MarketStEl

So I was strolling down 9th Street yesterday evening (Saturday, 11/4) around 5 and saw the Craig LaBan clip in the window of Taqueria de la Puebla. As I stood there reading it for a good little while, a guy came out of the restaurant and said to me, "You want tacos? Come on inside." Turned out he was one of the staff. One good sign: When I walked in, about half of the 8 tables were occupied. By the time I was midway through my tacos al pastor (I didn't have the stomach for the eyeball or cow's head tacos that night), almost every table was occupied. Mine was the only non-Mexican face in the place. (I did a similar head count as I passed La Lupe. About 40% of its tables were full, and the gringo/Mexican ratio was about 50-50.) Service was so fast it made my head spin, and very friendly to boot. Prices can't be beat (I only ordered the one plate plus a cup of coffee -- they sweeten theirs with honey before serving it to you). And the food was all that and a bag of chips. I predict they'll have to consider larger quarters within six months or so.

In this picture: is the phrase on the all-yellow sign on the right "10 Years"? And if so, could you tell me what 10-year-old cheese this fellow's selling? Your answer could help settle a long-running dispute in another discussion on this forum.

Will do, via either PM or post to the "Dinner!" thread in the Cooking forum.

Also: Paid my first visit to Giunta's last week. Purchased 3 pounds of ground sirloin, 2 center cut pork chops, slightly less than 2 pounds hot Italian sausage, and a pound of beef cubes. The sausage and ground beef are excellent, and I have the lasagna to prove it. Still. Sitting in my fridge since I made it on Monday. Can't report on the rest of the purchase yet, but this is a good start.

No argument from me regarding the beer! Much better at Independence. (In fact, it's no contest.) As for the food, it's good pub grub at Independence, but suggesting (as your comments do) that it's better than a Tommy DiNic's roast pork sandwich is itchin' for a fight, Rich. ← No, Bob, not my intent. Indpendence's food is superior to the food at the Marriott, is what I meant. ← You're absolutely right, as you are on the beer. I just didn't think of it as a "sports bar." But yes, they do have plenty of wide-screen HDTVs showing sports.

D*mn, and to think I missed out on this wonderful mind and excellent chef! I have a similar argument for writers: "In order to break the rules properly, you must know what they are first."

Well, I definitely break one rule, as my foodblog should demonstrate: I serve cheese as an appetizer. If it were up to Vince or me, it'd be the main course as well.

Deal! I have a pork loin chillin' in my freezer, waiting for an appropriate recipe. This looks like it might be one. There's been a lot of mishegas in my life this week, so I haven't been able to keep up with your adventures on a regular basis, but what I've been able to follow has been quite fascinating. To be honest, after this week, I could probably use some of that spacecake. Got a slice to spare? Edited to add: I assume you're cooking the roast in a Dutch oven and not an open roasting pan? (And if you reply to this question with "Of course--I'm in a kitchen in the Netherlands," I will have to shoot you. )

Following myself up because, while I understand that clipping coupons is time-consuming, I get the impression that some folks here think that with the club card, they're doing all the saving they can: And I have the frequent-shopper club card for both Acme and Super Fresh. I tack the coupons on top of the store specials.

