MarketStEl

Whaddaya mean "round trip"? I could always route my journey home from Chester via 69th Street Terminal instead. Both of the bus routes that serve the Widener campus originate there.

*"...where the Lowells talk only to Cabots, and the Cabots talk only to God." It took me a while to adjust to the New England terms for "pop" (what Midwesterners call "soda") and "milkshake", so I feel for you, especially as you self-consciously leave off the "h" in "with" much as Bostonians drop the "r's" in "Harvard" or "car" and stick them on the end of "idea". You'll get used to it. Another term for you to note is "wooder ice." In print, the term is written "water ice." You may have called this "Italian ice" or "slush." Something else you will encounter around here that is truly unique to the region is something called "Lebanon bologna." This is either a slightly spicy or a slightly sweet beef sausage closer to salami or summer sausage in appearance than to regular bologna. Like shoo fly pie, it's a Pennsylvania Dutch specialty (named for the Lancaster County community where I believe it originated). You should try it if you have the opportunity. A non-food local term that you should know is "MAC." This is what many Philadelphians still call ATMs. For many years, all (or nearly all) of the ATMs in this region were on this network ("MAC" = "Money Access Center"), which was owned by the largest locally based bank at the time. If someone says to you, "You can get money out of the MAC machine over there," they're referring to the nearby ATM. As the MAC network is no more, though, this usage is dying out.

Dangerous pizza? Wow, what a concept! Anyway, as it looks like the cash flow is about to improve significantly, in a month or two, I would be willing to see if Amare Solomon's widow might be game to host a dinner.

FWIW, the moderately crappy day I had Tuesday turned out not to be so crappy after all... The managing editor at the resume service reinstated me into the work queue after I explained why I "appeared not to care when I finished a request" to an administrative staffer who called me, and the editor at the Inquirer told me that I should just remember to give a heads-up if I was going to have a problem turning something in (I lost it a bit after she called wondering where my essay was; blowing a deadline in this business is just below outright fabrication on the list of mortal sins). So I'm munching on Cheese Nips as I work on more resumes and take a break by putzing around here. The new job starts Monday. Things aren't so crappy after all. We now return you to the continuing crisis already in progress.

Still unemployed . I have done a lot of updating on my resume, and it just needs a little more editing. ← If you think professional help would be worthwhile, and can afford what they charge, I might be able to assist if you ask for me. --Sandy, yes, that's my steady freelance gig

Okay, my resolution checklist: In 2006, I will eat ethnic dishes I've never tried before. Not yet. Check back with me in another two months or so. I will make real dinner rolls--sayonara, Doughboy!--and real bread. I haven't even made Pillsbury dinner rolls so far this year! I will find either permanent employment, or more freelance gigs, or both--and maybe even my voice as a food writer! Done! Well, except for that part about finding my voice as a food writer. But the permanent employment part's taken care of as of Monday, and I've got a steady freelance job on the side. I will learn more about wine, now that Jonathan Newman's made it more affordable to do so. I continue to scope the Chairman's Selections at my neighborhood State Store superstore regularly, and have found some really delish bottles. But I still find it hard to identify all the various fruits people say wine tastes like--nothing has stood out like that lemony flavor in the Las Brisas white I bought last summer. I will teach myself how to prepare great meals that my diabetic roommate can enjoy. Still on the to-do list, as is... I will read Steven Shaw's book, and maybe even subscribe to Cook's Illustrated. This is the year I will try all those unusual cheeses I see at DiBruno's every time I visit. Add Salumeria and Downtown Cheese in the Reading Terminal Market to this list just for variety's sake. So far, the only unusual cheese I've tried this year is Camembert, and that's "unusual" only because I rarely buy it. I will taste a little bit of everything the great buffet of life has to offer. Except deep sea diving--I can't even stay afloat. Well, I did go see "Brokeback Mountain" in a theater, the first time I've been out to the movies in nearly a year, but I don't think this qualifies. I will use more fresh ingredients and locally produced foods this year. Working on this still. I will give myself permission to override my innate impulse towards frugality every now and then in order to splurge on really good food and ingredients. So far this year: Not yet. I have much to be thankful for, including good health and good friends. I resolve to have more of the latter over for dinner, or to dine out with them more often. No invitations issued yet. Dining out more awaits more pay. We don't go out together much anymore. I'm of two minds about fixing this, but I'll continue to offer him the chance to accompany me to a good restaurant meal when I have the opportunity to write about a place to eat. See above. My kids? What kids? I've got my hands full with my partner, two cats, a roommate and a cast of friends, acquaintances and hangers-on. Feeding them is challenge enough. This hasn't changed either.

