Guide to Philadelphia, USA

Philadelphia is used to being in the spotlight. The birthplace of American independence, it was America’s first capital until Washington, DC, claimed that honor in 1800. And the Big Apple, 100 miles up the northeast coast, has been shining ever since. But Philadelphia is now taking center stage. The city won more honors than any other city in the country at his 2023 James Beard Foundation Awards, America’s “Oscars of food.”

Along Philadelphia’s grand, gallery-lined Benjamin Franklin Parkway Boulevard, countless flags fly to celebrate the many international communities represented in the city’s neighborhoods. These days, many of these residents are New Yorkers who are moving here in droves. “In New York, a lot of people are trying to be something they’re not,” says local chef Peter McAndrews, coming out of the kitchen and shaking my hand. “Philadelphia is a place where you can feel comfortable. It’s a place where you get to know who you really are.”

My own quest for self-knowledge begins with lunch at his sandwich shop, Paesano’s, in South Philadelphia. It has a timeless look, with black-and-white photos on the walls and a chalkboard menu. To prove it, this city really loves its sandwiches. The best known is Philadelphia Cheese Steak. A hoagie roll (sub) stuffed with sliced ​​beefsteak and melted cheese is not on the menu here. People from this region tend to prefer the “arista” stuffed with roast suckling pig, broccoli rabe, “long hot” peppers, and provolone he cheese.

“I add anchovies to the sauce, just like the Romans did,” says Peter. His menu is full of Italian flavors and reflects the traditions of the community, and the restaurant’s name reflects the area’s close-knit atmosphere (‘paesano(means “compatriots”). Immigrants from Abruzzo and Sicily established an outdoor Italian market here on South 9th Street in his 1880s. Also, many of the nearby businesses, like Di Bruno Bros Deli, are owned by his third or fourth generation of Italians. There are Jewish stores and Asian supermarkets, a legacy of later waves of immigration. “This region brings together many different ethnic groups and cultures,” says Peter. “We are family.”

As I stepped outside, I was struck by the contrast between this neighborhood and the downtown grid of streets I had previously visited, its towering glass skyscrapers, imposing civic buildings, and wide, uncrowded sidewalks. Here, sweet-smelling smoke from kettle corn (sweet popcorn) vendors wafts like contrails over a busy market. Pass by stalls stacked with rosy apples and glistening eggplants and watch nonnas choose the best for their baskets. As you head south, the storefront changes and the hand-painted signage switches from Italian to Spanish. Instead of olive oil and balsamic vinegar, the windows are decorated with frilly dresses for communions and communions. quinceañera — A Latin American party traditionally held when a girl turns 15.

power of food

Cristina Martinez, owner of South Ninth Street restaurant Casa Mexico, says from her seat that every meal we eat together is a celebration of sorts. “When we get together and eat, we unite our energy,” she says with a smile. “My family inspires everything I cook.” Spread out before us on one of the brightly colored tables are some of her favorites – homemade tortilla chips and guacamole; chicken served with peanuts mole sauce. Ceramic plates like the ones she used to cook are piled casually on the floor, and Mexican flag bunting hangs from the ceiling.

As Christina’s story shows, food can also be political. After entering the United States illegally, she sold tacos out of a pushcart. This business evolved into her first restaurant, South Philadelphia Barbacoa.Its success – featured in the Netflix series chef’s table — gave Christina a platform to speak out on immigration issues. She went on to help found The People’s Kitchen, which provides free, nutritious meals to Philadelphians living in food poverty.

Nowhere is Philadelphia’s melting pot of culture more evident than at Reading Terminal Market. In the heart of the Center City neighborhood, this is the United Nations of food. The 75 food stalls are arranged in a grid like a city. The next morning, as I wandered the aisles in search of breakfast, I found a cacophony of neon signs vying for my attention, everything from Cantonese to Filipino fusion, Georgian bread to Indian curry. The busiest counter is at Dutch Eating Place, a diner tucked away at the back of the hall. The staff here wears traditional Pennsylvania Dutch attire: simple shirts for the men and long dresses and modest white hats for the women. They belong to a conservative Christian community in Lancaster County, about 110 miles west of Philadelphia.

When I asked proprietor Javan Esh to explain the difference between Pennsylvania Dutch and Amish, he came up with an old food idiom. “Tomatoes, tomatoes,” he says with a boyish smile. Both are centered around faith and family. Both avoid electric and modern vehicles. “You can only go so far in a horse-drawn carriage,” says Javan, who has the healthy glow of someone who spends a lot of time outside.