Gladly! Do you go to several different grocery stores? Yes. As I do not own a car and generally do not want to take public transit for large grocery trips (though I did do so once, when I had a big cookout coming up and a Pathmark in Deep South Philly was running an incredible sale on ground beef; you should have seen me wrestling my shopping cart up the steps of the bus, and no, the driver wasn't about to run the lift for that), my supermarket loop consists of three stores. Font sizes are proportional to the fraction of my weekly grocery bill that gets left at each store: Acme, at Passyunk and Reed; Super Fresh, at 10th and South; Whole Foods, across 10th Street from the Super Fresh. I also regularly patronize the Reading Terminal Market and have been gradually increasing the percentage of total groceries I buy there (it's my primary produce source); I also shop the Italian Market semi-regularly. Occasionally I stop by the Hung Vuong Asian supermarket on Washington Avenue and a Save-a-Lot one block west of Hung Vuong. If I need a fresh ingredient for a dish I'm making that night, I may route my trip home from work via Upper Darby to stop in at the H-Mart on Terminal Square. Do you clip coupons? All the time! I clip far more coupons than I actually use, but I like to be prepared in case a product I use or might use goes on sale. I try to buy condiments and staples, like Hellman's mayonnaise and Jif peanut butter, this way all the time. I also print online coupons from Smartsource.net. What do you usually buy at the grocery store? My typical grocery store run involves fruit juice, sports drinks, pantry staples (canned tomato products, pasta, condiments and sauces, canned soup, oils and vinegars and suchlike), breakfast meats for Sunday brunch, deli meats and cheese, blocks of cheese for snacking or cooking, pet food, paper goods and cleaning supplies. Not all of these are purchased on every weekly run. I split my meat and poultry purchases between the supermarkets and the 9th Street ("Italian Market") merchants, with 9th Street getting the larger share. Of late I've also been buying meats from some of the RTM vendors. The RTM gets the lion's share of my produce purchases, with occasional forays onto 9th Street. Eggs I buy only on 9th Street, unless there's a really good special on them at the Acme (the Super Fresh almost never has a really good special on eggs). I also visit DiBruno Bros. about once a month for specialty cheese purchases, including Parmigiano-Reggiano and Romano (not always Locatelli). Do you tend to buy more meat or more produce? I'd say it's about half-and-half, when you toss in frozen vegetables on the produce side. Absent those, I'd say my meat-to-produce purchase ratio is about 60/40. Are you too ashamed to make purchases from the "reject bin?" Not at all--but there's rarely a reject bin on the floor of the two supermarkets I usually shop. The Save-a-Lot takes the place of the reject bin. Do you make a list? Always. And I always end up buying things off-list. It's sort of like the Federal budget. How many refrigerators and pantries do you have for food storage? I live in an apartment! I only have room for one refrigerator/freezer. The two leftmost cabinets of the six overhead serve as my pantry, supplemented by storage space in the bottom of what used to be our microwave cart (there's enough kitchen counter space in my kitchen for the microwave to live there instead). Do you enjoy grocery shopping as much as I do? Clemens Family Markets (RIP) used to run radio ads that began, "Okay, all of you out there who actually love shopping for food raise your hand." I raised my hand every time. I find it both a sensory delight and a fiscal challenge: As the former maintenance man in my building put it, "I view grocery shopping as a game of me vs. the supermarket -- Who is going to walk out with more of my money?" If he saved 40% or more on his total bill, he treated himself to a drink afterwards. I haven't gotten to that point, but I shoot for the same goal.

Hey, great -- a new voice! Welcome, and I'm all ready for the trip. Sounds like you need to educate your hubby. This will require a lot of time and even more patience. I have a couple of questions: --Are your travels on your own time, or are these trips part of your duties as an au pair? Or both? --What is that thing with the circular door in the kitchen next to the oven?

Well, since this thing is still open, and I'm up (blame Miss Curiosity, who apparently has not heard that Daylight Savings Time has ended; however, I had set my alarm for 5 am anyway), you're all welcome, and do look me up should your travels take you to Philadelphia, which I hope they will someday. And if you're in the area, won't you come hear us sing? Our first concert of the regular season is Dec. 2 at the Lutheran Church of the Holy Communion in Center City, and you'll have the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see me "dance" as a Sugar Plum Fairy in our rendition of The Nutcracker: Men in Tights!. All you need to know about the Philadelphia Gay Men's Chorus I've enjoyed this as much as you have. Now I'm off to Central Europe, vicariously.

I knew I'd have to report for jury duty the Wednesday before the start of the blog, but I didn't know in advance that I would be chosen. (Like many counties in the US, Philadelphia has a "one day or one trial" jury selection system. If at the end of the day, you aren't chosen for a jury, you're done for at least the next 12 months; if you are, you're done for at least the next three years at the end of your trial.) That's quite a tribute! Thanks, and tear the roof off the sucker!

I see I took long enough to post this that some late questions got in. Did I tell you I love my job? You're welcome. Hoagies are indeed supposed to be made from preserved, processed or cured meats of the sort you'd find at any delicatessen counter. In addition to the "Italian" hoagie described above, the "American" (ham and American cheese) is also common, as are roast beef, turkey and tuna. However, you can also find "cheesesteak hoagies" and "cheeseburger hoagies" at places that serve both kinds of sandwiches. We did a seven-song set: "Miss Twinkleton's School for Sensitive Boys" "It's A Good Thing He Can't Read My Mind"* "Java Jive" (performed by our small auditioned ensemble, Brotherly Love) "Rhythm of the Fire" (I'm not sure I have this title right; also sung by BroLo) "Love Don't Need a Reason" (popularized by the Flirtations, this song, which we sing in an arrangement created for the New York City Gay Men's Chorus, sounds to me like the theme from a TV dramatic series) "Something Inside So Strong" (a favorite of mine) "That Old Black Magic" (backed up by the band that backed up Joan, composed of local session musicians. We thought that the song would bomb based on the one rehearsal, but these guys and gals were pros -- everything jelled perfectly when it came time to perform for real) *paging mizducky -- I think your chorale performs numbers by the woman who wrote this song regularly...

