MarketStEl

Relative to Friends Select, the directions you give would take you to Center City's southwest quadrant. The only Asian supermarket I know of in that direction is around 18th Street and Washington Avenue, and there's almost nothing besides the supermarket at that location. Heading a few streets East and a little South would (a) probably take you right past the RTM and (b) eventually deposit you at 12th or 11th and Washington, if you traveled far enough South. In the 1100 block of Washington there is an L-shaped strip mall with a huge supermarket (Hung Vuong) and one really big noodle place (Pho 75, mentioned in passing above), along with another noodle place (Pho & Cafe Viet Huong), a full-menu Vietnamese restaurant (Nam Phuong) and a new Chinese seafood house whose name I forget right now in a satellite building at the 11th Street corner. Note to self: Update your damn Web site already! You wrote about the transformation of Washington Avenue in a Philadelphia Inquirer Metro Commentary page essay in November 2004, and you still have a link to the no-longer-extant Philly.com page on your site. You need to put up your own versions of the edited copy you got from Pennsylvania Commentary editor Janet McMillan so people can read these for free. Okay, so you're one of those people who mystify me in my side note about Philadelphia street signs. That's okay; you're forgiven. The tree streets are all in Center City: Chestnut, Walnut, Locust, Spruce, Pine, from north to south. (There used to be two more north of Market: Mulberry was renamed Arch, and Sassafras became Race.) South of Pine, the streets have random names, the significance of which I would have to turn to my copy of "Mermaids, Monasteries, Cherokees and Custer: A History of Philadelphia Street Names" to discover; then once you get past Federal Street (two blocks south of Washington Avenue) the streets are named for Pennsylvania governors. I'll lay odds, though, that the pho place you remember is Pho 75 and the supermarket Hung Vuong.

Relative to Friends Select, the directions you give would take you to Center City's southwest quadrant. The only Asian supermarket I know of in that direction is around 18th Street and Washington Avenue, and there's almost nothing besides the supermarket at that location. Heading a few streets East and a little South would (a) probably take you right past the RTM and (b) eventually deposit you at 12th or 11th and Washington, if you traveled far enough South. In the 1100 block of Washington there is an L-shaped strip mall with a huge supermarket (Hung Vuong) and one really big noodle place (Pho 75, mentioned in passing above), along with another noodle place (Pho & Cafe Viet Huong), a full-menu Vietnamese restaurant (Nam Phuong) and a new Chinese seafood house whose name I forget right now in a satellite building at the 11th Street corner. Note to self: Update your damn Web site already! You wrote about the transformation of Washington Avenue in a Philadelphia Inquirer Metro Commentary page essay in November 2004, and you still have a link to the no-longer-extant Philly.com page on your site. You need to put up your own versions of the edited copy you got from Pennsylvania Commentary editor Janet McMillan so people can read these for free. Okay, so you're one of those people who mystify me in my side note about Philadelphia street signs. That's okay; you're forgiven. The tree streets are all in Center City: Chestnut, Walnut, Locust, Spruce, Pine, from north to south. (There used to be two more north of Market: Mulberry was renamed Arch, and Sassafras became Race.) South of Pine, the streets have random names, the significance of which I would have to turn to my copy of "Mermaids, Monasteries, Cherokees and Custer: A History of Philadelphia Street Names" to discover; then once you get past Federal Street (two blocks south of Washington Avenue) the streets are named for Pennsylvania governors. I'll lay odds, though, that the pho place you remember is Pho 75 and the supermarket Hung Vuong.

Later this evening. I need to recharge a bit after my foodblog.

Which Friends school? Friends Select? Certainly not Friends' Central -- that's in Wynnewood. I can't think of any Friends schools near Washington Avenue, and Friends Select is the closest one to Chinatown--unless there are Asian markets in Center City's northwest quadrant that I don't know about. Remember, this is Quaker country, and you've got lots of Friends in Pennsylvania.

I also need to correct a historical note I made in an early post. The Institute for Colored Youth--whose original location in the 900 block of Bainbridge Street is marked with a state historical marker--evolved into what is now Cheyney University (formerly Cheyney State College), part of the State System of Higher Education. Cheyney is also in Chester County. Lincoln University of Pennsylvania (there is also one in Missouri--another thing the two states have in common; both are HBCUs, although Missouri's Lincoln University is now predominantly white) is, however, the oldest historically black college in the United States, chartered in 1854 as the Ashmun Institute and renamed in honor of President Abraham Lincoln in 1866 (the year Lincoln University of Missouri was chartered).

As Americans, we've never really been comfortable with big cities or large-scale enterprises of any kind, public or private. I carry on occasional exchanges with a Californian of libertarian bent who shares my interests in transportation and urban policy that we both describe as "Jefferson vs. Hamilton," with me being the more Hamiltonian sparring partner. The trouble--if you can indeed call it that--with American culture is that it continues to revere Jeffersonian ideals in a Hamiltonian universe, and the two don't fit together all that well. I think we'd be a lot better off if we made peace with the fact that we are an urban nation (and, by corollary, with the fact that our suburbs are more city than country), and adjusted ourselves to living with crowding. You can carve out private space even in a dense city--and living in public at least means that should something happen to you, somebody's gonna notice and maybe even ask if they can help. I am certain that the cheeses sold at the Esh Egg Farms stand are not produced by them, and that the Amish meat and poultry purveyors obtain some--or even most--of what they sell from commerical sources that also supply other customers. But the Amish in the RTM who sell produce sell things that either they or their neighbors grow. That makes them somewhat distinctive and valuable.

My uncle once said that the day I left for Harvard, he knew I would never return to Kansas City to live. He was right, and for all I enjoyed growing up there, I'd definitely never return now. However, I do plan to visit next month for my 30th Pem-Day class reunion at Pembroke Hill. Glad you enjoyed it, and I too hope SEPTA cleans up its act.

