24 minute read

Kurt Evans is Fighting For Criminal Justice Reform—One Dinner at a Time

As a chef–organizer–entrepreneur, Evans highlights the stories of incarcerated individuals through food, narrative, and most importantly, empathy.

Content warning: The following text describes an incident of sexual assault, which can be disturbing and/or triggering for some readers.

K

urt Evans, born and raised in Southwest Philadelphia, is a chef by trade. His career aspirations were nurtured by the intimate relationship between food and family he experienced growing up. “I got involved in cooking at an early age through my grandmothers,” who Evans affectionately dubbed “cooking machines.” “They had big families, so they did a lot of cooking,” he says.

With over a decade's worth of experience in the culinary field under his belt, Evans has earned himself the nickname “cheftivist”’—a nod to his penchant for using food and cooking as a method of activism.

In 2021, Evans opened Down North Pizza in Strawberry Mansion, generating national attention for his food–related advocacy. The restaurant exclusively employs formerly incarcerated individuals and hopes to encourage other businesses to hire open–mindedly as well. He sees food “as a vehicle to be able to talk about mass incarceration, food insecurity, [and] racial systemic issues.”

Specifically, Evans is passionate about criminal justice reform. Watching several of his own family members go to prison added a personal dimension to his fight against mass incarceration.

According to The Sentencing Project, there are two million people incarcerated in the United States, more than any other nation in the world per capita. Over the past 40 years, the number of incarcerated people has increased by 500 percent due to changes in sentencing law and policy rather than an increase in crime rates, with Black and brown people being disproportionately impacted by this trend. In fact, studies suggest that mass imprisonment has not contributed significantly to crime reduction, highlighting the dysfunction of America’s criminal justice policy.

While most people would call Evans an activist, he prefers the term “organizer.” In fact, he feels that the label “cheftivist,” though used with good intent, is often inaccurate to the work he does. “Activism is to the point where you’re being reactive to something— organizing is being proactive,” he says.

The ethos that drives Evans’ work is simple: He wants to help his community, using his skills as a chef to organize for justice. “There have been so many issues that have been compounded on society,” he says. “How can we educate people in ways where they [know where] to get help?”

Six years ago, Evans started holding a series of dinner events that center conversations about the criminal justice system, aptly named the End Mass Incarceration (EMI) Dinners. Since then, he’s spearheaded successful EMI dinners in all corners of the United States—from Alaska to Texas to New York—but most of his recent work is concentrated in his hometown of Philadelphia.

The newest iteration of the EMI series is called Stories of Resilience. At each dinner, a formerly incarcerated individual who’s since engaged in advocacy work is highlighted and invited to share their story with attendees. “They’re doing preventative work to stop people from going [back] to jail in their re–entry stage,” he says. As the guest of honor speaks, everyone is served dinner, prepared in part by Evans.

I was invited to attend the most recent EMI dinner on Sept. 10 at the Dorrance H. Hamilton Center for Culinary Enterprises in West Philly. When I arrived, Alexandra Hunt, who ran for Pennsylvania’s 3rd Congressional District this year on a progressive platform, was already seated at a table, chatting enthusiastically with the person sitting next to her. Past iterations of Evans’ EMI dinner series have drawn several other local politicians, including District Attorney Larry Krasner and Councilmembers at–large Kendra Brooks, Isaiah Thomas, and Helen Gym.

As more guests slowly filtered into the dining area, introductions were exchanged, as well as warm greetings between friends. Ev-

IT’S NOT SO MUCH JUST TALKING ABOUT MASS INCARCERATION, IT’S ACTUALLY HEARING SOMEONE THAT HAS BEEN INCARCERATED.

KURT EVANS

ans notes that many attend more than one dinner, a testament to the series’ ability to not only raise awareness of the need for prison reform, but also build a community of advocacy in the process.

Before the presentation began, my table mate, Sampson Jean–Louis, enthusiastically shared that this was also his first time attending one of Evans’ EMI dinners. He was particularly excited to have gotten a seat at that night’s event because pineapple upside–down cake was on the menu—one of his favorites. A spicy mango salad and mahi–mahi with rice and green beans were also served.

Evans encourages attendees to sit with people they don’t already know to facilitate the exchange of personal stories. During our conversation, Jean–Louis told me about an elderly man who’d been previously incarcerated. After his release, he went on to work— and eventually retire from—a position with the government. He said to me several times, “You would never guess that he had been to jail.”

