Spring 2011

penn appétit SP RI N G 2 0 1 1

THE

ITALIAN ISSUE

INTERVIEW WITH MARC VETRI 18

spring 2011

italianMARKET

it’s all mapped out 20 LOVE and TOMATO SAUCE 15

in the city

urbanFARMING 9

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seasonal ingredients

make for delicious meals Bon Appétit at Penn Dining is dedicated to providing food that is alive with flavor and prepared from scratch using authentic local and seasonal ingredients, which is why you will never find a rotating menu in our dining cafés. Visit one of our locations, and you’ll find our Executive Chefs provide an innovative cuisine at every meal, every day--not just burgers and pizza.

One of the many foods our chefs make from scratch every day is our soups. Create this delicious Cream of Asparagus soup on your own, or try some at Hill House!

Cream of Asparagus Soup Ingredients:

1/4 cup butter 1 onion, chopped 3 stalks celery, chopped 3 tablespoons flour 6 cups vegetable stock 1 potato, peeled and diced 1 pound of asparagus, trimmed and chopped 3/4 cup heavy cream 1 tablespoon soy sauce salt and pepper to taste

Directions:

Melt butter in a cooking pot. Add onions and chopped celery; saute until tender. Stir in flour, mix well and cook for 1 minute, stirring constantly. Add vegetable stock, and whisk until smooth. Bring to a boil. Add diced potatoes and chopped asparagus. Reduce heat, and simmer for about 20 minutes. Puree soup in a food processor or blender in batches. Return to pot.

Stir in the heavy cream, soy sauce, salt and pepper.

Bring soup just to boil.

Makes approximately 6 servings.

So the next time you’re hungry for something fresh, authentic and full of flavor, forget that expensive restaurant and see what’s cooking at one of our dining cafés!

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LETTER FROM THE EDITOR Dear readers and eaters,

penn appétit E D I TO R - I N - CH I E F D E S I G N E D I TO R S P H OTO E D I TO R S B LO G E D I TO R S P U B L I CI T Y M A NAG E R S

While compiling this issue, I had a substantial revelation: nothing has contributed as consistently to my happiness in life as food. Whether it’s the slow crescendo of anticipation months before a dinner at Vetri, or the small pops of elation that come from eating my favorite lunch on campus each day, food is a constant and dependable source of pleasure.

But food is far more than just that. It can be one’s livelihood, a means for parents to connect with children or a way to carry on generations-old traditions. It delivers enjoyment through cooking, eating and even analyzing; I’ve found that discussing or writing about a meal can be almost as pleasurable as experiencing it.

In this issue, then, we’ve tried to capture the euphoria surrounding food in as many ways as possible, covering people who are passionate about what they grow, what they cook and what they eat. Take Marc Vetri, America’s foremost Italian chef, whose interview appears on page 18. He has been in restaurants since age twelve, and his hard work has gained him major prominence and success. Or consider the Penn students who told us their favorite dishes to eat, which, with the recipes on page 28, you can replicate at home.

And learn about the farmers at Greensgrow urban farm, profiled on page 12, who work tirelessly to keep food local, sustainable and of the highest quality.

These pages also have their share of lighter articles, like those covering food trends, with unique burger toppings explored on page 22 and Korean tacos on page 24. And perfectly coinciding with our warmer weather, refreshing summer treats dominate the last few pages of the magazine; Philadelphia mainstay Franklin Fountain is profiled on page 36, and discussions of both old-school water ice and new-age liquid nitrogen ice cream can be found on page 38.

This is our longest issue ever, and everyone who’s contributed to it is eager for you to enjoy. Welcome, and good eating.