And that, Kobi, is why I didn't mess with that cheesesteak place Karl Bricker and I drove past on Shawnee Mission Parkway in Merriam the last time I was in Kansas City. Oh -- and thanks for triggering a flashback to "Philly Mignon" in Independence Center way back in the '70s, before I knew what a cheesesteak was supposed to taste like! Now for the last act.... Saturday, 9:30 p.m. I'd invited three of my fellow chorus members -- Vince, who you've met, baritone Giang Nguyen and fellow second tenor Bryan Scheckman -- to join me for dinner at Bump and help me burn off a gift certificate I won at a Philly AIDS Walk fundraiser earlier in the month. Just about every gay bar in the city serves food. It's the only way they can legally open on Sundays. (This is how the city managed to make the smoking ban nearly universal: The ordinance exempts only those bars that get 10% or less of their revenues from food. Since food must account for at least 30% of revenues for a bar to obtain a Sunday sales permit, that means that there's not a bar in the gayborhood where you can smoke.) Most of the food served in Philly's gay bars is decent but unremarkable, variations on the standard pub-fare or Olde Steake House menu. Bump, with its aspirations to Fabulousness, is the notable exception. Fortunately, this being Philly, even the Fabulous places can't get away with having too much attitude, so it was no problem for the three of us -- three of the nicest people you'd ever want to meet but far from Fabulous -- to be seated by the Locust Street windows: That's Giang on the left and Bryan on the right. and served by a too-cute waiter dressed for the restaurant's Halloween theme, which seemed to revolve around sports. The menu at Bump mixes elements of Fabulousness with elements of the everyday, just rendered upscale. And we mixed and matched these elements in our dining choices. Whenever I eat out at Bump, I can usually be counted on to order the fried calamari appetizer. It's a dish they do very well -- lightly breaded squid fried until the coating is just crunchy, served with spicy remoulade and marinara sauces. But I wanted to try something I don't usually order this time, so it was quite a relief to hear Giang say that he wanted to order the fried calamari. That left me free to order the cheesesteak spring rolls: There were three of these delicate but substantial little rolls on my plate when I ordered them, and I had to remind myself that I was here to photograph the food as much as eat it. I think these might have been even better as cheesesteak hoagie spring rolls, with julienned veggies (lettuce and tomato might not work in a spring roll wrap) along with the beef and Monterrey jack cheese. Still, these were pretty tasty creatures, and as a result of my eating them, I set a personal record for most cheesesteaks or cheesesteak-like foods in a 24-hour period. For the main course, Giang ordered something fairly old school but with an updated twist: Chicken Boursin. Note the artful presentation, with the breaded chicken cutlets arrayed atop the mashed gold potatoes and bracketed by the spinach. Bryan had something no less artful but more contemporary -- the Southwestern chicken quesadilla, with roasted veggies taking the place of the fries. And as for me? I decided I'd also go old-school luxe and order the half roast duckling with sweet cherry glaze, wild mushroom risotto and fried noodles. In at least this little corner of the planet, tall food lives! Chris -- who had joined us by this point -- kept it real simple and real old school, ordering a Caesar salad. The duck was not only Fabulous, it was fabulous -- moist without being greasy. The cherry glaze complemented the gaminess of the duck. Giang and I exchanged bites, and the chicken boursin wasn't bad either, though given that the sauce contains no cheese (it's a garlicky cream sauce), I can't figure out how they gave it that name. Even though we spent much of the meal railing against the snootiness of the Fabulous -- or at least the guys who are pretty and know it, many of whom make pretty poor conversation partners -- I must admit that we had an absolutely Fabulous time at Bump, enhanced when the treasurer of the chorus showed up dressed as a priest, accompanied by a friend of his and a member who's not singing this time around, as he has had to care for his ailing mother back in Iowa. And with that, an absolutely fabulous week -- sometimes even a Fabulous one -- drew to a close. One for the history books, you might even say. I haven't had this much fun since the weekend I returned to Kansas City back in June. Of which speaking: moosnsqrl, this parting shot's for you: As he shot this picture, my friend Rick asked me, "What's 'Rock Chalk'? Some kind of chalk?" See you all online. I will check later for any last-minute questions.