During our interview, Evans speaks to this point: He’s using the EMI dinner series as a platform to create a narrative shift. “People look at these individuals as not worthy. [They think,] ‘Lock them up, throw away the key, don’t let people out,’” he says, but his events get “real people … to tell real stories about their lives and how they got to where they are.”

As the dinner began, guest speaker Cynthia Alvarado described the work she’s done to transform her own narrative and those of other incarcerated individuals. In 2010, she was wrongfully convicted and sentenced to life without parole. In 2020, she successfully appealed her case and was released from prison—something few other people in her position have the legal knowledge or resources to accomplish.

Aided by questions from local judicial candidate and friend Caroline Turner, Alvarado told the story of her encounter with the criminal justice system.

She opened by detailing the story of a devastating car accident she was involved in—one that tragically killed her uncle. Alvarado also suffered serious injuries, including a broken pelvis. The trauma of the accident led her to begin self–medicating with Xanax in an attempt to numb the physical and emotional pain.

In October 2008, Alvarado drove to Fairhill Square Park in North Philadelphia in search of Xanax, accompanied by her cousin, Oscar Alvarado. She waited in the car as her cousin secured the medication. When he came back, he was holding a gun and instructed her to drive away. In the panic of the moment, Alvarado complied. Soon after, she found out that he had killed a woman named Marta Martinez–Lozada.

Alvarado was never aware of what her cousin had planned, and she didn’t participate in the actual murder. However, a judge’s decision and the Pennsylvania felony murder statute led to her second–degree murder conviction, which carried a mandatory life sentence without parole.

Alvarado spent 18 months at the Riverside Correctional Facility, a prison in North Philly. In prison, Alvarado was subjected to multiple types of abuse by the guards. She was forced into solitary confinement for eight months and raped.

Alvarado cried as she recounted her incarceration, but she still managed to speak with impassioned clarity about the substandard health care and lack of resources within the prison system, repeatedly telling the audience that “women are dying in there.”

After Alvarado finished her speech, the floor was opened to questions, which evolved into a lively discussion as the night progressed. Between courses, participants offered their ideas on how best to combat mass incarceration. Alvarado munched on green beans with a concentrated look on her face, interjecting every once in a while with her opinion.

Through the EMI dinner, Evans gave Alvarado the platform to use her experience to generate a night of advocacy, learning, and engagement. The money raised from donations made by dinner attendees was presented to Alvarado at the end of the event, a contribution to support her work, since activism tends to pay very little as an occupation.

“Storytelling is very healing,” Evans says. “It’s not so much of just talking about mass incarceration, it’s actually hearing someone that has been incarcerated.”

Sarah Gager, a two–time attendee of the EMI dinner series, seems to agree. “These prisoners have a story to tell,” she says, “and it’s not the story that ends up on the police report or the court docket. There’s much more to the story, and the EMI dinners let you look at the situation in a holistic way.”

But these dinners aren’t just educational— they’re also transformative. Gager says, “The [EMI dinners] to me are just very moving, and I’m usually in tears while I’m eating.” By highlighting the stories of formerly incarcerated people, Evans’ EMI Dinners challenge prior conceptions of imprisonment in an empathetic, human–oriented way.

In addition to hosting the EMI dinners, Evans also devotes much of his time to his role as an organizer for the 215 People’s Alliance, a multiracial collective dedicated to building poor and working–class solidarity and justice in Philadelphia. 215 interviews political hopefuls, endorses policy changes, recommends judicial candidates, and calls for prosecutor accountability, among other undertakings. Although he was originally hired to a temporary position during Dis-

trict Attorney Krasner’s campaign, Evans is now 215’s mass liberation organizer.

Within his role at the 215 People’s Alliance, Evans founded Justice for All (J4A), a volunteer group “committed to ending mass incarceration and reimagining what community safety looks like.” Currently, J4A is involved with Voices of the Unheard, a project whose purpose is to collect, share, and center the stories of those who are incarcerated. Robert “Mjasiri” Dowell, who’s currently on year 12 of his 25–year prison sentence, is the project creator.

He initially reached out to Jaime Sullivan, a member of J4A, who ultimately brought the idea to Evans’ attention. Dowell’s collaboration with J4A will culminate in an art exhibit at the Urban Art Gallery on Dec. 10 and Dec. 11. Visitors will be able to interactively listen to audio recordings of participants who shared their stories and view various other artworks done by incarcerated individuals.

