A Philadelphia Night Out

When we went to Han Dynasty for my birthday, CPM and I both were quite taken with the idea of getting a punch bowl for the table, and were rather surprised by the lack of recommendation our server gave us on that front...basically they told us not to do it, so we didn't. But the idea of drinking some kind of alcoholic beverage out of a punch bowl was not to float away on the river of our lives like a loose stick from a low hanging tree. Nope. CPM and I made an alternative plan. I knew that the scorpion bowl at Sampan was pretty delightful and so I suggested we go there, which is just what we did. We originally thought we'd just wing it and sit at the bar, but mid-day Friday we corresponded and decided that a reservation was probably not the worst idea...which was entirely true, as the bar was pretty solidly packed when we got there around 7:30. We were seated and quite enjoyed perusing the menu. Though I've been to Sampan a few times, it had been quite a bit of time, so many of the things of the menu appealed. In the end CPM and I chose a nice array of plates to share. For example, these 'wonton crab tacos,' which came with avocado, cilantro and pickled shallot. The crab salad element was good in portion size and delicious.

We also ordered the hamachi ceviche, which really is just a really delightful spoonful of magic. The dish usually comes three spoons to a plate, but the server suggested we add a fourth so there would be no bloodshed. A good call indeed.

These were Korean fried chicken skewers. Succulent. Hot. So GOOD.

We also ordered the "Philly Cheese Steak," which you can see in the far left corner...honestly this was the dish that was the least successful or pleasing. I'd give it a pass.

Our server did at first suggest that we didn't need a punch bowl in our lives...but after much deliberation, we chose to have one anyway.

Kobe beef skewers were unbelievably tender and while they had a bit of sauce/external flavor, the meat itself was pretty well and good magic on its own.

Do not doubt us, Sampan server, we will order and finish a punch bowl. Don't you worry about us none.

After that it was still relatively early in the evening, so we walked west in Center City. I was quite shocked to see that a.bar, which I tried to go to with Huckleberry back in the summer, was pretty much entirely empty. So we went on in there and enjoyed two delightful cocktails that will go unnamed because I can't seem to find the drink menu on the establishment's website. They also had a pretty neat-o looking oyster bar option. While we only had a drink, I would definitely suggest to those staying in the Philly area that they check this place out far more than I'll be able to do in my dwindling days in the city.

We then made a few more stops in our night, including a cocktail at Tank Bar and getting to McCrossen's just in time to see the Eagles not quite make it through the playoffs. A lovely evening with a fun friend. I liked that we balanced our evening so that we stopped in at a variety of locations, some more familiar than others. The night was, of course, a late one. And I could never do that sort of thing with any true frequency, but such evenings always remind me of just how much of Philadelphia is still a mystery to me, even after six years.

New Jersey Pho

About two weekends ago I went to New Jersey to seek out shoes for Cuz K.'s wedding. I meant to go to a DSW not so terribly far from Philly on the Jersey side but my phone got a bit confused and told me to drive to a completely different location. In the end I found myself shoes indeed I did. Then I decided that I was hungry and that I might as well go on a mini pho adventure. There were about five different pho restaurants within five miles of the shoe place and so I decided rather randomly to check out Pho Eden, which was located in an incredibly non-descript strip mall at not the busiest of intersections. Inside it was cute, if spare. Fewer tables than some of the pho spots in Philly. I got a booth to myself and quickly ordered a hot coffee with condensed milk, which came in a different format than I am accustomed to seeing: already brewed and with no need to pour your own hot water over the grounds. Still good, but I liked that hot water element because you can keep your drink hotter for longer. While sipping my coffee I continued to get into Margaret Atwood's newest nove. 

For my meal I chose to try their grilled pork rolls in addition to pho with steak and fatty brisket.

The rolls were okay, not not transformative or mind melting like those I've enjoyed in South Philly.

The pho was equally good in meeting my basic desire for a rich and hot beef noodle soup, though not quite as special as the South Philly spot I've been going to the most over time. I was glad to check it out and if you happen to be in that area of New Jersey, it's worth stopping by, but I wouldn't say it would be worth going out of your way to visit.