"Whizmush from Geno's"? Are you really in New York, or 90 miles further south on I-95? If the latter, there are plenty of people on the Pennsylvania board willing to help you keep the other resolution of yours I've quoted above.

I know, hard to get excited about, but if it's the same as the chicken ramen soup in Philly it's really good... ← $14 for chicken ramen noodle soup good? Those had better be some damn good ramen noodles.

Like any literary device, irony becomes tiresome when overused. I think quotes work just fine for this purpose, but the Per Se menu has abused the custom, and now it's just a joke. ← So here: Ces-ci n'est pas haricots verts? Ceci n'est pas sauce bordelaise aussi?

This opens up a philsophical Pandora's box that I will keep shut, except to agree that it's one thing to say that you should quit smoking because it's good for your health and another to all but outlaw the use of a legal substance in public. I see nothing wrong with individual businesses and companies choosing to adopt smoke-free environment policies, though. It's good for their employees' and patrons' health. Frankly, I'm willing to risk Alzheimer's and all of the various indignities and infirmities that come with old age simply to enjoy the privilege of reaching it. And my chances of doing so are much greater with a pot belly than they are with destroyed lungs.

Never having had a single bite of converted rice, I'd always wondered what happened during the conversion. Now I guess I know. I also guess I should consider it an insult to the race that the leading brand of the stuff bears the image of a fictitious black "uncle." But I still have one unanswered question: Are "converted" and "parboiled" rice identical?

Having already revealed my membership in that small but obnoxious fraternity, I will note that the other major drug I quit taking--alcohol, in similar fashion--I am using again, though not quite in the quantities I was when the therapist who was treating me for depression suggested I go off the depressant I was taking before seeing whether I needed to go on an antidepressant. (Being a Penn psychiatrist, he was big on cognitive therapy, which was invented there. As it turned out, it worked fine enough for me. I never went on antidepressants. I realize that by knocking back a few on a periodic basis, I am tempting fate, but so far, I've managed to avoid relapse.) But while we're talking drugs and quitting them, we pause for a different opinion on the subject, expressed in the landing of a fire stairwell at the Community College of Philadelphia: ObFood: Of course, using this substance brings with it its own set of eating disorders and weight-gain issues.

I've seen a similar term -- "Disneyfication" -- in print before. Having seen the interim posts between the time I started this reply and now, I understand the part about nomenclature getting under your skin. Thomas Keller didn't call his New York restaurant "The French Laundry," so Starr giving the same name to his New York and Philly outposts smacks of chainitis. I'll bet you also cringe whenever you hear someone use the word "branding." But I will use it here anyway, for that is exactly what Starr is doing here. Morimoto NYC and Morimoto Philly may be two different animals in many respects, but both are trading off the reputation of the "brand" Masaharu Morimoto. Starr is evidently also trying to turn Buddakan (which, if I'm not mistaken, first entered American English when pop/rock/jazz superstars played the Tokyo concert hall of the same name; as Starr was a rock concert promoter before he was a restaurateur, it may be more appropriate than all of us could imagine that his second hit restaurant bore this name) into a brand as well. Disneyfication/Disneyization? Perhaps, as Starr indeed sells fantasies to his diners. But it's camp fantasy in most cases, a far cry from the Disney version.

Is it really that much better than WD-40? (ducks to avoid being hit by a pile of brickbats) um, thanks for the clarification. Actually, I chose the wrong analogy for my Starr comparison from my own perspective. Or maybe not. I think Kenny G is devoid of real talent, but I do listen to "smooth jazz" a lot. However, that's mainly because (1) I never really cottoned to hip-hop (2) Philadelphia's one real jazz radio station plays classical music from 6 am to 6 pm and has absolutely crappy signal reception in Center City and (3) I don't necessarily feel like engaging with a classic like Coltrane's "A Love Supreme" all the time; sometimes I would rather have background music to which I can put my brain in park or use it for some other pursuit. Maybe the analogy is more apt than I thought. Hmmmm...Stephen Starr as the culinary equivalent of smooth jazz?

