Thirteen going on Foodie

Ethan hovered over five take-out condiment cups with a dark, crispy fry. “It’s smoky yet creamy; a good balance of flavors,” he said after a decisive plunge into the chipotle mayo. He had ordered extra dipping sauces from Underdogs’ list of a dozen: Sriracha Mayo, Malt Vinegar Aioli, Garlic Aioli, Chipotle Mayo, and Utah Fry Sauce. He chewed the fry and rubbed his palms on his dark jeans, a dab of garlic aioli next to a mole on his cheek. “I’m only thirteen, but I’m a foodie.”

Parent teacher conferences provided the half-day Underdogs lunch opportunity, which Ethan took full advantage of, extra dips and all. He ordered the Chihuahua – Chorizo sausage with sautéed onions, chipotle mayo and queso blanco – and made it a combo with fries and a Pepsi. “Underdogs has a lot of interesting things,” Ethan said, like the Back in the Day (hot dog and cod fishcake, mustard and chopped onions), the Marrakesh (spicy merguez lamb sausage with harissa mayo and Mediterranean salad for $5) and even the Michigan (a dog with beef chili, cheddar, chopped onions and mustard).

A lunch outing is somewhat typical for a half-day afternoon; he takes the bus from Masterman Magnet School on Spring Garden to his godfather’s shop on Sansom. Ethan and Alex head out together and pick up lunch to bring back to stadler-Kahn, the one-of-a-kind gift/gallery/garment shop in Rittenhouse. They often eat lunch cozied up with felted animals made by a local artist, displays of children’s books written and illustrated by Alex, bright stacks of scarves, and a couple tiny dogs eager for a crumb.

 “They used to have these little teddy bears that were made out of rabbit hair,” Ethan told me. “This women made each bear from a specific rabbit, and she would weave them into these little bears that were so cute and cuddly and soft,” he said, tilting his head to one side. Alex’s shop features local artists as well as his own designs. “He does a lot of cool small drawings,” Ethan said proudly, pointing toward a mannequin in the back of the store. “Like that dress over there made out of tiny square drawings. He made a map of all of those, like 500 digital box drawing and it went into a pattern.” It’s an inspiring atmosphere, the eye wandering from an ink drawing of miniature whimsical cities to a single, simplistically elegant porcelain cup to the bowl of licorice candies near the front door.

On a normal school day, Ethan wakes up around 6:30 to catch the bus and his mom packs his lunch. It’s nothing special, usually leftovers. “But it’s not like the food in the cafeteria; it’s better and it’s homemade,” he said. He’s given the cold sandwich bar, hamburgers, and chicken patties a try, “They’re really bland, it’s all processed.”

Ethan comes from a family of food lovers. They order in often, using caviar delivery service. Monday night they ordered Sichuan from Dan Dan near Rittenhouse Square. Ethan had curry rubbed lamb with roasted peppers and onions and Sichuan peppercorn – a tongue-numbing spice native to the Sichuan province of China. “It makes even the water taste spicy,” Ethan said.

They cook at home too; Ethan likes to do reality TV-inspired family cooking challenges. Potato was the star ingredient of a recent competition. “I went out on a limb and actually made gnocchi from scratch,” Ethan told me. It turned out pretty good, except the tomato sauce wasn’t as sweet as he expected. “A good thing to do, Ethan, is to peel a carrot and just simmer that in the pot with your tomato sauce. That will take a lot of the bitter acidity out,” Alex said from the front of the shop. “The sweetness of the carrot will go through but it won’t be the sugary sweetness that you would get from adding sugar.” Ethan nodded. A good tip for next time.

I asked Ethan about his favorite spots to eat in Philly.

“I’ll do five. Three? Three.” He put his fingertips together and looked up, letting out a breath. “That’s hard.”

