The Sound of Tearing Pages

Things I Ripped Out of Food Magazines Today:

*Mini-booklet of 50 Pizzas- Food Network Mar 2010

*"Sharpen Your Skills" FN Oct 2009 (How to dice onion, segment an orange, butcher a chicken, and filet a fish)

*"Green Apple-Sourdough Pancakes" FN Mar 2010

*"Cone of Plenty" FN Nov 2009 (Sweet spiced nuts served in a waffle cone)

*An advertisement for Glidden paint (Fresh Hyacinth and Black Tulip)

*"Buckwheat Crepes" FN Dec 2009 (Citris Shrimp, Sauteed Spinach, Sweet Onion, and Creamy Mushroom fillings)

*"Fennel-Cabbage Slaw" FN Jan/Feb 2010 (Same page, "Balsamic Glazed Squash" (acorn))

*"On the Road" FN June/July 2009 (1950's camper as food truck selling snow cones)

*"Making Classic Hollandaise" Cuisine At Home April 2010

*"Gateau Basque" Cuisine At Home Feb 2010 (Classic pastry, Italian cookie type crust w/ pastry creme)

*"Tart, Tasty Sourdough" Cuisine At Home Feb 2010


I just wanted to let you know that I considered using proper MLA citation for all of these, but as it's a No Pants Day... well, you can probably see where I'm going with that.

Nowhere, because I'm lazy.

There is something very therapeutic for me about ripping pages out of magazines. I have a folder over an inch thick of food recipes and articles. I have boxes of pictures from piles of magazines about graphic design and photography that my mother unloaded on me a few years ago.  I have forty some-odd food and science magazines in my bookshelves, some for years, just waiting for a day when I have a few hours free.

School starts this week, as does training. They will just have to wait some more.

Oh, ho, ho, I lie.

Remember last time when I said I was gonna run a half marathon? Guess what I did instead.

I bought cigarettes.

I know, I know, shut up. That's not what I'm here to talk about.

Let's talk about burgers. I am at Hawethorne's tonight, which has an amazing selection of beers. Tonight I am drinking Boulder Beer's Obovoid, an oak-aged oatmeal stout. The super tattooed guy who checked me out (aww, yeahhh) said, "This is perfect for burgers," and because I am very susceptible to suggestion, and I was hungry, I ordered one.

PS, "burger" is my safe word.
PPS, did you know that they used to call it the "everyday steak"? True story.

It comes on a toasted brioche bun with aged gouda (3 years old! like eating babies, if said babies were made of cheese).  Usually it comes with fries (the best thing here, not counting beer and cute guys), but I opted for a salad because... well, because I have been eating shit for two weeks and I thought it would offset four beers and a burger.

...

Again, shut up. My logic is sound. ("I can hear the ocean...!")

ANYWAY, stop interrupting kthx, I ordered my burger medium-rare, like I always do. And while it was a good burger in many respects (a decent 1/2" thick, brioche bun was excellent), it was definitely not medium rare. It's a fine line, but it makes a difference.

This is a picture of a delicious looking medium rare burger, which I *ahem* borrowed from Philly Phoodies's review of Sketch Burger*:

Do you see the four layers of meat cook-ed-ness? Seared, caramelized meat "crust"; thin, well done layer for meaty toothsomeness**; thicker layer of pinkish, juicy stuff; reddish-pink rabbit punch to the base of the brain*** of pure cow flavor. I am more than full (and a little drunk), and it is still making me salivate.

Man, I love burgers. And beer.

Off to bed with me now! Good night!



* They can't get mad if I promote them, can they?
** I might be making up words.
***Correctly guess this quote and I will buy you a beer...

Three night bender

I should be writing for you more, however my personal life is such that, at the moment, I spend most of my free time drinking. I just finished a three night bender. I drank A LOT. And I say "night" but save Monday they all started sort of midday. From what I understand, that's how these things go*. But I'm really not here to talk about that, because I have talked about drinking in every post, and while it's a highly prevalent topic in my life, I'd like for this to be about more than just that.

And so I've decided to run a half marathon.


* It's my first(!), and while I'd usually say, "BANG! New synapse!" to a new event, I feel like I killed possibly several hundred neurons, thus negating it. Easy come, easy go.