Probably for the same reasons people rant about "smooth jazz." But these people probably have encountered Kenny G at some point.

Philadining elaborated on the point I was trying to make quite nicely, but I see in retrospect that I was replying to a post at one remove. I should have tacked my comments directly onto sneakereater's.

Good luck to all three of you. I harbor no illusions that it will be easy for you to kick this habit. I quit about 16 years ago just like that and never looked back, but I gained 45 pounds in my first smoke-free year. Those pounds remain part of me to this day. I would still not recommend smoking as a method for preventing weight gain, though.

Depending on the level of crappiness, in increasing order: Half a pound of Cheddar or whatever cheese is already open. A bag of chips. The 20-ounce Big Bag of Utz, preferably, with onion dip. The entire contents of the fridge. Today is in the middle of the crappiness scale. I'm going to fix pork chops for dinner.

Though I do note that there is a set of forums devoted to beverages on eG, and one of its subforums is devoted to cocktails. I'm sure that some of the people who post there might be interested in the non-food aspects of these places, though maybe not the social angle that looks like it will loom large with these two. However, can we be that dismissive of the non-food aspects? After all, food is not just about fuel, nourishment and sustenance. It is also in most cases a social lubricant or bond. In most cases, when we dine out, we are not "only here for the food," though we would not be there if the food weren't good.

I've posted about this before...but back when I was in college there was a woman from a wealthy Iranian family in one of my classes. After class, we were eating lunch and she saw someone eating a banana and commented that she had never eaten a banana with her hands before she came to America. She said in her home in Iran bananas were always served on a plate and were eaten using a knife and fork. Her parents said it was beneath their status/class to eat any kind of food with their hands. ← Aww ... even asparagus dipped in egg yolks? I grossed Mr. FFB-out with this when we were dating early on -- the asparagus with the fingers thing. He was HORRIFIED, but far too polite to say anything to me about it (and far too wise to say anything for a long, long time thereafter ). The man eats bacon with his fork, still! ← This particular sub-topic reminds me of a letter to Judith Martin, the manners maven based at The Washington Post, that was published in her first collection of columns, Miss Manners' Guide to Excruciatingly Correct Behavior. My rough recollection (not having the book handy and not wanting to unbury it right now) was that the exchange went like this: Dear Miss Manners: What is the proper way to eat a potato chip? Gentle Reader: With a knife and fork. A fruit knife and an oyster fork, to be specific. Good Lord, Miss Manners understands the need to educate the public on the finer points of etiquette, but anyone who doesn't have the common sense to grab a handful of potato chips and stuff it in his mouth is beyond her help. I don't have any relationship-enders to add to this thread, but I do have one of those moments with a friend that caused me to re-evaluate the friendship. It was my freshman year at Harvard. I had volunteered for the Undergraduate Admissions Committee, which helps the admissions office show students around the campus and the city. I had agreed to host Kansas Citians visiting the school, knowing full well that there was a good chance I'd end up escorting someone I knew from Pem-Day, Sunset Hill or Grace and Holy Trinity Cathedral (Episcopal), where I sang in the choir. Sure enough, I got a PCD Class of '77 student as one of my first visitors. By this time, I had already found out where the No Name restauarant was (it's the hole in the wall on Fish Pier with no name) and eaten there, sampled just about every restaurant Harvard Square had to offer (hot dog fans note: one of them at the time was a Zum Zum), and in general had a great time exploring the city and doing everything but studying. This fellow was a coddled sort and somewhat timid. On one day of his visit, I offered to drive him around the area and take him to any restaurant he wanted, and went into descriptions of several. He asked me for a McDonald's. He was afraid to try anything unfamiliar. I told him I didn't know where any McDonald's were in or near Watertown (through which we were passing when he dropped the bombshell, and it's true -- I didn't), and we ended up eating at a Howard Johnson's over the Mass. Pike in Newton. I made no effort to follow up on his visit, and he ended up attending some other school.

Was one of his favorite dishes Green Bean Casserole?