“Although it is restrictive, it acts as a safety net and is a way to preserve and protect our culture.” Javan welcomes respectful questions from curious diners like me . “It’s important to share our culture with our customers,” he says. “We’re committed to bringing this country to the city and giving people an authentic experience.” Carbohydrate-rich dishes are prepared using fresh, seasonal produce and handcrafted to bring people to the table. It is provided in portions intended to nourish you. After eating a pile of eggs and rye toast, Javan asked me to try some apple dumplings. Apple dumplings are whole baked fruit wrapped in pastry and served with rich cream. Philadelphia has long been known for its high-quality dairy products, which is why Kraft imprinted the city’s name on its cream cheese.

As you walk west, Center City’s skyscraper skyline gives way to the massive brownstone of Rittenhouse Square. Named for the beautiful park in its center, this area is one of Philadelphia’s most exclusive neighborhoods. It comes alive in the spring as people gather for picnics and outdoor tables spill out onto the sidewalks. Now that I have a reservation at Her Place Supper Club, I’m happy to avoid them.

Although it is a small shop, it has a great reputation. “This is a living room aesthetic,” says chef-owner Amanda Schulman as she prepares food in the open kitchen. “We want our guests to feel like they’re at home.” Vintage prints, like those you’d find in a Parisian bistro or a Milanese bar, hang on the walls. “Our cuisine is French-Italian, which reminds me of my Jewish upbringing,” Amanda says. “But in reality, we make exactly what we like. Our menu is determined by the conversations we have with each other and our producers.”

This conversation began more than a decade ago when Amanda was a local student and started hosting elaborate dinner parties for her friends. “Everyone eating the same thing at the same time creates community,” she says, holding out a plate of tortellini loaded with spinach and robiola cheese for me to try. “You can take risks in Philadelphia and people are receptive. Our diners love supporting people who are trying something new.”

One of Philadelphia’s most well-known areas for pushing the limits is South Street, a 10-minute taxi ride away. The district spans about 14 blocks, and as we strolled through several blocks, we found plenty of evidence of the alternative scene, including the work of local mosaic artist Isaiah Her Zagar. It spreads like a vine among stores selling everything from fetish wear to bongs. In the midst of all this is his Tattooed Mom. It’s part bar, part club, and part inclusive creative space. “If we’re doing our job right, everyone should feel at home here,” says Robert Perry, who wears cool thick-rimmed glasses and has slicked-back gray hair. He will only admit ownership if pursued. “I have the key to the door, but you are creating this space,” he insists.

Robert means this literally. His second-floor room at TMom’s is decorated with 25 years of his stickers and graffiti, and everyone who’s ever party there seems to have left their mark. Downstairs is a gorgeous, eclectic space with a look that Robert describes as “sour granny.”

Dodgem cars sit alongside palatial wingback armchairs, and an octopus chandelier hangs from the ceiling. The moody lighting makes it look like a stage set for a prank. Events like “Drag Brunch” showcase local performers here, and even the cocktail list has changed to a theatrical one. Picretini (vodka and pickle her juice) comes in a bottle with a label and a lid, and vodka and cranberries are poured into a martini with candy floss. Glass that makes Cosmo Cloud. “The best thing about Philadelphia is that there are so many small worlds,” Robert said, sliding me a drink across the bar. “Our city is a neighborhood city.”

There is one more place I would like to visit. At age 11, West was in Philadelphia, where he first captured my imagination whenever I heard Will Smith’s The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air rap about “chill out, max, relax, all cool.” The beginning of each episode. That atmosphere still remains today. The wide, quiet streets are lined with houses with porches and occasional trams. Since the 1990s, the district has gained new fame. Honeysuckle Provisions, an African-centric grocery store and cafe, opened last year and was almost immediately named one of the best new restaurants in the United States by Gourmet’s website Eater.

Chef couple Omar Tate and Sybil St. Ord-Tate are on a mission to celebrate Black culinary traditions and bring the best produce grown by Black farmers to West Philadelphia. “We want food to be intentional and relatable,” says Sybil, who has a plant tattoo on her forearm and a big smile. “We’re not experts on Black history, but we teach people what we grew up with and help build connections between cultures.” Both have distinct food memories on their menus. Masu. Sybil offered spiced bread. Chan Chanmu, a traditional street food from her native Haiti, made from ground corn and peanut powder. Meanwhile, Omar’s choice of the “Dollar” hoagie is a love letter to Philadelphia’s great sandwiches.

Sybil and Omar are both instinctive innovators, but when it comes to food, they understand the power of nostalgia and ritual. The fried fish hoagie is only available on Fridays, and people come from all over the city for it. I wait for my table at his one of her three small tables. My eyes wander over the wooden carved heads and shelves lined with books. food power politics. My sandwich has arrived. The homemade seeded roll was loaded with crispy fried Creole whiting, and a large dollop of lemon and herb remoulade spilled onto my hands. Lunch rarely makes me uncomfortable or happy. In a city that prides itself on inclusiveness and authenticity, it’s the perfect final meal.