Paesano's Philly Style

One thing I can say for sure is that the guys at Paesano's make a damn good sandwich. You'll hear about Paesano's a lot from me- I love them. (Possibly in a way that may put me on the wrong end of a restraining order. Luckily, I have the anonymity of the Internet behind me [...er, in front of me?]!) Comparing a Philly cheese steak to a Paesano (the name of the shop but also a delicious sandwich) is like comparing Justin Beiber to Sam Cooke; like the week old water bottle that's on the floor of your car to an ice cold draught; like McDonald's to home cooking. I think you're getting the picture, right? Save the Ham Sloppy Joe from Main Street Submarines in Madison, NJ (another post), they are the best sandwiches I have ever had. Herschel's pastrami on rye (Reading Terminal Market) is also in the Top 5.

Man, I love sandwiches.

Today I sampled two new ones (I was with two other people and we shared. I swear!): Statiooch and Panelle. The Statiooch was today's special and was roasted turkey, arugula, provolone, onions, pickles, garlic mayo, and maybe I am forgetting something, but it was SO GOOD. There is a turkey sandwich and then there is a level above, this: a penultimate turkey sandwich. BUT GUESS WHAT! (You'll hardly guess...) The Panelle was better (I KNOW, RIGHT?). From the website: Sicilian Chic Pea Pancake, Roasted Tomatoes, Roasted Fennel, Pepperoncino, & Godzuki (sour cream & hot sauce). Seriously, the interplay between the juiciness of roasted tomatoes and the sweetness of the fennel, with both of those against the bite of the pepperoncino and the chickpea/sour cream combo... To quote one of my favorite bands, "Can I get a good God damn?!" Also, instead of being on the usual hoagie roll, it was wrapped in some sort of flatbread-tortilla thing which I apparently did not pay enough attention to, but it was appropriate for the sandwich; I don't think their regular bread would have worked.


In short, you should come to Philadelphia and take me out for a sandwich; I'll take you to the best place I know, and since I've never seen anything on the menu over $10, I'll even pay.


Beforehand, we stopped by Hawethorne's and picked up a couple Mudpuppy Porters and Andy had some type of Trappist ale which I tried and liked. Right now, I am enjoying a Full Nelson Virginia Pale Ale that my roommate brought back for me from her vacation. Right? Me & a pale ale! Craziness.

As always, thanks for reading. Recommendations for Philly eats and drinks and comments welcome, providing you mind my fragile ego. (I promise to write about something other than beer or food soon.)

POPE & The Bottle Shop

Last Thursday it was hot as balls in Philadelphia, and I, in my infinite wisdom, thought nothing of walking from Center City to Passyunk & Dickinson. Sometimes I am not smart (this blog may be a written testament to my bad decision making). At any rate, I ran into Andy & his bf who graciously asked me over for a quick beer (Victory's Golden Monkey) and Caprese salad.

A note on Caprese salad: This dish is simplistic, yet one of the most elegant and lovely things I can think to eat during the summertime. I love each ingredient separately, but in conjunction the perfectly ripe tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, basil, good olive oil, salt and cracked pepper are... well, I'm salivating so much right now trying to think of a good descriptor it's actually distracting. We're going to settle on sublime, and we'll revisit if a better word comes along*. I am also a huge fan of drizzling an aged balsamic vinegar on as well, and if you need to buy some, then Di Bruno Brothers is great. They have three locations now, but I'm partial to the S 9th St. store, if only because it's within blocks of where I'll soon be living. Now that I think about it, you can probably get everything but the tomatoes there, and for those you can go somewhere within a block, I'm sure.

I cannot wait to live next door to the Italian Market.

So, cooled off and revitalized, I made it through the second leg of my journey to POPE, a clever acronym for Pub On Passyunk East. They had a nice looking bar, and the rest reminded me of what I think the inside of an Ivy league dining hall might look like: stone and dark wood and such. And there among the dim recesses, two shining beacons of light: my friends, Meg & Mickie. These two are amazing ladies, and I always have a really fun time hanging out with them. Truth be told, I feel like they are funnier and cooler than I am, but they are also modest, and I bet when Meg reads this she'll pshaw, or something close to that. Doesn't make it not true, though.

At POPE, I had a really good beer, and I tried it three times so I could give you guys an accurate opinion of it. For you, people, I do it all for you. It was called Pretty Things American Darling Lager. Excellent summer beer, crisp and cold, light but not weak. 4 stars, which in my scales means that if it's on the menu, I would absolutely consider buying it again. The nachos were also good, and... that's the extent of my good. I ordered chips & salsa and guacamole. I had to order chips & salsa because the guacamole doesn't come with chips, which after I got my quarter cup ramekin of guacamole, I both understood that it wasn't quite enough to warrant chips, but also, why couldn't they throw a handful chips on there? In my opinion, the dip needed salt and lemon, and the salsa needed onion and cilantro and everything else they put in salsa besides tomatoes. My friends seemed to enjoy their food, and both looked tasty from across the table: one spinach salad and one grilled cheese. Props to Mickie for the night's win: anteing up $20 leftover from our last get together.