In a phone interview with Dowell, he says of his aspirations for the project, “I’ve never seen anything out there telling our stories in a positive light, even though there are individuals who were formerly incarcerated that came home and are doing well.” He wants to gain support by sharing the personal stories of inmates and motivate the public to take action toward ending mass incarceration.

Although J4A is coordinating the exhibit from the outside, leveraging their resources to help Voices of the Unheard succeed, Evans stresses that the project is Dowell’s at its core. The two of them talk on the phone multiple times a week so that the final product presented to the public reflects Dowell’s vision. “You need to understand that everything here is for the [incarcerated] individuals. They should get the reverence. I take pride in helping behind the scenes,” Evans says. Those who shared their stories for the exhibit will be compensated for their time using grant money.

On Sept. 7, during a weekly J4A Zoom meeting, Evans, Sullivan, and Beatrice, another J4A member, reviewed the logistics and marketing approach for the Urban Art Gallery event. After about half an hour, Sullivan got a call from Dowell, who joins the J4A meetings to discuss Voices of the Unheard in addition to his frequent one–on–one conversations with Evans.

[EVAN] AND DOWELL ALWAYS MAKE SURE TO SAY GOODBYE AND HANG UP BEFORE THE SYSTEM ENDS THE CALL—A RECLAMATION OF AGENCY AND HUMANITY IN THE HEAVILY REGIMENTED CRIMINAL (IN)JUSTICE SYSTEM.

“This is a prepaid collect call from an incarcerated individual at SCI Coal Township. This call is not private. It will be recorded and it may be monitored,” the automated prison phone system warned. Immediately after, Dowell and the team got to work.

When talk of exhibit graphics subsided, Evans suggested that Dowell and other incarcerated individuals contribute to another project in the works at J4A. They’re collecting questions, such as, “What kind of education and counseling services can the government provide for children to end the school–to–prison pipeline?” to create candidate forums on mass incarceration reform.

Many local political hopefuls are inclined to engage with the 215 People’s Alliance to garner support for their campaign. For example, Pennsylvania Attorney General Josh Shapiro, who is now running for governor of Pennsylvania against GOP extremist state Senator Doug Mastriano, has already been interviewed by 215.

Eventually, conversation turned away from J4A altogether, becoming an informal, but nonetheless thoughtful, deliberation on the failures of the criminal “(in)justice” system— as Dowell prefers to call it. These passionate, organic conversations seem to be typical in Evans’ work, since he and Dowell launched into a similar unprompted discussion at the end of our first phone interview.

Dowell emphasized the importance of creating safe places for kids to play. The needs of children who are exposed to daily trauma are not being addressed. Instead, they bottle up their feelings, leading to behavioral problems, and, all too often, stints in juvenile prison.

Alvarado made a similar point when she emphasized that the details of her uncle’s death, and her subsequent struggle with mental illness and self–medication, were never discussed during her trial. In Dowell’s opinion, the government is uninterested in ameliorating these systemic inequities, failing to provide funding for prevention programs—such as trauma–informed mental health services—that could create change.

Fourteen surprisingly jam–packed minutes later, the robotic voice returned, this time informing us that there was one minute left on the call. A chorus of thank yous and goodbyes followed. Evans tells me he and Dowell always make sure to say goodbye and hang up before the system ends the call—a reclamation of agency and humanity in the heavily regimented criminal (in)justice system.

Although Evans doesn’t directly work with food in his position at the 215 People’s Alliance, he insists that, for him, it’s all connected. Food and advocacy are inextricably intertwined.

From Down North Pizza to the EMI dinner series to his work with J4A and the 215 People’s Alliance, Evans brings a uniquely creative and entrepreneurial energy to every project he touches. “He is tireless and he has a mission. … When I’m listening to the news, having a nervous breakdown, he’s just chugging along. He’s a positive force,” says Gager.

While the daunting nature of organizing may leave some people paralyzed, Evans says that his enduring passion for the cause is what motivates him. And by incorporating his love for food into much of his advocacy, Evans has managed to put his own creative spin on an ongoing, citywide fight for criminal justice reform.

The connection between food and social justice work might not seem particularly obvious at first glance, but sharing meals has the capacity to spark hope and camaraderie among people of all walks of life—and that’s what makes it essential to Evans’ mission.