Cheers,

BU S I N E S S M A NAG E R S TREASURER G E N E R A L B OA R D

A l ex M a rcu s E l l e n A maral Jac l y n Ch en M a g g i e Ed kin s C h r i s t i a n a H ay M ad e l i n e Miller K i l ey B en se E l l i o t t Bro o ks Rach e l Marcu s E r i c Yo sh id a C ady C hen S aman t h a Meskin A l ex B rown st ein Ju l i a B rown st ein Yo u n g J i Kim E e s h a Sard esai

B U S I N E S S S TA F F

S o h e e Ch a B e t h e l Ch an Je s s i c a Ch u n g B e c c a G o ld st ein A l ex a Ko ike P h e o b e L iu E l i s ave t a Marsova Ju l i e U lrich B e n Yan g

E D I TO R I A L S TA F F

K i l ey B en se Ye n a H o n g E e s h a Sared esai Te a g an Sch weit zer S am S ch n it t man Je n ny Xia

P H O TO S TA F F

Ro h u n B an sal M e l o dy Ch ian g M i ch ael Ch ien S i k a G asinu Jo h n ny Sch aefer Je n n i fer Su n

D E S I G N S TA F F

M e l any B ar r E r i n B ecks A l i n a Esq u en azi S t ac ey To selan d A s h l ey Welch

Penn Appétit is the University of Pennsylvania’s innovative, student-run magazine covering all things food. We publish one hard copy issue each semester and have a blog that’s updated daily.

To inquire about advertising, collaborating or getting involved, email us at pennappetit@gmail.com. We are always looking for new contributors in writing, photo, layout and business.

Cover Photo by Christiana Hay Contents Photo by Jennifer Sun

Alex Marcus Editor-in-Chief

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3711 market street, philadelphia. 215.386.3711 midatlanticrestaurant.com DanielSternRestaurants.com check us out

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for new draft beers + drink specials,

live entertainment + more!

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CONTENTS SPRING 2011

Italian food is the center of this issue. The heart and soul of Philadelphia’s food scene, this cuisine is deeply rooted in tradition but also subject to reimagination by innovative chefs. We’ve explored the old and the new, painting a multi-faceted picture of this dynamic cuisine and the vibrant culture surrounding it.

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PASTA PRIMER making the perfect pasta sauce is all about love

17

DISCOVERING GNOCCHI there’s a lot to appreciate about this versatile dish

18

INTERVIEW WITH MARC VETRI a candid discussion with the prominent chef

20

ITALIAN MARKET penn appétit’s guide to the philadelphia mainstay

spring 2011

local

international

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FOOD URBANISM greensgrow farm in north philly sets the example for simple, sustainable food systems

26

I’LL SEE YOU AT CARMAN’S creative brunch food and plenty of sass—just another day at carman’s country kitchen

28

FAVORITE PHILLY RECIPES make these favorites at home with recipes direct from the restaurants where they’re served

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FRANKLIN FOUNTAIN & SHANE CANDIES learn more about these oldtime purveyors of distinctly philadelphian treats

narrative

12

HOW I TAUGHT MYSELF TO COOK one girl’s journey from family cooking curse to master of her kitchen

33

WORKING HARD FOR THE MONEY a glimpse into the restaurant industry, from a student’s perspective

14

DECONSTRUCTING CHAI the popular chai latte comes from simple beginnings as a tasty indian mainstay

30

FLATTEN IT OUT nearly every culture has a unique and tasty variation on the thin pancake

32

THERE’S SOMETHIN’ ‘BOUT PORK BELLY this decadent cut is just as tasty in trendy new preparations as in classic chinese ones

food trends

22

BURGER REVOLUTION a new generation of outrageous toppings are reinventing the american classic

24

DELICIOUSLY CONTRADICTORY tasty korean tacos meld two distinct food cultures, with scrumptious results

38

WATER ICE & LIQUID NITROGEN ICE CREAM a longstanding tradition and a futuristic take on classic summer snacks penn appétit

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the art of old world baking Send gifts nationwide from www.metropolitanbakery.com!