Well, it's water ice, not frozen custard, but I'm glad to oblige: I'm eating a passion fruit water ice, which was fantastic! This capped off the first stop on the Pizza Club's 2006 "Best of Philly Review Tour," an epic project that will ultimately have us visiting all of the 40-odd places that have won a "Best of Philly" in the pizza category from Philadelphia magazine in its 33 years of existence and are still in business. We started the adventure in South Philly, at Marra's on East Passyunk Avenue (which, despite its name, runs more or less north-south; the 'East' here refers to its being east of Broad Street at this point; just before Broad, it turns into a street running more or less east-west and becomes just "Passyunk Avenue" from Broad west). We were supposed to hit three places today, but the five of us who made it decided after the second--La Rosa, at Broad and Snyder--that we were too stuffed to go for all three, so Celebre's at 15th and Packer Avenue will have to await the next club outing. I'd love to give you all the details of the trek now, but it's 1:30 a.m. here in Philadelphia and I must get up in the morning to go to work, cleaning up the kitchen (at least there's no Easter dinner this time) and getting myself ready once again to catch the 7:47 R3 to Swarthmore. There are some things that I'm sorry I didn't get around to doing, ordering a really big, loaded Italian hoagie being one of them. I also never made it up to the ninth floor of the Wanamaker Building to see whether I could see the Crystal Tea Room, so Ladies Who Lunch, wherever you are, I owe you one. Maybe the next time I blog, I can get these in. And God willing, there will be a next time. I've thoroughly enjoyed taking you through a broad swath of Philadelphia and its suburbs, checking out places to eat, introducing you to some of our food culture and history, and showing off some of the other things that make life interesting for me here in the City of Brotherly Love. I've grown to love this place and all its joys and frustrations, and I hope that some of that love has rubbed off on you. Sometime tomorrow--make that later today--you will be able to see all the exploits of the Pizza Club's Best of Philly Review Tour kickoff in a post on the Pennsylvania board. In the meantime, good night to all of you, and thank you for letting me share a week in my life and kitchen with you. Wait--did I say kitchen? I only showed you my fridge. Here's the total package: It's well-equipped, and has enough room for me to do just about anything I want. Now I'm done. Take care, and be well.

As this blog lurches towards its end, I'm going to bring you up to speed on what happened today, then offer a few final thoughts. I hope that Chris will be so good as to keep this open into midday on Monday so that we can exchange farewells. First, this morning, and a trip to the Italian Market. But before that, it's time to post the answers to the two final Trivia Questions and declare a winner. My apologies for winding up the Trivia Quiz with two difficult questions. Worse still, one of the two has an answer that is legitimately disputable. I'll dispose of that one first: The scrapple question. According to a source I trust--Jack McDavid--it is possible to make scrapple with no meat or meat by-products at all. His "Eat More Scrapple!" T-shirt, on sale at the Down Home Diner for $10, has a meat-free scrapple recipe on the back, and then goes on to comment: He traces the etymology to the word "panhaskreppel"--a stew of leftovers mixed with meal and cooked into a loaf. Yet equally reputable sources--one of whom mizducky cited in her answer--state that the word is derived from "scraps," specifically leftover animal parts. (Not "scraps" in the sense of "wastes," though.) I'm going to declare either True or False as the correct answer and let the experts sort things out. As for the second question: I got a couple of good guesses, including a historically informed one from Nina C., who speculated that the streets widened at the pre-1854 city limits. (In 1854, largely over issues of providing adequate police protection, the various townships, boroughs and districts within Philadelphia County were consolidated together with the City of Philadelphia into a single municipality coterminous with the county. This was the first in the great wave of 19th-century municipal consolidations that reached its apex with the 1898 creation of the five-borough City of New York.) However, no one got it right. These wide streets were "market streets"--that is to say, there were public market sheds in their centers. One such market shed survives to this day: the market building at what we now refer to as Head House Square after the market head house at the shed's northern end. Head House Square is on 2nd Street between Pine and Lombard, and the wide street continues one block further to South. The food merchants in the market stalls on 11th relocated two blocks to the east, which sets us up for the first trip of the day--but first, we have a three-way tie for first place among the three people who submitted responses to today's Trivia Questions, Nina C., mizducky and ghostrider. So, as promised, I'm throwing the three names into a hat and drawing one out. And the winner is...mizducky! If you could PM me with your mailing address, I will see to it that it gets to the Pennsylvania General Store so they can send you your gift basket. Now, on to the place where the 11th Street market relocated. Yo, Adrian! It's not the same as running up the Art Museum steps, but strolling through the Italian Market is every bit as much a "Rocky" experience. The 9th Street market's history is one of continuity amid change. This is a workaday place where vendors still sell produce from sidewalk tables: But just like the neighborhoods to its north--and increasingly, to its east and west--signs of Boboization abound. Where butchers, greengrocers and fishmongers once plied their wares, there are now stores selling local arts and crafts: funky cafés: and classier coffee houses and restaurants. Even some of the longtime merchants have gone upscale, most notably DiBruno Brothers: which added a prepared-foods store two doors up back in the late 1990s. Between these two is DiBruno's chief Italian Market rival: Claudio's has a philosophy I endorse: so it's nice to see that DiBruno's has adopted it too. They have added expressly made and own brand items, like the olive oil above and the Vermont Cheddar below: And, of course, they've completely upgraded their cheese offerings. But the store remains the same wonderfully cramped space it's always been. I hadn't been inside to buy cheese here in a while, so I felt I needed to keep in shape with a small purchase--about a quarter pound of this: Here's another of the city's better butchers: Esposito's suffered a fire that gutted the store two years ago, but they rebuilt and have recovered completely. They have something for everyone, from turducken and prime Kansas City strip steaks to the cheapest ground beef in town: With new immigrants to the city have come changes in the merchant mix that make the market increasingly less Italian: Another example--most of the street produce stands are run by Vietnamese or Chinese now: But as long as the Bambino casts his larger-than-life shadow on the place: it will always be the Italian Market. It will also always be the place to go for bargains-- --but be careful: some of those super bargains are on produce that's long in the tooth. Savvy 9th Street shoppers know what to look for. I ended up buying some tomatoes: and some Kirby cucumbers. When I told the vendor I didn't need ten--one would be more like it--he said, "So get five for 50 cents." I really can't quibble over that if they keep long enough. I also stopped into Fante's, the kitchenware emporium. Again, this is one of those places where, if you can't find it here, they probably don't make it any more. The store is celebrating its centennial this year. On the way home, I ran into a pleasant surprise: This is Celeste Morello, local historian and author of The Philadelphia Italian Market Cookbook: The Taste of South 9th Street. She was in front of Canulli's House of Pork, signing copies of her cookbook and her two-volume history of the Philadelphia mafia: The cookbook, she explained, was intended to be a small project to raise some startup money that would enable her to write her Mob history. She had printed only 1,000 copies for sale to friends, neighbors and market visitors. "When the book came out, all the big shots in the local crime family--Anastasio, Scarfo, all of them--were in Atlanta, doing time in the Federal pen," she said. "They found out about the cookbook before word got out on the street. I got a call from one of them asking, 'Could you send me a copy of the book, 'cause we got Eddie here in the kitchen, and he ain't making anything good.'" She sold out the entire 1,000-copy press run in four days. According to her, today, nine years later, The Philadelphia Italian Market Cookbook has never gone out of print and is the best-selling Philadelphia regional cookbook. You can get new copies online at Barnes & Noble; sorry, but Amazon.com only stocks secondhand copies. (Morello also has a bit part in the sixth and--or so we understand--last installment in the "Rocky" series, "Rocky Balboa," which shot here in the fall and winter.) Next up: I punt Sunday afternoon over to the Pennsylvania board.