“People may not drink coffee or tea, people may not drink liquor, but you can get people together over food,” Evans says. “Food is what brings people to the table.” ❋

Take It to the Streets What to Do in Philly This Month

This month: Haunted houses. Autumnal festivals. Story slams that are sure to be good, and stand–up comedy that isn’t.

Going to college in Philly, we’re so often bombarded—on social media and IRL—with seemingly endless options for how to spend our free time. So I’m delighted to announce that Street has done the hard part for you: We’ve rounded up what we think are the can’t–miss events for the month in one convenient place. If I’ve done my job right, there’ll be something in here for every one of our readers, no matter what you like to do with your weekends.

Walden Green

All Month: Halloween Nights @ Eastern State Penitentiary

Eastern State Penitentiary must’ve not heard the end of it when they canceled ‘Terror Behind the Walls’ last year. Because now they’ve returned with not one, not two, but five haunted houses to officially scare the shit out of you this go–round. Tickets from $34 (cheaper in groups), 7 p.m. to 10 p.m., closed on Mondays, Eastern State Penitentiary, 2027 Fairmount Ave. ————————————————————————————

Mondays in October: Open Mic Night @ Punch Line Philly

Last year’s Under the Button comedy night left me traumatized … and hungry for more. I want my stand–up with a bunch of talent and a big ol’ heaping of cringe, and there’s no better place to find both than open mic night. White men of the world, this is your time! 21+, two drink minimum, doors at 6 p.m., show at 7, Punch Line Philly, 33 E. Laurel St. ————————————————————————————

Oct. 2: Maude Latour @ The Foundry

Listening to a Maude Latour song is like having a chat with your best friend who’s also way cooler than you, and you’re a little afraid she could ruin your life if you crossed her. She’ll be bringing her city girl charm and immaculately rocked low–rise jeans to The Fillmore’s club–within–a–club. $23, 8 p.m., The Foundry, 1100 Canal St. ————————————————————————————

Oct. 4: The Moth StorySLAM: Grown @ World Cafe Live

This is required reading for anyone who watched Girls and built their personality on of it, who spent sleepless nights poring over that PowerPoint trying to figure out if Jack Antonoff actually cheated on Lena Dunham with Lorde. If not, you can always check out The Moth StorySLAM anyway—all adventurous women do. $17.50, doors at 6 p.m., stories at 7:30, World Cafe Live, 3025 Walnut St. ————————————————————————————

Oct. 7 + 21: The Rocky Horror Picture Show @ Landmark’s Ritz Five

It’ll be a science fiction, double feature kinda night when the best theater in the city screens this kinky, kooky, camp classic. This production will take “a different set of jaws” to a whole new level with a shadow cast performing along to the original movie. That’s a whole extra set of jaws! $15, 10 p.m., Ritz Five, 214 Walnut St. ————————————————————————————

Oct. 7 + 8: Brauhaus Schmitz Oktoberfest @ The Armory

Enjoyment mileage for an Oktoberfest celebration is going to vary significantly based on what kind of person you are (beer person or non–beer person). But what we can all agree on are the aesthetics of Oktoberfest: polka music, milkmaid braids, and plenty of bratwursts. It’s all about putting the hoe in lederhosen. 21+, $25, 23rd St. Armory, 22 S. 23rd St. ————————————————————————————

Oct. 9: Old City Fest

Apparently most Philly neighborhoods were dead set on scheduling their annual fall festivals for Oct. 1. Luckily, Old City gave us enough time to give everyone a heads up. Go out to eat, drink, be merry, and best of all, partake in assorted seasonal activities. Free, 11 a.m. to 6 p.m., N. 3rd and Arch streets. ————————————————————————————

Oct. 9: NexGen Music Festival @ W.O.W. Philly

The most fun part of this event, hosted by The Impossible Group, is that it’s extremely hard to tell what it is from the webpage. It definitely involves DJ sets, “giving back to the community,” and one extremely ugly poster design. As for the rest, you’ll just have to fuck around and find out. 21+, $16, doors at 8:30 p.m., show at 9, Warehouse on Watts, 923 N. Watts St. ————————————————————————————

Oct. 10–15: Philly Music Fest

For anyone who’s been meaning to dive headfirst into the Philly music scene, this is your best opportunity. Six days, 21 bands, six venues; you’ll be as well–versed and pretentious as a WXPN intern. Oh wait, that’s me, isn’t it? Anyway, go see Mannequin Pussy. Day tickets from $20 to $39, various locations. ————————————————————————————

Oct. 11: Sudan Archives @ World Cafe Live Music Hall

Over at the Stroffice, one of our favorite albums from 2022 has been Sudan Archives’ Natural Brown Prom Queen. It’s flirty, sexy, and experimental, and you can expect Brittany Parks to bring all of that energy to the stage. Our editor–in–chief Emily and I will

definitely be in the crowd. $20, doors at 7 p.m., show at 8, Music Hall at World Cafe Live, 3025 Walnut St. ————————————————————————————

Oct. 15: Philadelphia Street Food Festival @ Xfinity Live!