Saturday, 6 p.m. After getting off the R5 Doylestown-bound train and thanking the conductor who complimented me on my sharp tuxedo, I find myself after a short walk of about 5 minutes in Keswick Village, a charming little shopping district in the Glenside section of Abington Township that was developed in the 1920s. Keswick Avenue, the district's main drag, was closed off for a children's Halloween parade. My destination is the Keswick Theatre, originally a vaudeville house, then a movie theater, and a concert venue since the early 1990s. "Smooth jazz" artists and other acts that appeal to a more mature crowd tend to play here. Which is why I'm here tonight: comedienne Joan Rivers has asked the Philadelphia Gay Men's Chorus to open her show here. (She did the same thing with the San Francisco and New York City gay men's choruses when she played those cities.) Miss Rivers, as things turned out, was very down-to-earth and accessible, and her humor sharp-edged. After she did her preliminary run-through between our rehearsal and the start of the show: she sat for a group photo with us. (Sorry, no photo! The photo was taken with another PGMCer's camera, not mine, and I haven't gotten the link to his photo site yet.) While waiting for our stage call, I decided to wander around the area. Failing to convince any of my fellow choristers to follow suit, I ambled across Keswick Avenue and stumbled across this little brewpub: G.G. Brewers -- the G.G. stands for Gerry and Gina, the proprietors and may-as-well-be-married partners -- opened here in March and has already developed a loyal following despite some minor setbacks in the first few months, judging from the patrons in the pub when I went in. You can also get wine and mixed drinks here, but the specialty of the house is beer -- their own, brewed right inside the pub, a very cozy space that already has its own crowd of regulars. Behind these plywood doors is the brewhouse. Gina explained to me that they had to keep it locked because curious customers kept tampering with the equipment. There were four brews on tap this evening: For efficiency's sake, and because I knew I couldn't sing if I were all hopped up, I ordered the sampler -- a 4-ounce glass of each brew. From left to right, the beers are as listed on the sign: Nut Brown, Keswick Lite, What's Up Weisenbach, Naughty Boy Stout. For a pair of relative neophytes at brewing, these two have done quite well. My favorite of the four was the What's Up Weisenbach, a wheat brew that packed a punch -- 13.5% alcohol by volume, according to Gina -- and had a malty flavor with a hint of strawberry. All the beers at this pub were on the malty side, which isn't a problem for me -- I prefer them that way. The stout was unusually mild for a dark brewed beer, and the Nut Brown had a nice honey-like flavor. But the biggest surprise for me was the Keswick Lite -- a light beer that tasted like actual pilsener rather than hop-flavored water. Gina explained to me that they brew Keswick Lite in response to customer demand. If it were up to them, they probably wouldn't serve a light beer at all. The brewpub offers a menu of classic pub fare that I imagine must be as good as the beer. I wouldn't know, for I didn't try it -- I was saving my appetite for dinner after the performance. Gina's partner Gerry is the head chef and brewmaster. After a slightly wary introduction in which he explained that someone who had come in a little while ago and taken pictures and notes ended up dissing the place and the owners on another forum, he warmed up after Gina explained what I was doing and even agreed to appear in a picture. In retrospect, I probably should have ordered something to eat at GG Brewer's, for this is what I returned to backstage at the Keswick: Okay, I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, and the pizza was filling. But were I judging these pies with my fellow Pizza Clubbers, they would have been mere five-block pies. GG Brewers' Brewing Company 282 N. Keswick Avenue Glenside, PA 19038 215-887-0809 Nearest SEPTA service: Bus Route 22 from Olney Terminal (Olney station, Broad Street Line) or Willow Grove to Easton Road and Keswick Avenue. Or take the R1 Airport, R2 Warminster or R5 Lansdale/Doylestown Regional Rail lines to Glenside station and walk north (to the right relative to an outbound train) up Easton Road for about 5 blocks to the second signal at Keswick Avenue. The pub is about 1/2 block down Keswick Avenue on the right. Still to come: Dinner!