From time I should probably be spending on my résumé clients! But I've been in touch with them and neither one of the ones I'm working on now wants them right away, so I have some time to play. Coming up: Sunday's events and the Trivia Contest wrap-up. I hope Chris will be so kind as to keep this thread open into Monday for exchange of farewells.

Before moving on to today's activities, I'd like to share with you a couple more of the good things about living in the heart of Philadelphia. One of them is its intimacy. I often say to visitors that Philadelphia isn't a big city--rather, it's 150 small towns thrown together. This is a city of neighborhoods par excellence, where traveling one block could take you into a vastly different world from the block you left. It also means that within those neighborhoods, people know and look out for one another. The physical neighborhood I live in--Washington Square West--and the cultural/physical one known as "the gayborhood" both have this quality. It has its downside--Philadelphians can be awfully provincial--but its upsides outweigh that. This is a very comfortable place to live, and that's a quality that I don't think enough people appreciate. The other is the sheer variety of good places to eat. You may have noticed from this week that I don't eat out a lot, but on those occasions when I do, there's a restaurant for almost any mood I might be in. I thought you might like to see a few of them. My apartment building sits on what I jokingly call the most caffeinated block in Philadelphia. It used to be even more caffeinated before Millennium Coffee, which was right across the street from my building's front door, closed down, but there are still a high number of coffee houses in the vicinity. My bedroom window overlooks this one: The Village Coffee House started life as the Mean Bean Café and changed hands about nine months ago. Especially since Millennium closed, it's become a popular hangout for gay locals. The outdoor seating area abuts a community garden, which makes it a pleasant place to sit. However, when it comes to running into people I know, no place beats this: The Così at 12th and Walnut is an even more popular hangout for a broad cross-section of the neighborhood, and it's very rare for an entire day to pass without me encountering a friend, acquaintance or neighbor hanging out here at either a window seat or one of the outdoor tables. A third coffee house, joe, on Walnut between 11th and the Forrest Theatre, serves only Fair Trade-certified coffee. I've heard that a Starbucks is slated to join the fray across Walnut from the Pac a Deli. Besides joe and the Forrest Theatre, the 1100 block of Walnut sports a wide variety of eateries from cheap to fancy. On the north side, from east to west, are a Wendy's; the Top Tomato Pizza Kitchen; a Subway; Pompeii, a high-end contemporary Italian restaurant; New Heaven, a Chinese restaurant that added a sushi bar within the past few months; and the Irish Pub, which I already described. On the south side, along with joe, are, from east to west, Moriarty's, a casual pub that is home of the best Buffalo wings in the city; the Caribou Cafe; and Così. The Caribou Cafe is perhaps the best French bistro in the city, and it's a great place to people-watch. I've eaten there several times, mainly for lunch, but also an occasional dinner. On the street floor of my building are two restaurants--one a newcomer, one a neighborhood institution. Lula is the newcomer: The space it occupies once housed Pamplona, a wildly popular tapas place that rested on its laurels a bit too long. The initial menu at Lula was quite similar in concept, if not in actual dishes, to that of Pamplona, but it was completely chucked a couple of months ago in favor of a much simpler menu that nonetheless is still heavy on the Mediterranean influence. The place has a great wine list, and they show "Desperate Housewives" at the bar on Sunday nights, followed by camp classic films. The neighborhood institution is More Than Just Ice Cream. This restaurant, which offers upscale comfort food in addition to ice cream, was on Pine Street in much funkier digs for many years. It relocated to my building about three years ago. (Its old location is now Mixto, a Cuban/Latin American fusion restaurant.) I don't think it's ever won a Best of Philly, but it did pick up another "best" recently: (Visions Today was a gay "city/lifestyle" magazine from the publisher of Delaware Today and Main Line Today magazines. It had high ambitions for offering the same sort of "service journalism" that city magazines now offer for a gay and lesbian audience throughout Greater Philadelphia. I speak of it in the past tense because the issue that followed its 2006 "Best" issue--the Spring 2006 issue, just out--is its final issue. The tone of the editor's note leads me to believe that he was as surprised by its folding as I was.) I'm also just a couple of blocks away from the totally transformed 100 block of South 13th Street, developer Tony Goldman's effort to do for Center City what he did for South Beach in Miami. Lots of interesting restaurants have opened in or around this block within the past few years. This is El Vez, one of Stephen Starr's 14 restaurants in the city. Starr--a former Electric Factory Concerts promoter--has a knack for putting the theater into fine dining with stagey interiors and "high-concept" themes. This place--named for a popular Mexican singer who impersonates Elvis Presley and who performed for the restaurant's opening--is what I call "high-kitsch" Mexican (this judgement based solely on the décor, as the only thing I've had there is drinks). It's also packed almost every night of the week. This is its brand-new next-door neighbor, Vintage, a wine bar and restaurant with a menu that I can't pin down with a single phrase. Its design shouts "Wine!" from the wine case panels on the walls to the chandelier fashioned from empty wine bottles in the center of the ceiling. And these are Vintage's next-door neighbors: The Full Moon Saloon is a "gentlemen's club." Danny's is a bookstore and video peep-show arcade catering to a mainly gay clientele. Some of 13th Street's rougher edges remain in spite of Goldman's and others' best efforts to rid the street of them. (Goldman might have tried had he owned the buildings--then again, he might not have, for he owns the building across the street that houses the Sansom Cinema, a gay porn house. He sheathed its entrance in frosted glass, making it the most tasteful porn palace you've ever seen.) Around the corner on Walnut is Portofino, an old-school fancy Italian restaurant that has been quietly turning out wonderful food for 35 years. It used to have a much more modest--and early-'60s-chintzy--facade when it occupied only the right half of the space you see here; when it expanded into the space next door, it also gave itself a major facelift. The popular BYO Lolita is also on 13th Street, but the picture came out real blurry. For dessert, there's this place that all of us on the Pennsylvania board have raved about: Again, should your travels ever bring you to Philly, You. Must. Stop. In. Here. For. The. Best. Frozen. Dessert. You. Will. Ever. Eat. I've only scratched the surface of dining in my little corner of Wash West. For instance, I've passed over Bump, the "gay luxe lounge" with a New York feel and a surprisingly good menu, and Aoi, home of the all-you-can-eat sushi special. Suffice it to say that we don't lack for fine dining choices in this little corner of the city.

Some do, some do not. And not all Lancaster County farmers and dairyfolk are Amish. I don't know what Earl Livengood's background is, but his farm is located there, IIRC. And so is Green Valley Dairy, whose cheese is made from USDA certified organic raw milk. But you're right about the potential overlap between Amish practices and Slow Food philosophy. I assume you've read my next illustrated post by now. BTW, notice anything interesting about that supermarket? How few white faces were in it, perhaps? Some people I am aware of make it a point to come out to the Freshgrocer from Center City, because it is clearly superior in cleanliness and variety to the major supermarkets in Wash West and Society Hill, but their numbers are small indeed.