Road Trip Lunch c/o Penn Alps

What is it about certain places? How do they manage to lodge themselves into our minds as meaningful, as beautiful, as timeless? And how often can those places ever measure up to whatever strange hold they've had on a person's brain? I ask these questions because when I started planning my drive to Columbus in order to celebrate Cuz K.'s engagement I did not struggle very much in making the counterintuitive decision to drive south before west and north. This is not the first time that I have driven to Ohio and made a stop at Penn Alps. The first was pretty much three years ago. I drove to Ohio on the way to go down to Tennessee to be with my parents for became my mother's second and last extended stay in a hospital. That was the drive that began a reality that ended with my mother's death less than a month later. When I was driving there and while I was actually eating and walking around Penn Alps and its rather remote Grantsville, MD location, however, it was not entirely apparent that that was the circumstance. I haven't actually re-read what I wrote about the last visit. I know that I was generally reflecting on the same ideas of place and time and nostalgia. And that I was non-plussed by the change to the entrance and to the gift shop, both of which were expanded and made slightly less quirky and more in line with the 'tourists stop here and we sell them things' vibe that I don't totally love. The funny thing is that as I knew I was going to stop at Penn Alps, I also started thinking about another location that I'd been to a few times in my youth that strangely stuck with me in terms of shaping some element of something that I care about. It seems. Hancock, Maryland is a second example of a place where I never spent much time, but that I visited a few different times throughout some formative time in my life.

I took no photographic evidence of my last minute decision to peel off the highway and drive down Hancock's main strip. I hadn't actually been sure that the place in my memories was Hancock, but when I saw the roof of and sign of the orchard/farm market literally just off the highway, I was pretty sure it was a place I had been. I don't know when. As a four year old. As an eight year old. As a nine year old. As a 12 year old. I simply don't know if I've been to that town three times or ten. At least three, that is for sure. In any case. It was a surreal thing driving down Hancock's Main Street and having at first a moment of feeling like I was totally mistaken. If it wasn't that apple/farm building market thing, then what town was it? I was driving the same route that my mother would often take when we drove to Ohio, but I had never remembered any of the roads. It's a strange thing to see things you've already seen but not entirely on purpose or realizing you are about to do so. Hancock is like that. I remember the market. I remembered a diner that I kept thinking was going to be just a little bit farther, and then I started to think that it didn't exist, and then it suddenly appeared and was exactly as I thought it would be. I remembered a General/Discount store with some weird mix of cheap toys and groceries and asundry things. The kind of place where there really is dust on some of the merchandise. I remembered going entirely through the town and turning right and going who knows how far to a place to park in order to then hike a while to get to a cabin with my parents that was along the Appalachian Trail.

So this town is just a location I somehow saw a number of times up until the time I was about 13. It is 17 years later and I am still drawn to it. And why? It's just a pretty small town with no huge anything that I could tell. Just strangely fragmented memories of being there. Being struck by the small town-ness of it. Struck by perhaps the run-down-ness of some of the people I saw. I don't know and I've just gone on a considerable tangent when my main point is that I revisited an entirely different place that I totally associate with driving trips with my mother for the first time since she died. That may not be my main point, but it certainly is part of the fabric of the situation.

In any case. I got to Penn Alps around 1 after hitting just terrible traffic on 95 south. I went directly to the hostess stand (past the still weird-to-me cashier plaza) to get a table. I was seated in an area I'm not sure I'd been to before. Though there is an especially cobwebbed part of my mind that feels like the answer is yes, and there was hot chocolate with whipped cream involved. But I could be wrong. In any case, I knew that my meal the last time hadn't been a runaway success so I tried to choose more carefully this time around. I went with a sweet tea that totally won. And enjoyed taking a look at the place mat - or should I say place map? With its nicely illustrated landmarks and routes as well as a pretty interesting slogan...the photographic evidence of which is only on my phone. Oh man it was funny, perhaps in part because of its spacing. It went:

Come once & see what we 

have yet, still

That shit is deep. 