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FOOD 411

A round-up of local food events, personalities and best bites Contributors: Kiley Bense, Jaclyn Chen, Alex Marcus, Nicole Woon

Brewer’s Plate Brewer’s Plate is the annual fundraiser of FAIR FOOD, an local organization that partners farms with nearby restaurants in an effort to facilitate sustainable, humane agricultural and eating practices. To food nerds like us, the event was star-studded, featuring some of Philly’s biggest chefs.

Beer pairing was the order of the day—with an emphasis on local breweries and ingredients—and over 60 purveyors showcased their unique food and drinks. Culinary highlights included KESWICK CREAMERY’s supertangy quark, perfectly balanced basil chocolate squares from Éclat and bright and rich tofu ceviche from CANTINA DOS SEGUNDOS, served on a shrimp cracker and dusted with spicy peanuts. Our favorite beers were bitter Hop Devil from VICTORY and PRISM’s Love is Evol, brewed with strawberries and jalapenos. The brown ale defied our expectation that it would taste mostly sweet with lingering heat, instead hitting our palates with sharp jalapeno flavor that slowly gave way to a rich, full fruitiness.

We were less impressed with JG DOMESTIC’s potted duck, which was underseasoned and didn’t pair well with more assertive Nugget Nectar from TROEGS. Another miss came from BIBA, whose goat cheese and beet jam crostini lacked beet flavor and was served on stale bread, but the campus wine bar made up for it with a lovely gouda, whose sharpness held up well to the richness of DOCK STREET’s Russian Imperial Stout.

The dish that had everyone talking, though, was the bacon grease popcorn from KHYBER PASS PUB. Drizzled with pork fat and tossed in spices, the kernels had a smooth, rich flavor with a delectable smokiness and a salty kick. By the end of the night, most attendees were a tad past tipsy and running back to Khyber’s table for thirds, fourths and fifths of popcorn. So everyone certainly had a good time, but more importantly, the event made the concept of eating and drinking locally more exciting than we ever thought it could be.

March 13, 2 011

The mild flavor and smooth texture of the Abbaye’s rabbit pate paired well with Lancaster Brewing Company’s Amish Ale.

3 Questions

with Evan and Marcie Turney

We got a chance to talk beer, eating local and sibling rivalry with Evan and Marcie Turney. He’s executive chef at Varga Bar and a veteran of Valanni and Mercato; she’s executive chef at Barbuzzo, Lolita and Bindi.

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How do you source locally, and what are benefits and costs of doing it?

Marcie Turney: We do local meat, local vegetables.

Lancaster Co-Op is growing stuff for us this year. They represent 60 different farms, from 20 acres to the size of a city block. It is a little more expensive...

Evan Turney: But it’s a better product in the end.

MT: And people are willing to pay for that. It’s also helpful to utilize cuts that are inexpensive, as long as you know what to do with them. Like the pig popcorn at Barbuzzo, we make with pig skin. That helps with bringing local food to the table at a great price point.

ET: We use organic turkey, ribeye and salad greens from Blue Moon Farms.

When vegetables aren’t around—that’s spring 2011

the downside of sourcing like this. But you jump on whatever the farms are producing in a given time of year.

2

Beer pairing is getting more in vogue. Can you talk about your thoughts on it, and on how different beers can enhance a meal?

MT: Each month we alternate with a wine dinner and a beer dinner, and we pair foods with the different beers.

Evan’s got like 19 taps at Varga, and I know he uses it to cook a bunch of dishes.

ET: It’s basically substituted in a recipe as a liquid, and it doesn’t have a huge effect on the end product. You taste a little hint of it towards the end, which is awesome. I particularly like beers with coffee or espresso; they go great with chocolate, even in ice cream, or you can even braise meats in them.

3

How did both of you end up in such similar career paths?

And now that you have, is there rivalry between you?

ET: Well, our mom always cooked spam, and our dad would line up cloves on top, like soldiers. She could also cook evaporated milk, so that was pretty cool. And Slim-Fast.

MT: But our grandfather owned a supper club in Wisconsin, so I think it just skipped a generation. Neither of us knew we wanted to cook, though. I took a job at Judy’s years ago because I wanted to be a waitress, of all things, but all they had was a job doing salad.