Oh, yes--I forgot to mention that. That's why I stopped at Wawa to refuel my wallet. The ATMs in all their stores are surcharge free.

Saturday late afternoon: I still needed to get a few grocery items for the week, and as I left Widener, it dawned on me that my comments about the Freshgrocer based on my experiences at 40th and Walnut might not apply to the 56th and Market store. So I decided to route my trip home via 69th Street and stop by the Freshgrocer store at 56th Street station: No sooner had I stepped through the entrance than my fears were proved groundless. The same dazzling display of prepared foods greets you on entry to the 56th Street store: If I'd have been thinking, I should have suggested the Pizza Club visit this place! Their hoagie counter operates on an assembly-line system--given the line of people waiting for sandwiches, it probably has to--and features both of the top premium lines-- for a price: A nearby patron didn't think this display looked all that hot, but I sure did: The produce section is visually striking, and note the sign boasting about their selection of unusual items: Looks like I bought my Vidalias in the wrong place this week! It's rare to see a supermarket around here undercut the RTM on produce. Now keep in mind that West Philadelphia is not a terribly affluent part of the city. So you tell me what this fancy stuff is doing here: I guess there must be a market for it. Wouldn't you agree? The store has the full range of service counters--fresh seafood: meat and poultry: Note that there's something special about some of the meat sold here, something that you won't find in other supermarkets in the region: Remember what I was saying about taking your customers seriously? West Philly has a sizable Muslim population, including students from Muslim nations studying at Penn and Drexel. Sale prices here are very competitive: and the store has an international foods aisle the likes of which does not exist on the other bank of the Schuylkill--or in many of the 'burbs, I'll bet. Crackers from Spain: More Hispanic brands--and is that Pears' soap in the middle? A big selection of condiment and cooking sauces from Jamaica--which no doubt appeals to the neighborhood's Jamaican population (I have a friend who is Jamaican and lives not far from here): And huge bottles of spices you don't see in Center City that much. I picked up a variety of juice that the Super Fresh and Acme don't stock: ...and should I ever feel like keeping duck on hand for unexpected guests, I'll know where to get it: The store is very spacious, with wide, clean aisles: and security is excellent. One of the reasons supermarket operators shun inner-city locations is because shoplifting is often a bigger problem in such areas than elsewhere. This store is designed to make that much less likely. There is a security station inside the entrance/exit vestibule at which all bags must be checked, and CCTV security cameras are trained on every aisle. (It looks like the Freshgrocer was ahead of the curve on this: the 10th and Reed Acme, where I shop, recently installed large TV monitors in several places on the store's outer edge to alert shoppers to the fact that they were being watched by cameras now.) And what really won me over was the checkout magazine racks. Instead of the women's mags and gossip sheets that you usually find, this store had, among other titles such as Road & Track: I think I'll have to ask my friend Bernard, who lives about three blocks south of here, if I can move in with him. On second thought, I may not have to, for it's right next to the El: 56th Street station, BTW, may be open, but it's far from finished: But I was--with shopping for the day. Time to head home and rest before karaoke.

Saturday midday: I needed to refuel my wallet before going any further, so I walked over to 11th and Arch, where there is a Wawa on the corner. Convenience stores are usually places people pass through without thinking much about them, but people in and around Philadelphia have a curious attachment to their local Wawa. Even more than SEPTA, Wawa is part of the fabric of everyday life for millions throughout the greater Philadelphia region, and now in the Washington/Baltimore and Tidewater Virginia areas as well (though not in Washington or Baltimore proper). My guess is, it's the coffee. Wawa brews millions of gallons of the stuff every day, and IMO it's the best convenience-store coffee around, not to mention some of the best you can get anywhere. The company started as a dairy in the western Delaware County settlement of the same name--a stop on the PRR's West Chester Branch (the same line I ride every day to work*) was established to enable the dairy to ship its milk into the city faster--but as the home delivery business gradually faded in the 1960s, the Wood family, which owns the dairy, sought new ways to sell milk to its customers. In 1964, the first Wawa Dairy Farms convenience store opened in the Delaware County suburb of Folsom, and as the cliche goes, the rest is history. But where did that funny name come from? Wawa is the Lenape Indian word for the bird we know as the Canada goose. I'm guessing that the Indians gave it that name based on the sound of its call. That's why the corporate logo has incorporated a Canada goose since the early 1970s: That's the 1970s version of the logo over the door of the Wawa nearest me, in the 900 block of Walnut Street. Wawa stores are unusually busy places, most of them: and all of them have full deli counters that turn out good hoagies, decent hot dogs and a variety of hot sandwiches and soups: The item in The Philadelphia Inquirer business section that I referred to way upthread concerned Wawa's efforts to turn itself into a brand, much as Target or Ikea have. The company still produces its own milk and dairy products, as well as fruit juices and bottled teas, but store shelves now sport an increasing number of Wawa-branded products in other areas: Tea strikes me as a logical brand extension for a company with a reputation for good coffee. So does yogurt, which a marketing expert quoted in the Inquirer article questioned. I would draw the line at household cleaning products and pet food. Many Wawa stores in the 'burbs also sell gasoline, and the company is now one of the area's largest gasoline retailers. This is probably a good move for the company, as there's probably not a Philadelphian alive who has never set foot in a Wawa. From here, I went to Chester for the Shakespeare event I already described in another post. Next: the trip home from Chester. *As the urbanized portion of Delaware County ends--or ended--at the county seat of Media, and the territory along the ex-PRR West Chester Branch was largely rural beyond there, SEPTA eliminated service on the branch beyond Elwyn, the stop after Media, in the mid-1980s as track conditions on the branch deteriorated. Increased development in western Delaware and eastern Chester counties has led to increased ridership on the R3 Regional Rail line to the point where the parking lot at Elwyn is now full to bursting. To alleviate the pressure, SEPTA recently announced that it will restore service to Wawa--3 miles west of Elwyn--by 2010. A new park-and-ride lot will be built at Wawa. In another act of good corporate citizenship, Wawa Inc. recently sold the land for the lot to Delaware County for $1; the county will in turn convey it to SEPTA.