Saturday, 3:10 p.m.: The Mission I had promised all of you hoagies, and this time, I wasn't going to let you down. It's time, then, for our third and final history lesson. The Other Sandwich That Defines Philadelphia: The Hoagie A few weeks back, I was watching an episode of the short-lived sitcom It's All Relative on Logo. In this clever, underappreciated series adapted from the 1920s Broadway hit play Abie's Irish Rose, a young woman whose parents are a well-off, liberal gay male couple marries the bartender son of a conservative, Archie Bunkerish owner of a Boston pub. The show gleefully showed how both sides of this mixed family harbored unfounded prejudices of the other. In the course of this episode, the bartender announced that he was going to get sandwiches for his co-workers: "I'm going out to pick up some hoagies. What do you want?" My response upon hearing this line was, "What Philadelphian wrote the script for this show?" In Boston, there are no hoagies. Subs they've got, along with grinders, their oven-toasted cousins. But no hoagies, for the hoagie is as specific to the area around Philadelphia as the po'boy, another well-known sandwich in this general family, is to New Orleans. Hog Island Shipyard workers reading the Hog Island News, 1918. Library of Congress collection. The origins of the hoagie are not as clear-cut as the origins of the cheesesteak are. The most common creation legend traces the sandwich to Italian immigrants to Philadelphia, who carried "Italian sandwiches" stuffed full of cold cuts, provolone cheese, lettuce and tomatoes to work with them. Many of these men -- and their sandwiches -- went to work at the Hog Island Shipyard, the world's largest shipyard at the time, hastily erected in 1917-18 to build ships for America's World War I effort. While no ship produced at the yard would see action in World War I -- the yard's first ship was completed in November 1918, just after the signing of the armistice ending the war -- the yard would produce hundreds of vessels for the U.S. Navy from 1918 to 1922. Philadelphia International Airport now occupies the shipyard site. There are two versions of the legend that traces the hoagie to this shipyard. One is that the sandwiches themselves got the moniker "hoggie" because of the shipyard where so many of them were consumed at lunchtime. Another, related on the corporate Web site of Wawa, Inc., perhaps the largest maker of hoagies in the Philadelphia region, an out-of-work Philadelphian named Al DePalma, who had gone to the yard in search of a job, saw the men wolfing down these giant sandwiches and said, "These guys look like a bunch of hogs!" He then decided to set up a shop that would sell these overstuffed cold cut sandwiches, which he listed on his menu as "hoggies." And yet even the Hog Island origins of the hoagie are disputed. According to Delaware County Daily Times columnist Ed Gebhardt, the hoagie is yet another of the Things Chester Made That Made Chester. Regardless what version of the creation story you subscribe to, all can agree that a well made hoagie is a truly transcendent sandwich. To revive the analogy between music and food made back at the start of this blog, a good hoagie is a symphony of tastes and textures, the various meats, cheese, veggies, seasonings and condiments -- and, of course, the bread -- blending with and playing off one another to produce a unified composition. It was with this in mind that Rick and I set out to find the right hoagies to include in this blog. I started with Primo Hoagies on 11th Street above Walnut. Primo is one of the best hoagie shop chains in the Philadelphia area, known for its unusual specialty combinations. Unfortunately, their Center City East location closes at 3 p.m. on Saturdays, and it was 3:10 when we showed up at their door. So we continued on to the Reading Terminal Market, where one finds Salumeria, the cheese and prepared-foods emporium that also makes award-winning hoagies. Arriving there at 3:30, we were dismayed to see that they too had shut down their sandwich operation for the day. This, however, would turn out to be a blessing in disguise, as it led us to another first-rate hoagie maker in the RTM, Carmen's Famous Italian Hoagies. They don't lack for specialty sandwiches either: but I came here in search of the classic -- the Italian hoagie. Carmen offers two versions of this sandwich. That's Carmen himself holding up the menu. I immediately settled on the "Super Italian," which combines cappacola, salami, pepperoni, prosciutto, soppresatta and sharp Provolone. Rick was ready to request the regular Italian hoagie (no sopressatta), but was persuaded to upgrade to the Super, which is only 50 cents more. Carmen's has an efficient assembly-line operation going. Which is a good thing, for otherwise, the 10-sandwich order the person two ahead of us in line made would have kept us waiting for a while. But by the time I had finished my business at the order counter, the sandwich builders had already completed three of the sandwiches. Ours soon made their way down the line. Aren't these wonderful food porn shots? Trust me, they tasted as delicious as they looked. The only slip-up was that I couldn't locate the mustard I had asked for on mine, and thus ended up adding it when I got home. On the way home from the RTM, I noticed another bit of Philly food history come back to life. This neon sign, which sat over the bay window of the corner office of the president of the Reading Railroad from the 1940s to the 1990s, is being restored in a new location next to the main entrance. (Its original location has been upstaged by a huge rotating neon guitar over the entrance to the Hard Rock Cafe.) A formal relighting ceremony is scheduled for next month. This brings us to the afternoon. I need to head up to the RTM to pick up some groceries. When I get back: An evening with Joan Rivers, with food, beer and friendship on the side. Edited to replace incorrect image.