He chose Distrito for Mexican – great tacos and queso fondito in a fun atmosphere. He likes the Vetri restaurants for Italian. “It’s not like the Italian food that Americans do where it’s like oily pizza,” he explained. “I mean, that’s always fun to have like some good bad food, as we call it, where it tastes good but it’s bad for you. But this is like real, with real mozzarella and pieces of pork.” He and Alex frequent Dizengoff – Michael Solomonov’s casual Middle Eastern spot just down the street from the shop – for the exceptional hummus and frozen Lemonnanas.

“Actually, the weird thing is when I was young I used to be kind of like a beige kid,” Ethan said. “I just ate hot dogs, mac and cheese, you know, pasta.” He didn’t try a hamburger until he was nine – “I thought they were these weird patty things.”

A Marathon Grill burger changed his mind entirely.

Ethan’s not sure what he wants to do when he grows up. He could see himself being a computer programmer or an engineer. “The only reason I’m not sure if I want to be a cook is it’s a lot harder than I thought!” One year while on vacation, he set up a restaurant in his family’s house and invited friends for dinner. “It was tough though, I’m not sure if I’ll actually work in a kitchen,” he said. “Especially if it’s a good kitchen; there’s a lot of pressure. So if you’re ever going to get to the top you gotta work through a lot. And they do it daily.”

For now, Ethan will keep trying new things. He’s not one of those kids that says, “I’m going to be this,” and sticks with it. I watch him stack the half-full to-go cups in a pyramid that towers over the empty fry bags. “I like to experiment.”

Front Street to Fu-Wah; Bang-Bang

“Yeah, you can top me off. Make sure you twist the bottle so none gets on the table.” Caleb started in on a bowl of quinoa porridge as his roommate filled his glass from the tall bottle on the refurbished wooden table.  Raspberries, shaved coconut, apples, and some sort of cashew crema were heaped atop the steaming bowl. “I want to put a bunch of maple syrup on it,” he said, “But I’m not doing that because why ruin this delicious, healthful breakfast?” 

It was 1:30pm on a Wednesday. “We work in the service industry,” John said, “So lunch is breakfast.”

The two sat across from each other at Front Street Café, John in a big, cozy fiber knit sweater and Caleb in a plaid flannel and backwards hat. Today they were having “date day.”

 “We’ll go out if we’re both awake and off,” John said. He was enjoying “A big ol’ burger to soak of the booze in my stomach from last night.” They had been out drinking “Everywhere…” Bacon, Spanish cheese (“Almost like a munster,”), some sort of mayonnaise that they don’t call mayonnaise (“Must be aioli,”), and Bibb lettuce, piled between the toasted brioche roll might help the hangover. “I asked for medium but this is more like medium-well,” he said. “It’s hard to go out to a restaurant when you work in one and turn that off.”

John is a server at Kraftwork, a craftsmanship-inspired bar/restaurant in Fishtown. Caleb has worked for the Vetri Family restaurants for six months, most often at the Pizzeria in Center City. His workplace environment may be changing a bit; in an “unprecedented event in the restaurant and retail world,” (Marc Vetri for PhillyMag) Urban Outfitters bought the Vetri Family a couple weeks back.

The two roommates’ thoughts on the Vetri/Urban combination:

Caleb: “I’m about to get so many deep v-neck t-shirts.”

John (on lifestyle centers): “A food court on crack.”

John: “Let’s pop in for lunch and get a sweater.”

Caleb: “No, I’d get an over-priced Beatles record instead.”

John: “Or a record player that will also pet your cat…” 

“Oh shit,” John said, holding up a pointer finger. They both tuned into the jazz playing for a moment and threw out an artist. John and Caleb went to music school at Temple. John studied jazz performance and education. He’s currently working on a film, and Caleb sang in one of the featured tracks. They’ve lived among many part-time artists and innovators in Fishtown for the past six years.

Typically, they’ll eat lunch where they work. “Honestly, I mod everything,” John said, meaning, he doesn’t order off the menu. “I eat whatever is not going to sit in my stomach like a rock,” he said, “You don’t want to be full when you’re serving.” Caleb agrees. He’ll eat a huge salad with all the toppings on the line. And pizza? “I can’t, because I know what’s going to happen,” he said, “I’m going to eat it all day everyday.”