In a month full of festivals, one festival more. This new celebration of all things served out of a truck/on a stick/in a paper container feels so Philly it’s kind of crazy somebody didn’t think of it already. Catch me on the mechanical bull re–enacting Lady Gaga’s 2013 SXSW performance (read: throwing up). $10, 2 p.m. to 8 p.m., Xfinity Live!, 1100 Pattison Ave.

Oct. 16: Opening of Modigliani Up Close @ Barnes Foundation

Amedeo Clemente Modigliani’s women are just straight up stunning. Face: correct. Neck: correct. Body: correct. The things I would do to look like these ladies—but looking at them isn’t half bad either. $5 for students, Barnes Foundation, 2025 Benjamin Franklin Pkwy. ————————————————————————————

Oct. 20: Opening of Matisse in the 1930s @ Philadelphia Museum of Art

Two of my friends are planning to take edibles and go to this, and frankly, you’d be hard pressed to find a better artist to check out high than Matisse. Pro tip: The PMA does pay–what–you–want nights on Fridays from 5 p.m. to 8:45 p.m. $30, Philadelphia Museum of Art, 2600 Benjamin Franklin Pkwy. ————————————————————————————

Oct. 23: Philly Burger Brawl @ Xfinity Live!

This ain’t your middle school’s fight in the parking lot. The competitors are some of Philadelphia’s most illustrious restaurants, and their weapon of choice is a patty between two buns. Maybe if we’re lucky some actual hands will be thrown over the results. $50, 12 p.m., Xfinity Live!, 1100 Pattison Ave.

OOH-LA-LA

LOCAL, SEASONAL, SUSTAINABLE

Alice Choi

For Doc Pickle, Pickling Is More Than a Science. It’s a Labor of Love.

Originating 50 years ago in a basement, this third–generation pickle company has perfected its art and gained a cult Philly following in the process.

BY KIRA WANG

“W e call ourselves a ‘flea–tail’ pickle company,” says Josh Nadel, owner of Doc Pickle.

He’s not wrong. The company is known to Philadelphians as a humble stall in the Rittenhouse Square Farmers Market. Manned by a character affectionately known as “the Pickle Man,” Doc Pickle draws in loyal fans with the Pickle Man’s charm and keeps them coming back with their flavorful concoctions.

“We started doing the market about five years ago,” Nadel says of Doc Pickle’s cult Philly following, “and it’s become one of our best markets. People see us day in and day out. They love seeing us there.”

The secret behind the company’s famous pickles? Fresh packing. No pickle is canned or jarred—they’re immediately packed in barrels and then sold in quart containers to the general public. In addition to fresh packing, Doc Pickle utilizes natural fermentation, pickling cucumbers without vinegar so that they can “lacto–ferment,” creating probiotics and a more nutrient–packed pickle in the process. The company also ensures that its pickles are made with the highest quality produce, each cucumber being hand selected.

But Nadel remains humble about his multi–state–spanning business, bashfully saying, “I just try to focus on myself, really.” It’s clear that Doc Pickle is committed to pumping out a damn good pickle. But for Nadel, pickling is more than just business— it’s also deeply personal.

As a third–generation pickling company, the business was started by Nadel’s grandfather and his brother in their basement. Inspired by their Eastern European and Jewish heritage, Nadel’s grandfather “saw a need for pickles,” and began driving a truck to sell their goods in the Catskill Mountains’ bungalow colonies. After much success, he expanded the business into a small wholesale manufacturing plant, later passing on his business to his son—Nadel’s father. Twenty years ago, Nadel took over along with his brothers, leaving behind his business in the restaurant equipment supply industry.

Contrary to the impression that family–run businesses tear families apart, Nadel’s relationship with his brothers only became stronger throughout their years at Doc Pickle. While Nadel’s parents were initially reluctant to pass on the business due to troubles with the prior generation’s working relationship, he and his brothers have been brought together—all thanks to pickles.