Picking up where I left off: Another food item closely associated with Philadelphia is the soft pretzel. Most of the pretzels sold by street vendors are baked in one of a handful of commercial bakeries, are dense and very chewy (to put it charitably) and aren't really improved by the addition of mustard. Fisher's soft pretzels are what soft pretzels should be: Freshly baked, doughy but not tough, with a slightly sweet taste that the salt (if you request it) balances. And they're even better with mustard or cheese. As I mentioned upthread, the RTM supports local growers and purveyors. One of the ways they do this is by offering space to those who can't rent permanent stands. This entrepreneur is from Cape May, N.J. You can find her serving samples of her line of seafood soups--including a New England clam chowder--every Saturday. Vegetable farmer Earl Livengood can also be found here every Saturday selling organic produce in a spot in the market's center reserved for a rotating mix of small produce growers: ------------------------- The Pennsylvania Dutch merchants have been setting up shop at the RTM for a quarter century as of this year. They are among the most heavily patronized merchants in the market: because they offer good food, including many homemade or made-there specialties, at decent prices: I usually buy my lunch meats at Hatville Farms. Their shaved country ham is delicious. They also have a sausage that is unique to Pennsylvania, Lebanon bologna. It's the right-hand column of stacked slices in this photo. The two stacks in the back are sweet, and the three in front are regular. This is a tasty sausage that somewhat resembles salami but has a more intense beef flavor--closer to that of dried beef. It is named for the county where it originated, halfway between Lancaster and Harrisburg. Should you ever find yourself in Pennsylvania, you owe it to yourself to try some of this in a sandwich or as a snack. Here's a shot of their own make scrapple. Note that they have a turkey variety for the fat-conscious, though why anybody watching fat would eat scrapple is beyond me: I bought a half pound each of sweet and regular Lebanon bologna and some dried beef from here on Saturday. (Their country ham, which tastes better than any deli ham I've had, is on the right.) I'm mainly here to buy produce, a category in which the Reading Terminal Market vendors excel in combining quality and value. (General manager Paul Steinke has been waging a steady campaign to operate the market more like a modern business, surveying customers to determine their thoughts about the market and its competition--and despite what some merchants think, it does have competition: after all, I could be shopping at Whole Foods or on 9th Street instead--and trying to get them all to stay open during all of the RTM's posted hours of operation, the Dutch excluded. His surveys have shown that the market enjoys an outstanding reputation for produce and for all-around quality, but is seen as a bit expensive in some other categories. Personally, I think that the many vendors who sell prepared foods could do a decent business marketing to the take-home crowd, and I don't think they've fully exploited that niche yet--and would have difficulty doing so anyway with the market's current 6 p.m. closing.) Bargains on quality produce abound at the RTM's two year-round, permanent produce stands. I used to buy heads of romaine, Boston and radicchio lettuce to make my own salads, but have succumbed to the convenience bug and now buy bagged salad mix--made on the premises--from O.K. Lee: They have poblanos in the mix this week as well: But the market's largest and busiest produce stand is run by the Iovine brothers: I know one of the Iovines--Bobby, who lives a block south of me and occasionally frequents some of the same gayborhood hangouts I patronize. He's at the produce stand so much, though, I wonder where he gets the free time: It's way too early for the local varieties, but apparently somewhere in the US, there's a corn crop ready, for Iovine's has a lot of it this week: They also have Vidalia onions in--genuine Vidalias, not Central American copycats: And for fungi, Iovine's mushroom selection can't be beat: The stand recently invested in a washing and packaging facility: that allows them to prepack many of the items they sell at prices no higher than they charge in bulk. And then there are their $1 "grab bags"--fruits and veggies that may be approaching their sell-by dates but are a great buy if you're going to use them right away: Had I known beforehand that Iovine's was matching Lee's price for bagged salad mix, I would have bought it here, for you get more for your money: Their price on red bell peppers this week is very good, but I don't need any right now: And talk about busy--this place is a zoo on Saturdays. Maybe I should follow the advice of friends and get here when the market opens at 8 a.m.: To wrap this visit up, I will show you some of the other food items you can get here, from one of the best roast pork sandwiches in town to pretty good sushi. If it's edible, you can probably find it here.

Thanks, Mike, and thanks for the compliment. Just like its biggest city, Pennsylvania is a wonderful place, really--but sometimes, again like Philadelphia, it's wonderful in spite of itself. Growing up as I did in Missouri--a state that has a few things in common with Pennsylvania, including an aging population and two large cities at either end that don't see eye-to-eye on most things--I think I understand the dynamics of the state, even if I may express them in a very Phillycentric fashion. How could I do otherwise? It is the part of the state I know best, after all. I'll leave it to you to correct my ignorance of other matters. Edited to add: Now I have to head to South Philly to meet up with a bunch of pizza-hungry fellow gluttons. More tours--and more pictures, and the answer to the final two Trivia Questions--to follow. There's still time to submit your guesses to what appear to be two real stumpers!

Claudio's or DiBruno's? Bryant's or Gates'? I understand these theological arguments very well. I guess I've made my declaration of faith with the quote to which you responded. Besides, I love variety, and DiBruno's has a wider variety of cheeses than Claudio's, as you note above. However, when I buy fresh Mozzarella, I get it at Claudio's gorgeous fresh Mozzarella shop, a separate store right next to the main store. (Pictures of both DiBruno's and Claudio's will be forthcoming.)