If you don’t have the opportunity to eat Vetri pizza everyday and happened to stop in for lunch, Caleb recommends a white pizza with fresh rosemary and arugula tossed in basil pesto. John recommended the Beer Can Chicken Sandwich for lunch at Kraftwork, which started a little roommate banter. According to Caleb, the proper way to prepare beer can chicken is to cook a whole chicken over a can of beer. As in, situate the neck cavity of the chicken around a mostly full, open can of beer and let the beer evaporate up through the meat as it cooks.

“That’s bullshit,” John said. Apparently, the beer is just for flavor, and the whole can thing is for show. “Can the customers see the can?” Caleb shook his head and looked at me. “His idea of been can chicken is you cook a chicken and drink a beer,” he said. “Your chicken comes out dry and you’re drunk so you don’t care!”

It’s not quite that simple at Kraftwork. “You take a hotel pan, put Doylestown R5 lager, salt, pepper, bay leaves, you know, and braise the chicken. Get the sugar from the beer to caramelize,” John explained. They pull the chicken off the carcass the next day and pile it on a brioche roll with sharp provolone and caramelized onions and long hots. Caleb laughed at John. “You can’t try to swoon a food writer with caramelized onions and peppers.” (I get his point, though I'd say caramelized onions are a timeless classic.)

“Eat more food,” was their plan for the rest of the day. They were doing what is called a bang bang, “When you eat two full meals in a row.” Louie C.K. coined the term ‘bang bang’ in his show, Louie. You go to one place and eat a full meal, and then you go right to another place and eat another full meal. Bang. Bang. 

They were off to Fu-Wah mini-market on 47^th and Baltimore Ave for the best tofu Bahn Mi. They only had an hour to get there or it wouldn’t count as a legitimate bang bang.

“We literally both owe the same amount,” John said, picking up the check.

“Can I have that?” Caleb asked, pointing his fork at half the flash-fried potato on John’s plate.

“Only if you eat it in one bite.”

Well fed, bill paid, and off to West Philly for another meal.

Marie Misbehaves

Marie took the last bite of before-crust pizza at a spindly table of the corner of 9^th and Christian. The slice from Lorenzo’s on the north end of the Italian Market was an unusual lunch choice for her. “Very unhealthy, very unhealthy,” she said, splaying her French manicure over the paper plate. “But I had to do it. I just wanted to grub today.”

On a typical afternoon, Marie would be cooking for two six year olds. The kids are best friends and live together with their moms, who are also best friends. Maria babysits and helps keep up the home. “The kitchen is bigger than mine, but I cook regardless of the size of the kitchen,” she said. Yesterday she made pasta with red sauce, sautéed mushrooms in garlic sauce, broccoli with lemon, and a few pieces of beef on the side. She smiled proudly. “So ya, I cook.”

Marie moved to Philadelphia from St. Paul Minnesota ten years ago. She has a love/hate relationship with the city. The love is food; she can get good Spanish food at Tierra Columbiana or Freddy and Tony’s, Vietnamese at Pho Ha, quick and convenient lunch at City View Pizza, or cheap ingredients to make an astonishing meal at the Italian Market. The thing she hates about Philly? “There’s something about the east coast… people are dry.” The buttons on her denim blouse hit the table as she leans forward. “I’m being polite.”

Marie misses the warmth and friendliness of St. Paul. “My heart is in the Midwest,” she said, clasping her hands together over her pink lace cami. She goes back to St. Paul more frequently then Puerto Rico, where her aunts and sisters still live. “It’s sad, but it’s true,” she said with a shrug.

We sat on the corner of the very street of Marie’s introduction to Philly eleven years ago. She visited a friend - a chef - and their first stop was the Italian Market. Outdoor produce stalls with outrageous one-dollar deals (Seriously. Buckets of clementines, pears, or apples for a dollar), cheese shops that are overly generous with their samples, a tortilleria that emits the smell of masa down the block, forcing you to purchase a bucket of avocados, a bunch of fresh cilantro, and seven limes (for three dollars), fresh fish, handmade sausage… all of which attracts the most diverse crowd in the city; how could one not swoon? “You don’t even need to have a refrigerator if you live around here!” she said.