Saturday morning, 3:30 a.m. Chris walks into the room, awakening me from dreams of nothing in particular. "I'm hungry," he announces. "I want a cheesesteak." And with that, he heads back out to the 13th Street Pizzeria. A few minutes later, he returns empty-handed, for the 13th Street Pizzeria got rid of its grill when it remodeled and thus no longer serves steaks. As I had neither the ingredients nor the inclination to fix a cheesesteak at home, that left us with only one other option. A short cab ride later, we found ourselves at Cheesesteak Corner. Since 1966 -- when Geno's was established -- the two heavyweights in the cheesesteak pantheon have duked it out 24/7 where Passyunk Avenue crosses 9th Street. We chose to go with the original. Besides, we weren't sure that our English was good enough to order from Geno's. Pat's helpfully provides instructions on how to order a cheesesteak for the uninitiated. Having absorbed this knowledge many, many years ago, I was fully prepared when I went up to the window. "Whiz wit," I said, and stepped aside for Chris to order. "Fried onions...mushrooms...provolone...salt and pepper," he said. Despite this grave breach of protocol, the counterguy dutifully took his order and translated it into steakspeak. "Provolone wit, mushrooms," he told the cook, then said to Chris, "Salt and pepper are over there"--pointing to the condiment stand on the sidewalk. We waited until we got home to dress our sandwiches. Folks, others have said this before me, but: Both Pat's and Geno's are resting on their laurels. Their steaks may have been great once upon a time -- and indeed Philadelphia magazine permanently retired Pat's from eligibility for the Best Cheesesteak prize in the mid-1990s, as it had won it so many times before -- but they are merely good now. The meat was chewy and tasted as much of connecting tissue as it did of beef. Contrast the shot Chris took of me with my cheesteak to that of him eating my homemade number upthread: Of course, some of this may be attributable to my slightly cranky state at having been awakened for a cheesesteak run. I did manage to get back to sleep. When I woke up, I set about posting to the blog while munching on these: Philadelphians' overwhelming preference for Herr's potato chips has mystified me ever since I bought my first bag of Utz potato chips more than a decade ago. Frankly, Utz chips are the best tasting of all the major brands (as the country's fourth-largest-selling brand, I think Utz qualifies as "major") -- their regular chips have as much sodium as most other brands' "low salt" versions, and I agree with the legend printed on the back of every Utz bag explaining why: "Bill and Salie Utz...believed that while a little salt enhanced the flavor of a chip, a lot of salt would destroy it." I buy Herr's mainly for Gary, who much prefers them; however, I will allow that I prefer Herr's barbecue flavored chips to Utz. Those two varieties are comparable in sodium content. Afterwards, I went to work on a resume. As I wrapped that job up, my friend Rick called me to ask what I was doing. I told him I had to go on a mission, and asked if he would like to join me. To be continued next post.

