause, actually. As I happily sampled what everyone else had ordered, my dinner, the piece de' resistance, and a special that evening, imploringly waited for my attention. Frenched lamb chops, dusted with cocoa and topped with a veal reduction and a sprinkle of crabmeat, were fantastic. The bitterness of the cocoa gave the meat a complexity that mint sauce never will; the veal reduction added a decadence that, as an avid cook, I will always find comforting. Alas, the plate was too much for me, and I gladly endured the same for lunch the next day, when the accompanying vegetables had absorbed more of the reduction, making them a delight unto themselves.

     As I glanced around the restaurant, over coffee, waiting for a taste of Frangelica-kissed crиme brulee that I certainly didn't need, I noticed several well-dressed couples tucked away in corner booths, enjoying romantic dinners, as well as groups of laid-back casual diners enjoying a night out, and of course, us. The urban-ish bar is separated from the dining room by panes of frosted glass, and the feel is cozy. Now and then, patrons would enter the dining room from the outdoor deck, where a band was playing and the crowd was appreciatively enthusiastic. Those in the dining room enjoyed their nook of privacy and an upscale meal, while those outside partied on with more casual fare and drinks under the night sky.

     Flinchy's may incorporate global flavors into its repertoire, but it's an inherently American restaurant, sort of the little black dress that works for many occasions but always carries the air of a classic. With a montage of flavors and something for everyone, you'll always be glad you came. I'm going back tonight for more chips.