More thinking led to a far better choice in meal. Though I don't usually order Reubens (in large part because the sandwich reminds me of my ex-boyfriend's eating tendencies), this seemed like the place to get even more over something that is so far in the past as to be the kind of thing that shouldn't influence my eating habits. It wasn't the thickest of sandwiches, but the country style bread (I requested non-rye b/c that is just the truth of my preferences) really did add something to the mix. And what I believe was truly homemade sauerkraut was absolutely not your standard stuff. It was deep and dark in taste and not crunchy, which to me suggests it really did ferment and pick up a lot of flavor before landing in my sandwich. I really don't know enough about corned beef to say how it ranked, but I will say it was thicker than some of the Reuben sandwiches I've seen in my time. I also ordered a side of mashed potatoes and gravy even though the sandwich came with homemade potato chips that I shamefully ignored. The potatoes had some nice lumps that suggested being made not out of a box. And I liked the gravy regardless of its providence. Providence? Provenance?

And then it was time to take a stroll through Spruce Forest. I, again, somehow found myself too shy to actually go into any of the workshops. Honestly I think as a kid I never did go inside. I just loved all the little cottages and the idea of creation happening within.

In this instance even if I wanted to go in I couldn't "due to a weekend workshop in feather carving." Because THAT IS A THING THAT HAPPENS!!!!!!!

Then I went to the bridge/Casselman River to sit for a moment. The ground was a little wet so I didn't really do what I thought I might, which was take off my shoes and put my feet in the river. This was in part due to the squishy-ness of the ground and one part the fact that there didn't seem like there was a really perfect place to get in there. Also, I'm not sure if there are rules against putting your feet in a river right by a crafts village and don't want to be banned.

Yup. I haven't read what I wrote, but I have looked at the photographs. It's kind of terrible. It demonstrates an entire lack of creativity. I keep getting stuck wanting to capture the same exact view or a very similar one, which doesn't capture any more of the feeling or thoughts that I may have been trying to capture. How can you capture the feeling of just being a kid being slightly interested, slightly mesmerized and slightly bored by a place?

In the end I basically took the same exact photographs that I took the last time, only fewer of them. After my meal and stroll I continued heading west. For a while I was on a pretty solitary/small road, which provided me many a beautiful vista of the hills and mountains around me. I am still not entirely sure what the mountains would have been, but my car definitely enjoyed the challenge of driving up and down a few of them. Also: coal propaganda is the worst.

Pho c/o Pho Ha Saigon

It had been a while since LW and I had gone to get pho together at Pho Ha Saigon. We remedied this a few weekends back. I went with the steak/brisket pho combo and also ordered the grilled pork rolls, which remain extremely tasty. Service as always was fast. Pho as always was rich and beefy. Coffee was just as crazily eye opening and thick with condensed milk as always.

Four Course Dinner Plus Extra Treats c/o Marigold Kitchen

A good amount of time ago CPM and I made our way to west Philly to enjoy a dinner at Marigold Kitchen. It was spectacular. We oohed. We ahhhed. We altogether enjoyed ourselves. Soon thereafter LW and I discussed how we ought to go to Marigold for her birthday. And then somehow we didn't. I forget what exactly prevented us from an August visit, but it never came to be. Months later we picked up that dropped ball and traveled on over to enjoy the restaurant's new format. When CPM and I went it was an a la carte design; it was up to us whether we enjoyed proper appetizers in addition to an entree and all their delightful amuse bouches. Now, after getting a lot of good press (I imagine this was a large contributor to the menu change) visitors to Marigold Kitchen have the option of deciding between a few price points and levels of coursed meals. We went with the minimum, but perhaps maximum returns. I must admit that this post will not include a photograph for each and every dish we were given. The lighting was extremely low and while I tried my best not to use the flash and keep my hands steady, the truth is that some photos just aren't at all up to par (and some that I'm including are iffy nontheless). For example, I'm not showing you the opening popcorn we were given that had been frozen/treated in such a way that the first few bites could give you the ability to exhale and have your breath be like steam. Wasn't able to capture that moment. Nope. Similarly, the light was so low that many of the photographs that I am sharing with you aren't entirely similar in appearance. Color correction under these conditions was difficult...but I hope you can see past these issues to the wonderful meal we did indeed enjoy.

This was some kind of tuna with foam.