Now it's time to rewind to Friday. On the way to the El -- the Market-Frankford Line is always called "the El," even when it's underground -- I encountered yet another reminder of Philly's increasing cosmopolitanism: and on the way from the El to the Route 109 bus to Chester, I bumped into a man who was shaking hands with this person. This is Lynn Swann, former Pittsburgh Steelers star and Republican candidate for governor of Pennsylvania. If he gets elected -- a highly unlikely event, as he is running against the state's most formidable fundraiser, former Philadelphia Mayor and incumbent Governor Ed Rendell -- he would be the first black governor in Pennsylvania history. I didn't realize that it was him until I had passed him, at which point I doubled back to get this photo. I spent what would ordinarily be my lunch hour and/or workout time watching this: This is not a Coneheads convention. These are freshmen enrolled in Widener's introductory engineering class. Each fall, they compete to launch bottle rockets across the recreational field behind Old Main. This was my first time shepherding the media -- well, a Daily Times reporter -- through the event. It was fun. I did eventually get my workout in. I also finally ate the salad I had packed on Wednesday. Yes, the croutons were all soggy. I didn't really care. The newspaper under my container is The Chester Spotlight, a new community weekly launched this past summer. The publisher/editor/staff reporter -- a former ad sales rep for the Delaware County (nee Chester) Daily Times -- and I have become fairly chummy. When he told me about shepherding the Chester High School girls' tennis team around one afternoon without their coach, who couldn't make it out of the school, I urged him to write a suitably outraged article in the paper. You see that article in this picture. He told me he has gotten several supportive e-mails and phone messages in response. After work, I went to my usual Friday happy hour hangout: Bump, the "gay luxe lounge" at 13th and Locust, in the heart of the "gayborhood." As I may or may not have remarked earlier, this city's gay bars tend to self-segregate along racial, age, class and gender lines. This may not be all that unusual, but I certainly noticed that more here than I did in Boston. Bump, at least at Friday happy hour, is refreshingly different in that it draws a mixed crowd in just about every respect except perhaps social class, for just about everyone here is middle class and up. These are two of the bartenders who serve us thirsty folk with a smile: Joe on the left, Danny on the right. and this is what I usually ask Danny to serve me -- a chocolate martini, which runs only $3 at happy hour: And here's Joe's take on the same cocktail. You tell me, which of these bartenders deserves his QueerCard more? From here, I met Chris, and we both headed to Lula to meet Gary. There Chris ran into a former neighbor on 10th Street who also knows us -- did I tell you that this is really a small town? -- and we all consumed several glasses of wine, which got me to the point where I had to retire myself from Pure later that night lest I become the subject of another humorous photo montage for falling asleep. Instead, I fell asleep at home, and Chris went back out. Which sets the stage for the adventure I referred to yesterday morning. That's the subject of the next post.

It will take at least that long. Between lack of dissatisfaction with the current system in the state's more culturally conservative interior, the unionized employees' interest in preserving the status quo and the legislature's disinclination to kill what is seen as a steady source of guaranteed revenue, getting a more liberal liquor regime in Pennsylvania will be an uphill fight--and that's on a good day with the wind at our backs.

So we've made it to Sunday and the end of another blog. It's been a great week and a great start to my 49th year. Of course, there are always loose ends to tie up, and I'm going to tie them all up in a marathon session today. If Susan in FL -- who, it turns out, was in PHL yesterday (sorry I missed you) would be so kind, I'd like to have the chance to answer any last-minute questions arising from this barrage of posts later tonight before the blog is closed. But since it's still open, and it's a new day, it's time for one last "Today in History" installment: Today is Sunday, October 29, the 302d day of 2006. There are 63 days left in the year. Today's Philadelphia forecast: Mix of sun and clouds, with strong gusty winds continuing; high wind advisory remains in effect. Forecast high 55F, forecast low 39F. On this day: In 539 BCE, Babylon fell to Cyrus the Great of Persia. In 1787, Mozart's opera Don Giovanni premiered at the Estates Theatre in Prague. In 1862, African-American troops fought for the Union as an organized unit for the first time in a skirmish at Island Mound, Missouri. In 1863, the International Red Cross was established by representatives of 16 countries meeting in Geneva. In 1886, the first-ever ticker tape parade took place when office workers in lower Manhattan spontaneously threw ticker tape out their windows during a celebration of the dedication of the Statue of Liberty (see Oct. 28). In 1923, the Ottoman Empire was dissolved and the Republic of Turkey proclaimed by its first president, Mustafa Kemal, later and better known as Kemal Atatürk. In 1929, stock prices on the New York Stock Exchange collapsed completely on "Black Tuesday," the great stock market crash that is considered the start of the Great Depression. (Anyone notice a pattern here? Methinks that if you're an investor, October is a lousy month to put your money into stocks.) In 1956, Israel invaded the Sinai Peninsula, pushing Egyptian forces back towards the Suez Canal, triggering the Suez crisis. In 1960, young Cassius Clay -- who later changed his name to Muhammad Ali -- won his first professional fight in his hometown of Louisville, Kentucky. In 1969, the first-ever computer-to-computer link was established over the ARPANET, the Defense Department-funded network that is the precursor to today's Internet. In 1998, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission in South Africa issued its final report, which condemns both sides for atrocities committed during the era of apartheid. In 2004, the Treaty and Final Act establishing the first European Constitution was signed by European heads of state meeting in Rome. Famous people born on this day include: Edmond Halley, English astronomer, in 1656 (on the Julian calendar) in Haggerston, London. Pierre Francois Xavier de Charlevoix, first historian of New France, in 1682 in St Quentin, France. James Boswell, 9th Laird of Auchinleck, diarist and biographer of Samuel Johnson, in 1740 in Edinburgh. Dr. Paul Joseph Goebbels, Minister of Propaganda in the Nazi government, in 1897 in Reydt, Germany. William Henry "Bill" Mauldin, two-time Pulitzer Prize-winning cartoonist, in 1921 in Mountain Park, New Mexico. Cornelius Alexander McGillicuddy (Connie Mack) III, U.S. Senator from Florida and grandson of longtime Philadelphia Athletics owner Connie Mack, in 1940 in Philadelphia. Winona Ryder, American actress, born Winona Laura Horowitz in 1971 in Olmsted County, Minnesota.