Now, back to yesterday morning. It started with a corned beef special for the roomie from the Pac a Deli: Calling this store a "convenience store" is actually something of a misnomer, for it has a somewhat more extensive product selection than the typical convenience store. For starters, it has a full deli counter, but then, many Philadelphia convenience stores do, Wawa (about which more later) having set the standard. But not even Wawa carries products like these: (BTW, the Pac a Deli was a Wawa once upon a time. Wawa Inc.--which owns, not franchises, its stores--has high standards for maintenance and safety, and stores it deems below the threshold get closed or sold--as this one did in the early 1990s.) One other thing the Pac a Deli has is beer (behind the deli guy in the first photo). The store obtained a take-out beer license about a year ago. With roomie taken care of, I set off to do a little grocery shopping, via the roundabout route. My ultimate destination was the Reading Terminal Market, but since it's right next door, I figured that I'd detour via Chinatown: Oops! That's the Aramark Tower at 11th and Market. I though you might want to see what I meant when I referred to it as a "Neo-Deco" structure. It's actually a very well-mannered skyscraper and a good complement to the landmark PSFS Building across Market one block west. (The PSFS Building, a National Historic Landmark structure built in 1932, is the first Modernist skyscraper in the United States.) Let's try again, one block north and one block east: This is the "Gate of Heavenly Peace," the official entrance to Philadelphia's compact Chinatown, at 10th and Arch streets. This neighborhood is constantly fighting to survive against multiple pressures--the Convention Center immediately to its west, the Vine Expressway on its north, no room to grow in the other two directions at all, and the general real estate boom all around. Somehow, it manages. Which is good, because it preserves not only another bit of history--Philadelphia's is one of the nation's older Chinatowns--but also many good places to eat, some of which I've been to. Like this one, right across Arch Street from the gate: (Aside: The street signs within Chinatown include the street names in Chinese characters. I guess the Streets Department was being a bit too literal about Chinatown's boundaries here.) This is not the best pho house in the city--IMO, that honor belongs to Pho 75 on Washington Avenue, a huge room with all the charm of a high school cafeteria but excellent soup, and others would argue that it belongs to Pho Xe Lua in the 900 block of Race Street, a place I should have eaten at by now because "xe lua" apparently means "the train" in Vietnamese and there's a big neon locomotive in its front window. (Actually, a bunch of PhillieGulleteers did organize an outing to Xe Lua a few months back, but it was closed on the night we picked, and we ended up "settling" for Rangoon, around the corner on 9th Street, instead. I believe there is full documentation of our feast that night on the Pennsylvania board.) However, it was convenient for both me and the Harvard classmate I was meeting, a Harvard Medical School professor who was in town for a wedding and had only a little time to spare. (If you're reading this, Ashok, drop me a line.) I see there's a new addition to the lineup next door, not yet open, but it looks like it will be soon: Two blocks west, and I've arrived: "The Greatest Public Market in America" actually traces its history to the market stalls in the middle of High Street that date back to the early 1700s. High Street became so identified with the market in its middle that its name was changed to Market Street in the 1750s. By the mid-19th century, the food vendors who occupied the stalls had all been relocated to a large lot at 12th and Market. When the Philadelphia and Reading Railroad picked this site to build its grand new Philadelphia terminal in 1892, it offered to house the food stalls in space beneath the trainshed, and the Reading Terminal Market was born. The market has had its ups and downs over the years; by the early 1980s, it had few merchants and was in danger of closing. The Reading Company made a major investment that reinvigorated the market, and under its current owner--the Pennsylvania Convention Center Authority--it's gotten even better. (I had hoped to introduce you to Paul Steinke, the general manager of the Reading Terminal Market, who shares with me a strong interest in trains and mass transit--he once served on SEPTA's Citizen Advisory Board and recommended me for an open seat [i didn't get it]--on this trip. But it turns out Paul's on vacation. ) The RTM is a food lover's Nirvana, full of--well, I'll let one of their marketing posters do the talking: It doesn't matter whether you're hungry for something right now, or want fresh food to cook at home later--you can find it here. Remember that soul food place in 30th Street Station I told you about earlier? Here's its original location: It's part of a string of eateries that line the 12th Street side of the market, including Bassett's ice cream, which is quite possibly the best in America: There's also a chocolate maker whose kitchen is right inside the market: and one of whose creations made "Ripley's Believe It or Not!": Jack McDavid, who I mentioned earlier in this blog, has a popular restaurant, the Down Home Diner, in the market as well. And for hoagies, there are few in Philly better than those made by Salumeria: which also has a good selection of cheeses from around the world on the other side of their stand. But Salumeria isn't even the best cheese shop in the market. That honor goes to Downtown Cheese: which is IMO the only cheese shop in town that gives DiBruno's a run for its money. Nothing pre-wrapped here, no siree: Nearby is one of the city's best butchers: The city named Filbert Street, which runs past the market on its south, in Harry Ochs' honor about four years ago. They specialize in dry aged steaks and great smoked sausage: and they'll be happy to send you some. I usually buy fresh sausage from the butcher next door, though. Sausage is what they do best: One of the great things about Philadelphia is that it's just down the road from Lancaster County. Some of the best foodstuffs in the world come from the Amish who settled in the area--the "Pennsylvania Dutch" (they're actually German; the mislabeling comes from what the Germans call themselves). The Pennsylvania Dutch merchants have a section all their own, in the market's northwest corner. They are only open Wednesday through Saturday, which is another reason why the market is mobbed on Saturdays. In peak season, the Kauffmans' farm stand is overflowing with Lancaster County produce; in the off-season, arts, crafts and nonperishable items dominate. But on this Saturday, a sign of what's to come is already on display: (Doesn't that asparagus look great?) This is where the Trivia Contest prize will come from: They sell handcrafts as well as food: As Easter was only one week ago, there are plenty of these Just Born treats from Bethlehem in stock as well. I used to buy bread from this bakery regularly when it had a retail store on Antique Row (Pine Street from 10th to 12th), but haven't bought much from them lately. I should get back in the habit: Market management is big on supporting local farmers and food producers, and between Metropolitan Bakery and the Dutch corner can be found some of the best locally produced foods around. If I weren't so broke, I'd probably have picked up something from the Fair Food Farmstand today... ...like these fabulous locally grown mushrooms. (Actually, when it comes to mushrooms, everything--even the ones you find in the supermarkets--is locally grown. Kennett Square, in Chester County, is "The Mushroom Capital of the World," where most of the mushrooms sold in the U.S. are grown.) And I definitely would have shelled out for some of this: This is Pennsylvania Noble, the best Cheddar I've ever eaten, bar none. It's made by a Swiss emigré who settled in Lancaster County and started a dairy farm, Green Valley Dairy. It's a cave-aged, raw milk cheese (Pennsylvania is one of a handful of states where raw milk and raw milk products may legally be sold anywhere, to anyone) produced by cows fed a diet of grass, and only grass. This is a cheese that changes with the seasons--the winter variety is a little sharper than the summer version--and has plenty of character. It's won plenty of awards, including one of these: and it's worth every penny of the $20 per pound charged. Remember where I said I didn't much care for Brie? Green Valley Dairy's Christiana Brie--the only Brie produced in the United States--may make me reconsider: There's also a limited-edition white Noble. By the way, the proprietor, who comes to the market every Saturday: is also a man on a mission. I hate to leave you in mid-tour like this, but it's now 10:30 a.m. I have to get the Sunday papers, and if I'm to have any hope of getting some pictures of the Italian Market at all, I've got to go now. See you again in a while.

This is what Philadelphia City Hall looked like around Christmas time this past year. Some French lighting firm was contracted to take photos of the building, colorize them and then reproject the colorized pictures back onto the building facades perfectly matched to every minute detail. It looked really beautiful and made you feel like you'd stumbled into Oz or down a rabbit hole. Very cool. ← Thank you for posting this photo, Katie. The Christmastime light show was the coolest thing to happen to City Hall since...well, since it was built. Architectural fashions being what they are, City Hall went unappreciated by Philadelphians for many decades. In fact, in the early 1930s, legendary Philadelphia city planner Edmund Bacon proposed that the entire building be razed except for the tower. By the 1980s, the building had come back into favor, much as the works of local architect Frank Furness did. A massive reconstruction project aimed at reversing decades of neglect and restoring City Hall to its original condition has been under way for some time now. The west facade is completely restored and lit at night now; it looks spectacular. (The photo Katie posted is of the west side of City Hall.)

