Lunch for the Pope

“I’d give him a marinated grilled chicken with spinach and sharp provolone on a long roll, with a salad,” John said with a sidelong glance toward the kitchen. He wiped his ruddy nose on the tan hand-towel around his neck and looked back and forth from empty chairs to his view of 21^st St. A few people with matching t-shirts and lanyards strolled by.  The blocks of center city were a patchwork of mobbed checkpoint areas and one-ways, empty but for a few cyclers going the wrong way.

On the Saturday afternoon just a few hours before the pope was expected to process around Independence Mall, Tony’s Restaurant was entirely deserted. But let’s just say, hypothetically, that the pope himself were to walk in for lunch. John would make him a sandwich. “I gotta cheesesteak too, but I think my chicken’s better.”

The pope would get a Brat Burger and beer if Ty at Shakeshack took care of him. A hamburger topped with flat top griddled bacon, a cheddar stuffed brat, crispy shallots and a ShackMeister Ale. “Or maybe a pope-dog,” the store manager said. “With a hat on top.”

Shakeshack was slow as well, and Ty told me they were dead on Friday. “We way over-ordered,” he said. A common issue, as restaurants had to place orders by Thursday because of restricted delivery and most expected to be exceptionally busy.

A quick stop for something to snack on while waiting for a glimpse of the pope, Capogiro’s on 20^th seemed to be faring well. “I’m sure everyone wants to serve him Dulce de Leche, but I think we have the best,” a woman behind the case said. It’s the pope’s favorite flavor of gelato and it’s been hugely popular recently. They make the Argentinian caramel in-house – sweet, balanced, and rich.

Village Whiskey stayed busy with their grill station on the street. Jose would serve him the Village Burger of course - house ground beef with tomato, Bibb lettuce, and 1000 island dressing. The pope seems like a well-done kind of guy, we agreed.

Almaz and her son sat behind the counter at their empty Ethiopian café on 20^th. “It’s okay,” the owner shrugged. “As long as our city’s happy it’s good.” She’d serve Pope Francis something sweet: a fresh mango smoothie.

A few blocks down the street, Rotisseur was exceptionally slow as well. “We’ve had fifeteen tickets today,” Aaron, who started the restaurant four and a half years ago, said. “This is the slowest day since we’ve opened.”

This Pope weekend was majorly hyped; restaurants in center city expected a deluge of patrons on Saturday. What they got instead were pilgrims. “The idea that they were all going to come here and be tourists was so naive,” Aaron said. “These people are here for one thing, and that is to see the pope.”

Aaron suspected that chain and big-name restaurants in Center City were doing okay. “For the rest of us, we’re screwed.” He estimated a $6000 loss in expected revenue for the weekend, a setback that could take a restaurant of his size more than a month to make up. “I still have hope – faith I should say,” but he warned me, he was bitter.

A slight eye-roll at my question. “Oh, we’d give him everything.”

Five Hundred Forty-Six Salads

“I’ve had this salad for three years.”

Neil, thin gray curls spinning from his temples, pushed dressing-slicked cubes of ham and chopped romaine around on his plate with a plastic fork. His hastily folded Philadelphia Inquirer edged off the square table in the Bellevue Eatery food court.

He purchased his lunch from Bellevue salad for $7.29: a chef’s salad, with nuts instead of croutons. I asked what kind of nuts. “You know?” he said. “I don’t even know. I can’t remember. Maybe you could tell me.” We inspect one of the last morsels on the thanksgiving-themed paper plate. Definitely walnuts.

Neil doesn’t like to think about what he’s eating at lunchtime. He estimated he’s been eating the chef’s salad three to four times per week for three years. “I walk up there, they know exactly what I want, I have my little interaction, and then I come back here,” he said. He wants his half hour break to be a true break. “Lunchtime is a moment of quiet,” he said, and then smiled. “Until I’m interrupted by people like you.”

If he’s not on the lower level of the hotel in his business-casual button up, jacket and jeans, Neil might be upstairs for a lunch meeting at Bliss. There, he also sticks with pretty much the same meal; for the first two years it was the Bliss Burger (cheddar fondue, caramelized onions, remoulade, lettuce and tomato with fries or a salad for $14), and he has since moved on to the omelet of the day. “I want to turn off part of my brain that requires me to make decisions,” he said.

Neil is a professor of innovation and entrepreneurship at the University of the Arts. He’s also the director of the Corzo Center for the Creative Economy (“Formed to keep art where it belongs, central to society and an economy that requires ideas and imagination,” see website for more). His days fill up with meetings like a snack bowl anticipating a movie.

“Meetings are like popcorn. I have so many that are so similar,” he said. “You keep eating the same thing, you forget what you’re eating, but you keep eating it.”