Before I do, however, I will leave you with one footnote to my Jersey tomato history lesson. IMO, one of the main reasons Jersey tomatoes have their well deserved reputation is because the growers in the Garden State continue to breed for flavor rather than for appearance or the ability to survive long-distance travel. Although there are many disturbing signs that the looksists have gained the upper hand of late -- supermarkets now carry highly uniform Jerseys in season -- the emphasis on growing for the local markets remains, and that alone means that even those uniformly gorgeous tomatoes are more likely than not bursting with flavor too.

You will find out later today the lengths I went to satisfy you, my readers and fellow food lovers. For now, let me just say that it's been an extraordinary day and night, topped off by the opportunity to experience Joan Rivers up close and personal. I'm so bushed, I can't even get you caught up with Friday right now. I'm going to catch some Zs right now and get back to business bright and early Sunday morning, Eastern Standard Time.

Read my bio? I think I'm the only eGullet Society member who bothered putting one up. However, don't read too much into the St. Louis references. For me to admit anything of worth existing in St. Louis would be tantamount to a Pittsburgher saying, "Well, Philadelphia isn't that depraved after all." Charlie adequately answered you on your question about dining, but let me just add that you will probably be just fine at any of the scores of restaurants in Old City. There's one sure to suit your craving, whatever it may be. --Sandy, forever Kansas Citian in a corner of his heart

But first, Phillyfood History Lesson Number Two -- an occasion to celebrate one of the great agricultural contributions of our next-door neighbor to the east: The Jersey Tomato <img src="http://forums.egullet.org/uploads/1161803453/gallery_28660_3771_26905.jpg" align=left> It's not at all certain that at the time New Jersey became the third state to ratify the Constitution, its farmers were growing tomatoes in abundance, as depicted on this commemorative postage stamp from 1987, but it is certain that they were being grown there. In the 18th century, tomatoes were grown more for ornamental purposes than as food. This gradually changed as the century progressed and ways to use the tomato in foods spread. While many educated Americans of the time knew that tomatoes were edible -- Jefferson used them in his cooking -- many others, especially the uneducated, did not. Indeed, they were widely believed to be poisonous -- and thereby hangs a tale. According to legend (reenacted in 1949 on the CBS TV program You Are There), in 1820, one Robert Gibbon Johnson, a wealthy resident of Salem, N.J. who had imported some tomato seeds from South America to grow in his garden, announced that he would eat a tomato in public on the steps of the Salem County courthouse. People traveled from hundreds of miles around -- as far away as Salem, Mass. -- to witness the event, which reportedly took place in September of that year. Whether or not this actually happened, this much is true: New Jersey is one of the nation's leading producers of tomatoes, and the "Jersey tomato" has a reputation for quality and flavor unmatched anywhere. (The state legislature in 2005 attempted to declare the tomato the official state vegetable, ignoring the inconvenient fact that tomatoes are actually fruit. They relied on a 19th-century U.S. Supreme Court decision applying a vegetable tariff to imported tomatoes for their argument.) Unfortunately, the effort failed, and New Jersey still has no state vegetable. It was passed over as official state fruit in favor of the blueberry. Tomatoes also figure prominently in the history of one of New Jersey's leading food manufacturers, the Campbell Soup Company of Camden. The company began as a maker of canned tomatoes, preserves, jellies and the like, but its fortunes changed in 1897 when a young chemist named John T. Dorrance joined the company and invented a process for condensing soup. Condensed soup made the Dorrances fabulously wealthy, the company a huge success -- so much so that it changed its name -- and the Jersey tomato crop needed to produce those millions of cans of tomato soup a huge commodity. I'd go on some more, but I'm being paged for a run to the State Store. More later.