Since I was AWOL from the Pizza Club on most of its 2005 outings, I'd like to start off with a suggestion for 2006: The "Best of Philly Review Tour." This idea came to me while strolling down Chestnut Street towards the CityPaper offices. Specifically, it hit me as I passed Apollo, whose three Philadelphia magazine "Best of Philly" honors for pizza (1991, 1992 and 1998, IIRC) were proudly displayed by the front door. It occurred to me at that point that PhillyMag has probably bestowed these coveted honors on scads of pizzerias and restaurants serving pizza over the decades. It also occurred to me that some of these past laurels may no longer be deserved due to changes in management, personnel or recipes. It further occurred to me that some of these past laurels may not even have been deserved when they were bestowed--but as with Pat's for cheesesteaks, it would have gotten boring for the Philadelphia editors to give the pizza prize to Tacconelli's year after year after year after year after... So who better to pass judgement on the validity of all those dusty and still-gleaming "Best of Philly" pizza prizes than the seasoned palates of the Pizza Club? I'll start this off, if anyone's game, with a visit to two award-winners in Center City: the aforementioned Apollo and NYPD Pizza (2005 "Best of Philly" winner for Philadelphia County; that year, pizza was one of the categories in which multiple awards--one for each of the five Southeastern Pennsylvania counties--were handed out). Date: The Saturday after I get my first paycheck from Widener. Watch this space for more details. It cannot be any later than March 4. Comments: Now being entertained.

Samuelsson was about 2 years ago... ← After Aquavit, IIRC. And to further tie things together: Like Morimoto, Stephen Starr was behind it. Starr had hired Samuelsson to be the executive chef at his 10th restaurant (No. 9 on the list of those still open), Washington Square. There was much ballyhoo in the local press about Samuelsson's imminent arrival and the "global street food" menu. Once he was here, things went south pretty quickly. I don't remember all the details, but the menu at Washington Square drew raspberries from local critics and there was some sort of dispute or falling out between Starr and Samuelsson, or something, but the end result was that within a couple of months of Washington Square's opening, Samuelsson was on his way back to New York.

In fact, I received a pm from an eGer with one foot planted in Philadelphia and the other in New York who pointed out to me that there is a reverse of the phenomenon I described in Post #2. It too is worth exploring. It runs like this: 1) Talented New York chef garners kudos from the locals and (especially) the local press for innovative fare or an innovative restaurant. 2) Said chef, currently a hired gun at someone else's establishment, gets a swelled head or the itch to see if he is really all the critics say he is, and decides it's time to open a restaurant of his own. The problem is, he can't afford to do it in New York, at least not yet. 3) A restaurateur in another city either hears of the rising chef's plight or sees an opportunity to make a splash in that city's dining scene by bringing in the talented New Yorker to run the show at a new establishment created around the chef. (Or the chef himself decides to strike out on his own, finding a suitable location in another city.) This is the equivalent of the out-of-town tryout that Broadway musicals used to receive. 4) The restaurant opens, and...here the parallel breaks down. This has happened at least twice in Philadelphia, once with Masaharu Morimoto after "Iron Chef" was permanently affixed to his name, and once with Marcus Samuelsson, the Eritrean Swede. Morimoto has been warmly received in the City of Brotherly Love, but Samuelsson's "global street food" ended up getting thrown back in his face, which is probably a justifiable reaction on the part of diners in a city where they know street food, even if much of it is served in storefronts. I'm not sure I can draw any logical conclusion from this, except to say that it does suggest, if not prove, that there are other US cities with culinary specialties that New Yorkers have not mastered, and if a New Yorker attempts to try to outdo the locals at their own game, it may end up turning out badly. That, BTW, may explain the reaction I have to Bobby Flay. Then again, it may just be Bobby Flay.

Recall that I am a native of said state, Doc. There are actually two versions of how Missouri got its nickname. Most people are familiar with the positive version, perhaps most famously expressed by the state's only President, Harry S Truman, in his 1948 campaign when he used it as a declaration of defiant skepticism. There is a negative version, too, which is (understandably) far less well known. It has something to do with the denseness of some of the state's inhabitants. --Sandy, eternally grateful for not having been born in or near the Bootheel