Good afternoon...from Chester! I had to come out to campus today to shoot a Shakespeare stagecraft workshop in Lathem Hall, home to our communications program, because a community weekly in Ridley Township wants a photo from the event, which included Ridley Middle School students performing scenes from "Macbeth." Unfortunately, I dallied just a bit too much after coming back from the Reading Terminal Market, and missed the 1:17 to Elwyn. So I ended up taking the El to the 109 and got there 50 minutes into the two-hour event. The Ridley middle schoolers were accommodating enough to re-enact the scene for me: In addition to scene acting, there were face painting, swordplay, costumes, videos, and accounting. And food: These hoagies came from Trio Cold Cuts, a deli about a mile from campus on MacDade Boulevard in Ridley Township, just past the interchange with the Blue Route (I-476). There were ham and cheese, roast beef and turkey. The basics--meat, cheese, lettuce, tomato--were already inside, but you had to finish the job yourself from the containers behind the hoagie tray to the left: Hot and sweet peppers, chopped onion, pickles, mayo and oil. For dessert, honey buns and Tastykakes, another local delicacy: The only thing not present were children from Chester, who were also invited to the event. The weather may have had something to do with that. Our string of gorgeous summery days ended this morning, which dawned gray in the gayborhood: and by 1 pm--an hour before the start of the workshop--it was raining buckets. The rain has let up now. In any event, I received extra compensation for working on Saturday: Three hoagies, still wrapped, to take home. On the way to the office to upload these pix and post this, I heard a roar coming from behind the dorms on the right in this photo: Now I understand one more reason why people don't want freeways through their communities. Though the campus itself is tranquil, and there's very little traffic through it, the roar of the traffic on I-95, which runs right behind those dorms, is unstoppable. I still have to upload the rest of the Reading Terminal Market photos, which are on my computer at home. You'll see those later this evening. In the meantime, let's review the standings in the Trivia Quiz and get to our final Trivia Questions for the blog (yes, I'm offering a Weekend Double Edition). I'm surprised more of you didn't respond to yesterday's Trivia Question, it was that easy. But thanks are due to mizducky for bringing back memories of Frank Zappa's outrageousness: From "Billy the Mountain,", off his album Just Another Band from L.A. Yes, that was originally a HoJo's. The architecture remains distinctive enough, I figured this one to be a no-brainer. So I'm surprised I only got seven responses, counting Ellen's. The other correct respondents were ghostrider, suzilightning, annarborfoodie, judiu, Sancerre and Nina C. Now to the first of today's two Trivia Questions, which concerns a distinctively Philadelphian breakfast item--scrapple. (You'll have to wait for the RTM tour to see some.) This is perhaps the ultimate in "mystery meat." As some would have it, it's whatever parts of the pig that remain after the rest is butchered, mixed in with corn meal and spices and cooked into a loaf. To eat it, you slice some off the loaf, pan-fry it, and chow down--maybe with a little maple syrup on top. Here's the question: True or false? Scrapple is so named because it is made from animal scraps. The second Trivia Question is about local geographical features. One of the reasons Philadelphia is such a walker's paradise is because the streets are narrow and the blocks are relatively short. Within Center City, there are only two--excuse me, three--wide streets: Broad, Market and Vine. The first two have been wide from the beginning, as they are the principal axes of the original 1682 city (in the numbering system, Broad Street takes the place of 14th). Astride what should be their intersection is Center Square, on which sits Philadelphia City Hall, the largest and one of the grandest municipal buildings in the country, an elaborate Second Empire pile that took 30 years and millions more than it should have to complete, thanks to the city's legendary political corruption. (I'll try to get a photo for you.) Vine Street was widened in 1955 to provide a quicker connection between the Schuylkill Expressway and the Ben Franklin Bridge; completion of the sunken Vine Street Expressway about a decade ago made the street safe for pedestrians to cross once again. But most city streets are no wider than this one--South 11th, looking north from Bainbridge, one block below South: Yet in a few locations, these narrow streets suddenly become very wide, as South 11th does south of Bainbridge: Today's second Trivia Question is: Why? See you after I finish my grocery shopping when I get back into town.

I'm wearing my Airwalk sneakers today. That helps a lot.

Friday lunch: Widener may have a top-notch school of hospitality management, but when it comes to feeding the students, it's business as usual, institutional style. Like most colleges and universities these days, Widener contracts its dining services to an outside operator. In our case, it's Aramark, which itself merits mention in a Philly food discussion because the managed-services giant is headquartered here--in a handsome Neo-Deco skyscraper right next door to the Reading Terminal (and built in 1984 by the Reading Company, which by then had long since ceased to be a railroad and had become a real-estate developer). When I first visited Cheryl's Southern Style, the owner told me that she would love to get catering business from Widener, which is on the way to being to Chester what Penn is to West Philadelphia. (Aside: Chester's unofficial seal, which you can see on the city's Web site, features Old Main in its center.) But given the terms of Aramark's contract with Widener, the best she could possibly hope for is catering the occasional fraternity or sorority party. If I--or anyone else in my office--wanted to do something different for a meeting or reception, we couldn't. This is a bit of a shame, for it's in ancillary services like catering where a major institution can have a positive impact on a local economy by buying from small local businesses. It also means that in the two-plus months I've been part of the Widener community, I've already become overly familiar with this: This is the standard fruit-and-cheese-platter setup offered by Aramark for catered events, and I haven't yet been to a reception where it's not part of the spread. As a confirmed cheesehead, I can't complain too loudly about this, but a little more variety would be nice every once in a while. (Some offices can afford to splurge a little and add a couple of chafing-dish items to the menu. The spinach pies I had at a going-away reception for one of our top fundraising honchos--a really cute African-American guy, I might add, who was taking a new job at Villanova--were very good.) This particular rendition was in the lobby of the University Center, our student union, because today was the last day of regular semester classes, and thus the day when senior capstone projects are presented across the campus. In this case, it was a Nursing School research poster session: and food and nutrition were among the subjects being researched. But I was here for lunch. I could have gotten something from the Java City grab-and-go in the lobby: or if I was feeling special, I could have eaten in the faculty dining room. But not today--it was closed: and even when it's open, not many faculty or administrative staff use it. Instead, you'll usually find us in the dining hall along with the students. (It's a better bargain. Faculty and staff can purchase discount meal tickets that are good for 10 lunches for $35 from the bursar's office.) So how's the fare? Pretty good, for institutional food--but it's institutional food, which means that in most cases, it's not all that hot. The campus dining hall gets good marks for variety, and Aramark gets bonus points for not turning the entire operation into a multibranded fast-food experience. Instead, they serve what they call "real food on campus": with a menu that seems to back up the slogan. Unfortunately, the menu on display was Thursday's. Today's menu had a Mexican cast to it: And if you weren't in the mood for burritos or chimichangas, you could have grilled cheese sandwiches or Buffalo chicken burgers (which I'm not convinced are real food): or a fresh sandwich from the deli station: or baked ziti: or pizza. The pizza of the day looked tempting: but ultimately, I went with the Mexican fare. As you may have gathered by now, I'm fond of New England clam chowder, and since it was among today's soups, I had some: along with a beef burrito, rice and refried beans. As always, I stopped by the salad bar for a salad as well. (I have yet to try the demonstration cooking station: or the George Foreman grills set up for students to grill their own "panini.") The dining hall itself is large and light-filled but fairly plain-looking, probably a legacy of the military-college years (this part of the student union dates to 1964, when it opened as PMC's student center). The only touches of color are large banners bearing the four parts of the university's mission statement. There were plenty of seats available today--guess the underclassmen went home this weekend: but I spotted a couple of colleagues from the office in a far corner and sat down to eat with them. On the right is Michele Fairley, our graphic designer. I don't see our part-time graphic design assistant all that often and am embarrased to say I've forgotten her name. One of them, Michele Fairley, pointed out to me that the burritos were made with ground beef, not shredded as an authentic one would be. And while the clam chowder tasted of clams, I couldn't detect any actual clams in it, and it was heavy with thickeners. The salad, as usual, was quite good. Edited to add: In Aramark's defense, I will note that it is difficult if not impossible to achieve all of the following: 1) Gourmet quality food, 2) in large quantities, 3) at low cost. And colleges and universities contract out their food service because it's costly to run, even if they make money off the deal through meal plan fees. Letting someone who knows food service run it frees up time and money to focus on the reason colleges and universities exist in the first place.