That made me decide to go to the Restaurant School. Then Evan turned 18 and got in a little ‘young man trouble.’ I got a call from him one day saying, “Come and get me!” so I got a U-Haul and went to get him, and he came on as a dishwasher.

ET: At that point, I realized it was time I do something serious. So once I learned how to boil water, I never looked back. I started out as a garde manger guy, worked my way up to sous chef, and then I went to school...

MT: And handed in my senior project, which I hadn’t used because I never graduated.

ET: She passed it down to me and I changed a couple things—like the name. I got an A­­−. So, not much sibling rivalry. We’re like best friends, honestly.

MT: But we can fight. If you really want us to.

ET: Let’s mud wrestle. [Points to fountain] I’ll do a cannonball in there for a certain amount of money. penn appétit

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FOOD 411 Best Thing We’ve Eaten This Semester KOJA’S OKI BULG PORK

We asked our staff for the tastiest thing they’ve tried while working on this issue.

Our palettes are all strikingly different, but good food is the way to all of our hearts.

CHEN’S PUB & KIT A POT SNAILS IN

KABUL’ ICE CREAM WIT S H SAFFRON SYRUP & ROSE WATER

Alex Marcus (Editor-in-Chief)

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Kiley Bense (Blog Editor)

I consider myself to be a pretty adventurous eater (Chinese cuisine has introduced me to most parts of most animals), but for some reason my palette finds many French delicacies disagreeable. So when my friend suggested that we order the Snails in a Pot at Pub and Kitchen, I was skeptical, but my try-itout mantra made me agree.

Snails in a Pot is a homey, unpretentious re-imagining of the French classic escargot. Unlike most delicacies, which I often force down because I think I’m supposed to like the taste, I actually enjoyed eating this—a lot. The snails are stewed with lentils in a red wine herb butter, though the red wine only comes through subtly in the final product, with garlic and herbs taking front and center. Pub and Kitchen doesn’t typically supply bread, but we requested a heaping portion to soak up the extra broth left in the pot. Texturally, the combination of snails and firm lentils created the perfect contrast, and the savory broth generously flowed out of the mollusks with each bite. Moreover, the common complaint that snails are too chewy was irrelevant here, as the slow cooking process made them extremely tender.

What made Snails in a Pot special enough to get past my anti-delicacy attitude was their unassuming, homey preparation and the rich, familiar flavors that came with that. I’m not rushing out to try escargot any time soon, but I would happily repeat this dish many, many times.

Jaclyn Chen (Design Editor)

Food Aficionados Unite!

We recently discovered the most exciting new club at Penn since, well, Penn Appétit. It’s called Penn Gastronomy Club (PGC for short), and has hit the ground running with thrilling, high-profile events for foodies at Penn.

The club has hosted discounted dinners at popular restaurants and cool on-campus events like a “Sugar High” dessert competition. Most notable, though, are the opportunities it offers to learn more about how food is made, cooked and served, like an exclusive brewery tour and dinner at Dock Street, sushi-making classes at Pod and wine and cheese tastings at Biba.

PGC caught the attention of the whole campus with its “Taste of Philly’s Finest” event this winter, featuring Next Food Network Star judge Susie Fogelson and free food from some of the city’s most prominent restaurants. It drew 500 interested students, putting the club on the map.

According to Nicole Woon, PGC’s chair of event planning, the club plans ever more exciting outings in the future. And, like Penn Appétit, Penn Gastronomy maintains a daily updated blog (replete with plenty of food porn) at www.penngastronomyclub.com.

PHOTO BY CHRISTIANA HAY FO R PGC

KoJa’s Pork Bulgoki is nothing short of revelatory. Crunchy cabbage, sweet sautéed onions and the occasional sliver of smoky, charred red pepper combine with rich slices of pork, thin enough to stay tender but thick enough to retain a meaty taste.