I've completely forgotten what this was.

Butternut squash soup with foam.

Ravioli with chocolate.

Head cheese terrine with House Pickled Local Fruits & Vegetables, Toasted Baguette, Braised Mustard Seed.  

Hamachi with Wild Mushroom “Forrest,” Puffed Sticky Rice and Mushroom Tea.

Painted Hills beef filet  with Turnip-Horseradish Puree, Seared Foie Gras, Baby Turnip, Pear, Arugula, Caramelized Onion Pudding.

This was a truly tasty plate. The beef was perfectly medium rare, the foie nice and creamy and the radishes were just heavenly.

A little mint chocolate ice cream sandwich.

Carrot almond cake with Goat’s Kefir Ice Cream, Blood Orange, Candied Carrot  

We were seated on the second floor at a small table by a window. We both thought our main server dude was a little brusque, a little less excited than some of the other servers when it came to the magic he was putting down in front of us. Probably just an off day. I can't remember if LW just wanted to high five one of the other servers or if they actually did. I'm sort of leaning towards actually did.

BBQ and Bourbon c/o Philly's Fette Sau

It has been been more than a year since C., K. and I got together at Fette Sau for a taste of barbeque and bourbon in Brooklyn. Each time I've been back to New York since, I always have Fette Sau on the short list of places I'd like to go again...but I never end up there. So when I heard about Stephen Starr's collaborative plan to bring a Fette Sau to Philly I was excited. And then it opened and I was too busy to ever make it up to try it out. This went on longer than I'd like. So when Mr. Ass. asked me about the place at some point earlier this month, I told him what I knew and then a few days later suggested we go there for some grub and spirits. The evening was a Friday, and we went on the early bird side of things. Unlike my experience in Brooklyn, there was no line or wait whatsoever. The establishment itself is actually bigger, by quite a bit, than the Williamsburg original, but has very much the same decor and overall vibe. Initially the place felt a little empty, but over the course of our time there, things picked up.

So what did we order? We ordered pulled pork, brisket, ribs, pickles, sauerkraut and baked beans. The dude behind the counter was friendly and quite helpful. Totally willing to express his own opinion about which version of ribs he preferred, and to give us a sense of whether we were ordering too much or too little.

I believe Mr. Ass ended up favoring the ribs the most out of all the options, while I went back and forth between the meltingly fatty brisket and the ribs. All the sauces were good, but the meat on its own had a depth of smoky flavor that didn't even need the extra help.

I decided to have a Templeton Rye, as it makes me feel like I know something and reminds me of my Chicagoist days. It was a rainy night and I had been a tad bit stressed that week, so it was great to touch base with Mr. Ass and finally cross Fette Sau off my Philly new restaurant list. Big thanks to Mr. Ass for driving me to and fro even though it was out of his way, and for listening to me rant about this thing or that thing for a good majority of the meal.

Christmas Dinner

After our champagne and cheese hour, it was time for the main event, in which I had no hand. NC Catherine handled the meat and and potatoes, and I think J was responsible for the veggies that graced the table.

Above are the very cheesy scalloped potatoes NCC put together, and a salad that made us feel like we were totally within our rights to take seconds on the cheesy potatoes. The logic there is flawless.

Ah meat, glorious, glorious meat. I forget what this was, but NCC did a great job of making sure there were cuts of nice and rare meat for those of us who gravitate towards the pink, while also ensuring those who prepare their meat more well done could also fare quite well.

I must admit, I kept eating and eating, drinking and drinking. It was hard to stop when everything was so good!

Working to prevent unnecessary double chins, maybe?

Cousins as cousins do.

These were ostensibly to get a sense of the lighting conditions for a group shot of the whole family clan, but it went a little awry.

This terrifying photograph is of J. and myself doing 'Gagnam Style.' Terrrrrifying.

The green belt is a Christmas gift from NCC. I will not tell you what we're laughing about, but we know. Oh, we know.

Then Dad got into the action.

And did his funny weird face.

Eventually the dogs got bored and wanted in as well.

And that was pretty much a wrap for Christmas. We all walked the N.'s back to their house, stayed up a bit more and then poof! holiday times were over.