Friday morning: The podiatrist told me to do stretching exercises, get arch supports and roll my left foot over a frozen can of juice or food to fix the plantar fascitis. And with that, it was off to work on the El, which gives me a good chance to inspect the current reconstruction project and touch on something I raised in a discussion here about Whole Foods Market and organic food. First, the El. A transformer fire at the main interchange station (15th Street on the Market-Frankford Line, City Hall on the Broad Street Line) at 1 this morning screwed up service on the rapid transit lines most of the morning--13th Street station is never this crowded: but the trains were running more or less normally by the time I left the doctor. We riders have something of a love-hate relationship with SEPTA. The current, rather unorthodox ad campaign from which my second teaser photo came gets one thing right--it is part of the fabric of life in the city, and maybe even part of Philly's soul: but it can also be stunningly inept. Trash and smells are a perennial source of complaints, but some stations sparkle every now and then: And while it does a good job of getting you where you want to go more or less when it says it will, it can't seem to manage a major project like the top-to-bottom reconstruction of the city's oldest and busiest rapid transit line. The Market Street el's makeover is taking forever, much to the consternation of West Philadelphia, but signs of progress are now visible, like the rebuilt station at 56th Street. Right next to this station is the second city location for TheFreshGrocer, a small independent chain that might not be in the city at all had Penn not failed to land a Whole Foods Market for its project to add retail amenities to the area around campus. Supplying inner-city residents with reasonably priced, fresh food has recently become a serious policy and planning issue. For many poorer communities abandoned by the supermarket operators--Chester is one such place--landing a new supermarket has become a major goal for local politicians and planners. On my car tour, Marcus Lingenfelter told me how on several occasions Chester officials were on the verge of announcing a deal to bring a supermarket back into the city, only to have the supermarket back out of the deal at the last minute. Some supermarket operators--Supermarkets General (Pathmark) among the best known--have discovered that doing business in inner-city neighborhoods is not a losing proposition. The owner of TheFreshGrocer--which had hitherto done business only in Delaware County prior to agreeing to locate at 40th and Walnut--found out the same thing. This led him to build a brand-new store from the ground up a little further west at 56th and Market, which has done just as well as the store next to Penn's campus. (The circular on the store's Web site shows a third city location, at 54th and Chester Avenue in Southwest Philly. Apparently the operator's sold on doing business in the inner city.) And look what TheFreshGrocer is advertising to El riders and everyone else in West Philly: From visits to the 40th and Walnut store, I know that TheFreshGrocer's merchandise mix and prices are closer to those of the conventional chains than to Whole Foods', though its stores do offer the same prepared-foods razzle-dazzle that has suburbanites in this area going into fainting spells at the mere utterance of the word "Wegmans". What this leads me to conclude is that if the regular supermarket chains aren't making it in poorer city neighborhoods, it may be because they aren't taking their customers seriously. Oh, jeez, I've yakked all the way to 69th Street Terminal! Guess I'd better go catch my bus-- --oops, walked onto the Route 100 platform by mistake-- and head to Widener for lunch.

I realize I've used the phrase "about which more later" several times in this blog without getting to the "more" about which I was to post. I have a few thoughts on convenience stores, including my local one; my neighborhood; and a Hidden Threat to Our Way of Eating that I'd like to share with you, and I hope to be able to get around to all of this before the end of the blog on Sunday. But right now, I'd like to share with you what I did for dinner on Thursday night. Partner's boyfriend was in the apartment when I got home from another stroll around the neighborhood, snapping pictures (which you will see soon), and he said to me, "I'd like some mini-burgers with onions and peppers fried up in there, and that hot cheese you've got down there, and oregano, and garlic, and you can put them on those dinner rolls you have left over." Sliders! Like at White Castle, which has lamentably departed the Greater Philadelphia market. It sounded like a great idea to me--well, everything but the oregano part--and it would get rid of the dinner rolls left over from last Sunday's dinner. So I got to work. I thawed and broke up about a half pound of ground sirloin and added to it Worcestershire sauce, garlic powder, dehydrated minced onion and seasoned salt: Then I formed a semi-thick patty and placed it between two sheets of plastic wrap. Then I used a trick I learned from Alton Brown's Food Network show Good Eats: I placed a metal pie pan on top of this and pounded it with the pestle from my spice grinder. The result? A beautifully thin patty: which I then folded over onto itself, tapped it lightly with the pie pan assembly to get it to hold together, and cut it into six squares that matched the dimensions of the rolls. I then took an onion: Okay, so it's a Texas 1015. So sue me. It was the only onion I had on hand. I'll remedy this problem tomorrow. chopped it into a fine dice: and put it into a skillet sprayed with cooking spray over medium heat. Then the burger patties went on top. You will note that I did not bother to punch out holes in them. Here I think I departed from White Castle procedure. I turned them over: and while they finished cooking, dressed the "buns". I topped the patties with cheese slices: and slid them onto buns (mine are the ones without relish). Voilà! Just like White Castle--well, almost. I'm sure they would never serve their burgers with Pepper Jack. And they went down real easy. On to Friday, which I will cover once I'm back from Pure (see Wednesday above). I skipped happy hour tonight, because Bump--a most un-Philadelphia-like gay bar a block west of me, which has the most popular Friday happy hour going these days--was a total zoo and I didn't feel like braving the crowd for a $3 "martini" with only about 15 minutes to go before the prices went up. But I'm feeling pretty happy nonetheless: The editor of the Daily Times called me to say he wanted to use the idea I pitched him about having two Widener professors square off on the Op-Ed page over casino gambling in Chester. The debate will run in a special section the paper is running the Sunday before hearings on the casino license for Harrah's Chester Downs Casino and Racetrack are to be held at Drexel University in Philadelphia. That's my first successful pitch as a PR person for Widener.