The combination gets smothered in a dark, thin sauce that conducts a lovely balancing act: it’s got serious heat in every bite, but the delectable sweetness of a perfect bulgoki marinade always shines through. Red specks of chili flakes are scattered throughout, and the stir-fry is topped with sesame seeds, which have had decadent flavor teased out through toasting.

It’s served alongside a huge hunk of rice, slightly, but perfectly, overcooked—just enough so it stays bound in tender, sticky chunks when you break some off to sop up the delicious sauce.

KoJa is fusion without the pretension—and at six bucks a plate, which’ll only get you as far as edamame at Pod. Sure, these aren’t organic, local veggies, but they taste plenty fresh. And yeah, some slices of pork are a tad less than lean, but since when is pig fat an enemy?

By the end of the meal, your lips are tingling and your taste buds thanking you, trying to hold on to every residual drop of the dish’s sweet-hot sauce that they can.

Honey lemonade—the truck’s sporadically offered warm-weather specialty—perfectly tempers the heat from the dish. (If it’s not available, iced green tea with honey from Metropolitan Bakery makes for a worthy stand-in.)

Because I’m obsessed with all things sugary, I almost always order dessert when I eat out. And when it comes to after-dinner treats, there’s no better choice than saltysavory married to sweet. The salt lends a new dimension to the flavors, making them richer and more complex.

In Philly, one of my favorite examples of the genre is the Afghan ice cream served at Kabul in Olde City.

Called Sheer-E Yakh, it’s inexpensive and delicious: finely crumbled almonds and pistachio nuts, saffron syrup and cardamom atop vanilla ice cream that’s been bathed in rosewater. For just $5 you can revel in its colors and flavors, and then try to stop yourself from ordering a second one.

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LOCAL

food ur•ban•ism [food ur-buh-niz-uhm], noun the way food is grown in a city and how it impacts the local culture, economy and environment Located in North Philly, Greensgrow Farm makes its mark as an urban agriculture pioneer

BY JENNY CHEN PHOTOS BY MAGGIE EDKINS spring 2011

Bruce Darrell, the co-founder of the Dublin Food Growing Initiative, recently coined the term “food urbanism.” The concept explores both the way food is grown in a city and how it impacts a local culture, economy and environment. Darrell argues that until a concept has a label like “food urbanism,” it does not exist as a debatable issue. In the field of urban studies, food is often left out of the conversation, but many of the environmental and social issues faced by cities might be resolved by bringing food into the discussion on urban planning and structure.

Today, Greensgrow Farm in North Philadelphia is one of many organizations examining solutions to the city’s food problems; thirteen years ago, it was a pioneer in the urban agriculture movement.

Founders Mary Seton Corboy and Tom Sereduk established the oneacre farm on an abandoned lot in Kensington, an old working-class community in North Philadelphia that could have easily turned into penn appétit

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The Greater Philadelphia Chamber of Commerce recently voted Greensgrow the 2011 Sustainable Business of the Year.

The farm’s one-acre lot encompasses a plant nursery, a farm stand and plenty of growing space for local, sustainable agriculture.

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a food desert—an area whose residents have no access to fresh groceries and must rely on the processed and unhealthy options at convenience stores. The farm, though, offered educational and community outreach programs, presenting an alternative food system that could cut down on obesity and other health issues.

Initially, though, Greensgrow’s goals were strictly business-oriented. Ms. Corboy helped establish the farm in 1998 with hopes to grow lettuce to sell to Philadelphia restaurants. She did not expect to become an important force in Kensington’s food urbanism movement. Corboy laughs as she recalls how community members first reacted to her hydroponically-grown lettuce; she was called “crazy” for cultivating such small plants. But changing the neighbors’ skeptical attitude proved to be both a challenge and an opportunity for the farm’s staff.

Ryan Kuck, a Penn alumnus (’03) and farmer at Greensgrow, explains that while most Kensington residents know of the farm, quite a few don’t understand what it does.