This afternoon she was back in the neighborhood for an acupuncture appointment with Dr. Wang. Maria has Fibromyalgia and was diagnosed with stage-3 cervical cancer last spring. Her health insurance company recommended the acupuncturist on 9^th. She’s found that her weekly 25-minute appointments really help. She pointed to the dingy yellow sign down the block. “You can’t expect anything glamorous,” she said, “but they do what they’re supposed to.”

She indulged in a slice of pizza because Dr. Wang was late and she had time to kill. “In a day that I’m not misbehaving, I like making soup,” she said. She’ll cook for herself and the girls - a serving of vegetables and a small piece of meat. I ask if the kids are picky. Her 90s-style flipped hair sprang as she shook her head. “I cook with a Hispanic twist, so my food has a lot of flavor,” she said. “They don’t complain.”

Forty Stories Down for Fish Fillet

Terrance sat on the stone arc at the northeast entrance to Rittenhouse Square. He swung his heavy-duty, green-booted feet and pulled a paper box out of a McDonalds bag. The second box. “It’s some fast-break special, so I got two,” he said. Two fish fillets and fries. “My lunch is like $5.40 today,” he said. “And I’m like, I can’t beat that.”

The second sandwich goes quick, but he doesn’t seem rushed. His lunch break is normally a half hour, but lately it’s been 45 minutes. “We’ve been skipping our first break because it’s hard to come down just for 15 minutes,” he said.

Terrance spent the morning in the brisk air 40 stories above Market Street. He sits on a swing – “The technical term is suspended scaffolding, I guess,” – that’s hung from cables attached to two beams at the top of the building. The platform spans the width of four to five windows and can be raised and lowered along the building. He and another guy sit on opposite sides of the platform, working simultaneously.

He’s working on the façade of the Beneficial Bank building, removing chunks of material that are starting to fall apart. “At that height, it’s pretty dangerous,” he said. To have pieces of concrete falling to the sidewalk below? I’d agree.

Terrance wore a black cap stretched tight to hi ear buds. Just before I interrupted his lunch, he had been watching a video he’s pretty excited about. The Cypher with Eminem, Mos Def and Black Thought. “It’s nuts,” he said, smiling and shaking his head. “It’s bonkers.”

He listens to hip hop on his way to and from work. Top three? Nas (“Like God”), Killah Priest (“Offspring of Wu Tang,”) and Black Thought (just squeezing in above J Electronica). “My wife would know all of those answers,” he said proudly. Sometimes they do how-well-do-you-know-each-other quizzes; she always gets that one right.

Terrance works for the Masonry Preservation Group (MPG) out of New Jersey. They do restoration on all types of buildings, from parking garages to historic churches.  Before the Beneficial project, Terrance spent two years at the Belgravia on 18^th and Chestnut, restoring 300 hand-cut stones. The high-rise condo building (a two bedroom runs around $3,000 per month) has one of the most intricate facades in Center City.

They’ll be working on the job at Beneficial sometime into next year, Terrance suspects. If the weather gets bad – too windy or snowy – they’ll have to shut it down. The crew has access to the 7^th floor of the building for the duration of the job. Some of the guys have lunch in the break room when it’s chilly, but Terrance prefers to eat outside.

He often packs a lunch of leftovers – spaghetti, chicken, meatloaf – whatever he cooked up the night before. He has four kids – two boys and two girls – at home. “They’d rather buy pretzels all day than take leftovers for lunch,” he said. It’s just not cool. 

On days he doesn’t feel like carrying his huge lunchbox, Terrance gets a custom wrap from Maria at his go-to cart on 16^th between Ranstead and Market. “She has a really good chicken Caesar wrap I’ve turnt into something delicious,” he said. And the fish fillets today? He’d do it again; “It was good. Very good,” he said. “Both of ‘em.