When we were finished there, we braved the atmospheric soup outside to walk a few blocks down to the The Bottle Shop for an international beer tasting: Innis & Gunn, Estrella, Tyksie, Pilsner Urquell, and Peroni Nastro Azzurro. I liked a couple, but none really registered enough to even consider buying for a more thorough tasting. It was fun talking to Kevin, the beer guy, who taught me some things about international brewers- they don't focus so much on labels like lager or ale, etc., which is difficult for me to process because it's the lens I see my beer through. I know I like lagers and ales, stouts and porters, and I know I don't really like IPAs or pilsners (I'll keep trying, for you Anonymous Readers. All for you). It's something I'm going to have to think about more as my beer knowledge grows.

I like the Bottle Shop, because it has a huge selection, several tables to relax at while drinking, AND they offer frosty glasses. I tried Hooker Blonde Ale and a swig of Mickie's UFO Raspberry Hefeweizen, both of which didn't really do it for me. However, this place is great and I'll definitely be a regular customer there.

Alright, this is long enough for today. As always, thanks for reading. I'm open to suggestions in and around Philadelphia for food or drinks, and comments on my writing as long as you're not mean about it.



* I am very specific with my words. I do not believe there is such a thing as a true synonym because each word holds a different connotation, a different feeling attached to it. This sometimes makes writing tough because, while a lot of words have a universal concept behind it, many of those ideas are personally affected by the readers' lives and mindsets, etc. I'll do my best.

It's not all beer and roses.

In the past, I used to say, "I don't really drink white wine," and would turn up my nose, and flip my hair, and imagine myself the coolest daughter of artists who ever did live because I only drank red wine, and ALL the red wine, in massive gallon jugs that would later be re-purposed into artsy candelabras. I WAS SO COOL.

As I get older, I am getting less cool. It's true- all the younger, cooler kids are saying so. (But, fuck them, right?)

As I get older, though, there are a million things which are open to me that I did not, would not, or didn't know enough to try before. Like white wine, a glass of which I am drinking as I write. (I call it 'practicing one handed typing'.)

It's a chardonnay from a winery about an hour north of me- Silver Decoy Winery in East Windsor, NJ. I met a couple friends there this past weekend for a tasting, tour, and outside drinking in the summer sunshine, while a band played an odd mix including Adele, Paul Simon, and the Zac Brown Band. It was a good day and I came away with a more than decent $13 bottle of wine.

I think I always thought that white wine was 'weak'. Weak in that it didn't seem to get the job done, but also weak in that the girls I had seen sneaking white wine were, well, not really girls that I would give a second thought to. (And by "sneaking white wine" I mean Arbor Mist White Zinfandel, which now that I am processing that, it changes my perception of what I remember seeing and why I have these biases. The girls were still vapid and boring, though.)  Those girls get manicures and go to the mall. They actually DO turn up their nose and flip their hair, and don't just say they do for dramatic effect (see first paragraph). Farm girls don't drink white wine.

Maybe therein lies the turn: I'm not a farm girl anymore. In my heart and in my past, yes, but in reality, no. I live in the suburbs and in two weeks I'll be living in Philadelphia proper again. I'm trying to cultivate the mindset of Woman and in this version she doesn't have dirt under her fingernails. In fact, she has fingernails- she doesn't bite them because of overwhelming anxiety about being a country girl in the city. Maybe I need a manicure. Maybe I need another glass of Chardonnay. Maybe both? (Oh, God, you'll tell me the minute I start being vapid, wont you?)

One thing I can tell you is this, the crux of my argument FOR white wine: It is fucking hot, and this Chardonnay is cold, and alcoholic, and no matter what I thought before, it is tasty and I'm half drunk.

"Be patient- and tough."

Because the "No posts" on the screen is mocking me.

I am not 100% sure what I would like this blog to become. Part recipe folder, part picture frame, part running journal, part venting space, plus more, I hope. I'm a massage therapist and student of kineseology (the study of movement) and I would like very much to post some videos of exercises that can help common postural or repetitive stress issues. I want to post healthy and/or indulgent recipes, and reviews of all the places I eat at in the effing awesome city of Philadelphia and elsewhere. (There are so many, srsly.) I'd like to practice my writing too, so that maybe someday I can publish articles for the myriad of things I'm interested in, and possibly receive money in return for them.

Oh, and the beer! I want this to be a tasting log and review of the different beers I try. I try a lot of them.

I'm sure it will take time for me to get the ball rolling on this, but if you've read this far, thank you.