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In the world of niche coffee and still-oven-warm bread (and almond croissants) the terroir was alive with new possibilities and not a little angst last week on the streets of West Philadelphia.
Before martinis got all silly and the advent of oxymoronic sports bars, there was the Happy Rooster, a gem of a hideaway at the corner of 16th and Sansom, its bar warm Brazilian rosewood, its aspect buttoned-down and, in the '60s, perfectly scripted for a Mad Man.
Among the come-ons in these last desperate days of August, we are seeing tomato feasts and three-martini lunches, and last week something called "The Five Bite Lunch" surfaced at 10 Arts, the bistro behind the towering columns of the Ritz-Carlton, south of City Hall.
No, protests Jon Myerow, who owns a couple of craft-beer-and-cheese-centric Tria cafes in Center City, he's not a Luddite. He's as addicted to his BlackBerry as the next guy.
Every once in a great while, you will still spot the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile, the glistening, 27-foot motorized hot dog (currently sporting Pontiac Firebird taillights), as it makes its all-American rounds - an earthbound comet, looping back in from the '50s.
WEST GLOVER, Vt. - You can expect certain things here each summer - that Phil Brown down at the rabbitry will insist on undercharging you for rabbit rather than make change from a $20 bill (which compels you to bring him a gift bottle of wine, which he th
It's a stranger in a strange land, the lobster roll in Philadelphia, a shellfish out of water in the province of the Italian hoagie, the sidewalk cheesesteak, and slow-roasted pork with sharp provolone (and a lash of broccoli rabe).
CORRECTION: Everything old is new again, as they say. Like fried chicken. It's hot and re-happening. Hey, if Mad Men can be cool again - skinny ties and '60s martinis, the uptown picture of retro - why not a shout-out for its country-picnic cousin?
It is an enchanting spread, Blue Elephant Farm, 75 sloping acres, dappled with stone stables, a barn-red barn or two, the occasional sculpted elephant rising in the fields. This is where the urban-farmhouse restaurant called Supper, at 10th and South, procures its "daily [vegetarian] harvest menu."
Gloomy skies and, finally, a steady rain thinned the usual lunch crowd one afternoon last week at McGillin's Old Ale House, still situated on Drury Street, the hidden lane that stretches a single block between 13th and Juniper, east of City Hall.