I was born in Philly and get back there fairly often. Here's what I wrote about my last trip a few months back. You might guess, I'm a fan of Tony Luke's and Oregon Ave. PS, I think that the Main Liner's fear of Philly is largely overblown. On the other hand, Philly is no Chicago or NY in terms of neighborhoods and neighborhood safety. Simply not possible because so much larger a percentage of residents/businesses scrammed in the decades after WWII. Very much like Detroit that way. Still, a great town with great food and taking a big turn for the better within the last few years.
Well, I'm ashamed to admit that, while I did go to Philly, and I did go to Tony Lukes, I was not able to bring my camera. There's always next time.
A few quick observations: Tony Lukes remains. Yet this spot still is not in the common vernacular of Philadelphians, even those who love cheesesteaks, roast pork, etc. This is because, best I can tell, Philly is even a more compartmentalized, segregated place than Chicago. Oregon Ave. in South Philly is right there, off the 95 (indeed, Tony Lukes' parking lot is under the interstate itself), halfway between Center City and the airport, and a very short drive from the various new stadia. So, in terms of convenience, at least, TL's is no Johnnie's. Yet, people don't go there. Sure, Oregon Ave. is something of a free-for-all, a little like the area around Maxwell St. 10 years ago, but with a mix of hard-core Italian American holdout grocers, candy stores, cookie shops and steak stands (in it's way, a little like Melrose Park/Bellwood), latino businesses (including a big Mexican wholesale grocer, NAFTA has arrived in Philly), and African American businesses. It's dirty and has its fair share of trash-filled vacant lots, but the area is incredibly vibrant.
Anyway, I got the usual on my way back to the airport yesterday -- roast pork on an Italian roll with rabe and sharp provolone. Fantastic as always, though fairly pricey at 7 bucks. I'm sure the guys at Hertz appreciated the aroma of what must have been the sharpest provolone ever served. The bread was especially good, D'Amato's good if not better. I do not think that it was the famous Amoroso's that one gets at the tourist steak stands, the Gonella (but much better) of Philly.
In the end, TL's is getting some much-deserved notariety. In Philly, as here, it's who you know. Tony knows someone, cause TL has concessions in Philly's impressive new stadiums. My old friends from Philly love the stuff, though they feel a little defensive about have been turned on to the place by a guy in Chicago. Based on the new source of cash, TL's is opening a new store, across from the ramshackle original, that looks eerily like a new Portillo's.
PS, the "famous" steak places are no big deal in my opinion. Indeed, I don't get the appeal of even relatively good steaks, when roast pork is nearby.
Moving on to pizza. With Antonius and Rich in the back of my head, I walked around after watching some baseball at a Society Hill pub (Chimay on tap, but a disappointment as it was syrupy and expensive) and had a late slice at Lorenzo & Son's on South St. This is a humble little shack looking much like Mario's lemonade stand here on Taylor (that's "water ice" in Philly, you know). There was just one conclusion, which I used to know but had to be reminded of: the same reason you can't get this kind of pie in Chicago is the reason you cant get etherial hand-patted tortillas in Philly -- technique. Lorenzo, like places around many of the "old neighborhoods" back East, has a heavy guy standing in front of a huge, hot oven, hand-tossing deceptively-simple dough, transforming a resilliant softball into a translucently-thin, umbrella-size circle that, when complete, nearly hangs to the floor when dangled from chest-high by the big guy. Onto the peel, a light topping of fresh sauce and a decent amount of good cheese and into the oven it goes. In no time, the monster pie is divided, a slice thrown on a cheap paper plate and handed over in exchange for two bucks. As for toppings, the usual are there for a whole pie. But this place focuses on the slice and the mega pies that yield it. No toppings, "don't even ask" says the sign.
The big guy is the last of a dying breed. He has a feel for the dough, has been through the apprenticeship, understands the oven. This isn't rocket science, but it is millwork, or plastering, or plumbing. The ladies at La Quebrada are journeymen, too. But Chicago doesn't have anyone who can do this, not right now in a restaurant, at least. I still like my Aurelio's, though. Different breeds within the same species. Or apples and oranges, ribs and whole hog.
For dinner, my pals wanted to go to Pasion or Alma de Cuba. But it was restaurant week (3 courses/$30) and a big convention week. Ended up at the new Continental, an expanded version of the Old City original that started life as a pretty edgy bar with food. The new spot is the opposite of edgy, more like campy. A poor man's SushiSamba Rio, I'd say. "Global tapas" is the theme. While the drinks and company were great, the food was forgettable.
Next up, LA. I promise to try harder in the photo-doc department.
PS, Looking at Dickson's report (hey, you took my place at Alma de Cuba), I'm envious of your $30 dinner. Sounds much better that what I had at a place where we could get in because it isn't part of Restaurant Week. One observation, Cuban home cooking is often very heavy on the vinegar. But, somewhat like spice in Thai cooking, in restaurants the vinegar is added at the table by the diner. Any Cuban cafeteria in Miami or Tampa should bring out a caddy with oil and vinegar to add liberally to black beans, pork, congri, etc.