The movie plays on.

“But I like popcorn. I like talking to people about innovation and entrepreneurship all the time.”

At lunch Neil drinks water, though to keep up with the daily schedule he consumes two to three extra-large cups of coffee (with extra milk) everyday. His coffee habits are a tad eccentric. “I treat my coffee like a fine wine,” he said, meaning he sometimes waits a day to drink a cup, leaving it on his desk to ‘aerate’. He’s a diehard Dunkin Donut patron (“I don’t like Starbucks.”), though a dilemma has arisen with the recent Wawa opening near his office. Same price, just as good, more convenient location. “It’s one of these decisions,” he said. “Will I continue with Dunkin Donuts, or will I switch over to Wawa?”

Whatever he decides, I’m sure he’ll be drinking it – before and after the chef’s salad – for  years.

Jonathan's Lunch Makes It

A group of hiking boot-clad gardeners assembled in Fitler Square for their midday break. All dirty nails and sweaty temples, Grace, Jonathon, Margo, and Laura showed up to the benches with multifarious lunchtime spreads.

“Jonathan’s the best about his lunch,” Grace said. “He always packs it and it’s always healthy.” Jonathan sat with a glass container of quinoa, lentils, roasted vegetables and sautéed Swiss chard balanced on his lap. “This is not a masterpiece,” he chuckled blushingly.

Grace looked at her own to-go container from Good Karma on 22^nd and Pine. “They have the half sandwich/salad combination so I got the vegetarian sandwich,” she said.

Laura and Margo joined a few minutes later with sundried tomato paninis from Rival Bros (apparently it’s worth it to go there just for the toast, made with High Street on Market’s famous bread), an ice cream sandwich, and a popsicle; the clients tipped them out to pick up lunch. Margo had packed day old chickpea salad, (“That doesn’t really smell right…”) and Laura had brought two slices of bread (“I went to make a pb&j but there was mold on both the peanut butter and jelly,”). So they were pleased, to say the least, with the fortuitous upgrade.

The four make up the team of Graceful Gardens, a company Grace started eight years ago to serve the urban gardens (and gardeners) of Philadelphia. The day I met them, they were working on two roof decks, an interior courtyard, and window box on 22^nd and Lombard. They provide a range of services, from design to maintenance to consulting. Grace typically works from 6:30am ‘til dark. The three join her around 8:00am and wrap up at 6:00 or 7:00.

Their client population is densest in Rittenhouse Square so they often eat lunch in Fitler Square. “Honey’s Sit and Eat is good in the winter – it’s fast, and you get hot food,” Grace said, bent in half, slurping her Lil Pop Shop dessert (Vietnamese iced coffee flavor). She also frequents Bacchus on 22^nd and Spruce.

As I walked with them back to Lombard, Jonathan asked about the blog.

“My parents will be so proud,” he said with feigned excitement. “My lunch finally made it!”

Lauren double-fisting with her panini and peach bourbon jam, oatmeal cookie ice cream sandwich

Cheesesteaks and Caviar

A splattered paint cloth concealed the steps in front of a Delancy Place apartment. Ladders leaned against the brick, reaching the robin’s egg blue shutters on a fourth story window. John, Mike, and Matt took a break on the stoop, a fresh coat of ‘Caviar’ on the door behind them.

“Eh, it’s a little dry,” John said of his ketchup-topped cheesesteak from Gusto Pizzeria. His took a swig of Mountain Dew while Mike protested through a mouthful of Greek salad. Apparently John’s a harsh critic. “Alright, it’s okay,” he conceded.

I ask how much time they allot for their lunch break.  

“30 minutes,” “Psh, ten minutes,” “Like sixteen-point-five minutes,” they say over one another.

Matt and John laugh and look at Mike. He had answered 30 minutes.

He shakes his head. “I’m the boss, so it’s always too long.”

The three men work for R. Chobert Decorating Co. and paint apartments and restaurants primarily in Center City. “That’s my dad,” Mike says, pointing to the logo printed on his white tank top. It’s a family business, making Philly prettier since 1967.

Mike tells me that many contractors don’t like to work downtown because traffic can be a hassle, parking’s tough, and the pay isn’t as good, but he likes it. He’s boisterous, the kind of guy who needs to be around some bustle.

For lunch, they typically get takeout from a nearby joint on the job. Little Italy, Randazzo’s Pizzeria, and Souvlaki on South are a few favorites. And Donnie’sRoast Pork for “The best roast pork sandwich you’ve ever had,” according to Mike. He also likes Johnny Hots in Fishtown for Hot Sausages.

“The Halal cart on 8^th and Spruce is good too,” John chimed in.

“Except they don’t have sausage,” Mike said.

John smiled, “…Yeah, that’s not HaLAAled.”