As Nadel continues to elaborate on the dynamics of a multigenerational business, he suddenly pauses and briefly hangs up.

“That was just [my brothers] on the other line calling me. I thought it was a serious call, but it was really about nonsense,” he says. “[The business] allows us to be close— sometimes too close. But fortunately, it’s good because we can help each other out. If I need something and I’m in a bind, I know they’re there.”

Pickles were a large part of Nadel’s life, even when he was a kid. “My whole family is pickles,” he says. “It’s not like we ate pickles every day, but if we wanted some extra money on the weekends, [my dad] would be like, ‘We’re gonna sign up for a street fair in the city, and you guys can sell pickles.’”

This pro–pickle sentiment rings true even in the family’s youngest generation, with Nadel’s two daughters, ages 5 and 7, “eating sour pickles since they were six months old.” They also try their best to help out at the farmers’ markets. “My wife will bring them to the farmers’ market. They’ll jump behind the barrels and they’ll try their best to help wrap stuff up. They’ll help sell to the customers,” Nadel says, “but right now, they mostly just eat the pickles.”

Does Nadel plan on passing the business down to his daughters? He doesn’t know. “I don’t know how briney they want to get right now—they’re interested in makeup and dolls. My daughter is a great salesperson,” he says fondly. “I love the pickle business, but I feel like my daughters are destined for greater things.”

Throughout Nadel and his brothers’ tenure as owners of Doc Pickle, they’ve focused on bringing the business back to their roots while growing the company’s operations at the same time. As Doc Pickle thrives, they’ve expanded beyond cucumber pickles—they also pickle mushrooms, garlic, and other vegetables while also collaborating with businesses to serve up other delicacies like pickled pepper jam.

Surprisingly, Nadel’s favorite item on the company’s long list of goods isn’t a cucumber pickle at all: It’s “Mmmelish.” One of Doc Pickle’s most popular items, Mmmelish is a delightful combination of sauerkraut brined in horseradish pickle

brine, spicy brown mustard, sweet relish, and shaved horseradish pickles, meant to be served on burgers, hot dogs, sandwiches, or just eaten with a spoon.

Not only is Doc Pickle expanding its pickle horizons—it’s also growing nationally, offering up a pickle delivery service called “Dr. Pickle’s Brine Club,” where fans of the company can have their “pickle prescription dillivered” on a recurring basis every month. For those who live in North Jersey, where Doc Pickle is based, Nadel hand–delivers pickles once or twice a week—a testament to his love for the business.

In spite of the brothers’ business innovation, they aim to pay homage to their roots as well. Just like how their grandfather used to sell their pickles at farmers’ markets, Doc Pickle has stalls at over 30 markets per week, where they’re met with customers’ bright eyes and a shared love for briney goodness.

“When people come to the stand, they’re transformed back to the days when they were children,” Nadel says. “It’s like dipping their hands in magic brine. The smell of garlic hits them so thick that they have to brush it away from their faces.”

Nadel’s words are no exaggeration. As I make my way to Doc Pickle’s stand in Rittenhouse, I’m immediately greeted with a distinctly pungent, briney aroma that makes my mouth water. I’m greeted with a pickle pun (“They’re dill–icious!”) and grab a container of their half sours. Soaked in a lightly salted garlic brine with no vinegar, they’re just as light as they are tasty—not too sour and packed full of flavor.

After hearing Nadel’s sales pitch, I eye the Mmmelish and decide to pick up a jar. The punch of the mustard combined with the acidity of the sauerkraut, the heat of the pickles, and the sweetness of the relish make the combination almost addictive, especially when smeared on a grilled cheese. The condiment is sour, sweet, and spicy all at once, and I can see how easy it is to eat the entire jar in one sitting. The relish–mustard–sauerkraut combination clearly lived up to Nadel’s high praises.

But the quality of Doc Pickle’s products doesn’t just come from fresh ingredients or a fancy pickling process. It comes from years of thought and generations of Nadel’s family working together to perfect each recipe. Pickling clearly isn’t just a family hobby for the Nadels—it’s a labor of love that’s been refined over time so that each customer can revel in the pickle experience. k

Photo Courtesy of Doc Pickle Photo Courtesy of Doc Pickle

‘Eat with Your Ears First’: The Art of Restaurant Playlisting

How music affects your enjoyment of food, according to a restaurant owner and a neuroscientist.

BY KATE RATNER

Alice Choi

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