Odds are, if you’ve lived in Philly for most of your life, you've been to Fork in Old City. Maybe it's where you celebrated a relative's birthday in 2007, or where your parents had their anniversary dinner before they stopped trying new restaurants, or maybe it was the scene of your neighbor's awkward son’s graduation brunch. It's just that kind of classic Philadelphia institution.

Thanks to Fork's consistent American food and thoughtful service, the restaurant—eldest sibling of the A.Kitchen and High Street family—has lingered on Philadelphia's various special occasion lists since it opened in 1997. Straightforward and classy, yes. Exciting? Not so much. And who can blame them? It's hard for any restaurant to keep hearts aflutter nearly three decades in. But with a refreshed look and a new chef, Fork feels alive again—without losing what made it iconic in the first place.

In its latest iteration, Fork straddles the line between formal and informal in a way most Philly places can't. The menu is elevated enough for a steak dinner or Mother’s Day brunch, but there’s a playfulness to the dishes that hasn't been part of the restaurant’s repertoire in recent years. Snails are hidden inside an adorable snail-shaped brioche, and the ginger-laced cannoli is made of housemade pretzel (because: Philadelphia). All of Fork's seasonal food ranges from pretty damn good to “I’m going to start braising my own rabbit so I can have this every day” excellent. And you’ll be just as satisfied with the roast turkey sandwich at lunch as the bucatini at dinner.

Menus and light fixtures can change, but it's still Fork after all. So the bill will be higher than what you’re paying at your average burger-and-salad neighborhood spot, and Gladwynners will still be deep-sniffing wine before diving into their monkfish. But now, there are more casual ways to enjoy a meal here, too. During the week, especially at lunch, Fork works as a quiet respite for neighbors to eat chicory salads and Business Executives to do Business. Come Saturday night, the dining room has couples who are drinking like they’ve got free childcare and friends who are thrilled that they listened to their server and ordered the smoked bluefish rilletes to share.

As re-invigorating as the restaurant's new menu and more relaxed attitude are, neither upstage what Fork has always done well: service. The people taking orders and refilling glasses know what you need before you do. They'll split the creamy walnut pansotti before it hits the table so you don’t have to touch silverware with your boss, or suggest a wine that’s not listed on the menu that will go better with the bone-in NY strip.

In an era of pop-ups, it's refreshing to eat somewhere that knows itself—and when to adapt. No matter the occasion, Fork remains a master class in service. So save it for your next big night out, or pop in the next time you’re strolling Old City. There’s never a bad time to be here. Fork is back, baby.