He has been aiming to raise awareness and community impact by finding out “what works for Philadelphia, for our neighborhood and for our block.” A plant nursery, for example, was established as a direct response to the community’s requests and is one way Greensgrow is trying to get its neighbors interested in healthy, local food. Moreover, five hundred families in the area are currently involved in the farm’s low-income CSA (Community Supported Agriculture) program. And in season, the local farm stand sells fresh produce and dairy from family farms in Delaware County, New Jersey and Lancaster County.

Greensgrow also tries to institute programs that serve as models for other urban farms. This year, it established the Kensington Kitchen Space (KKS), located a few blocks from the farm in St. Michael’s Lutheran Church. It’s an open cooking space intended to help local entrepreneurs get new, food-related businesses off the groung. On site, the farm has improved sustainability with a biodiesel processor, green roofs and aquaponic growing systems that symbiotically link plant and marine life.

While Greensgrow is an Greensgrow is commendable not only admirable model for a new food for the sustainable food system model it supports, but also for its community system, its impact on the entire engagement; after all, its impact on the city’s relationship with food city’s relationship with food is wholly contingent on community participation. depends heavily upon community Fortunately, Greensgrow’s programs have participation caught on, allowing the farm to expand its offerings considerably. And its reach extends even beyond the local restaurants and families it supplies with fresh produce-—the farm encourages neighbors to purchase plants and create their own food gardens, further reducing the costs and enhancing the sustainability, quality and healthfulness of the food that many Philadelphians eat.

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F L E S Y M T H G U A T I HOW K O O C TO ...(OR, HOW I DEFIED TWO GENERATIONS OF BAD DINNERS)

B Y K IL E Y BENSE P H OTO S

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B Y C H R IS T IA N

A H AY pennappetit.com

NARRATIVE

When I was sixteen, a cosmic shift occurred in my household. My mother sat me down and told me that for the foreseeable future I’d be taking on a new responsibility:

the planning and preparation of dinner.

I come from a long line of bad cooks. My grandmother served the same bland pot roast every Sunday for nearly 30 years, and that’s to say nothing of her infamous peanut butter and liverwurst sandwiches. My dad’s been known to slap a cold hunk of packaged American cheese between two pieces of white bread, spread ketchup all over it and call it lunch. Even holiday dinners with my large IrishCatholic family center around cold turkey, lumpy mashed potatoes and forlorn-looking vegetables straight from the frozen foods aisle.

This is not to say that I resent my relatives for the lack of notable homemade food in my life. My parents both work full time, so it’s really a kind of mini-miracle that there was always any meal on our table at 6 o’clock. Still, I’ve often wished for a culinary heritage to call my own. Others have memories of afternoons learning to season and measure at grandma’s knee, or of that beloved recipe with the power to conjure comfort in one bite. I’ve got corned beef, boiled cabbage and no instruction whatsoever.

So hearing my mom’s declaration was a little like standing on a precipice, an unknown world of ingredients and labels and confusing utensils looming before me. I’d done some cooking before, but my repertoire was mostly limited to cookies, mix-made brownies and pasta. So now, where to begin?

I started with lists. There were recipe lists (one for each week), shopping lists, allergy and preference lists. Better Homes and Gardens became my bible. It was a good beginner’s cookbook, listing step-by-step instructions with photographs, easy directions and helpful charts and tips. The first few days were difficult, especially since I found dealing with raw meat a less than enticing prospect. I

burned, I over-salted and I otherwise ruined more than one meal.

There were the stuffed shells that emerged from the oven stiff and crunchy. The seafood pasta recipe that tasted like day-old clams. The time I left chicken defrosting unattended on the counter and my cat clawed through the plastic wrap, eating half of it before she was caught.

What I discovered, though, is that cooking was nowhere near as difficult as I’d imagined. Soon I felt comfortable enough to diverge from a recipe’s hard and fast commands. And all of a sudden, making dinner became a creative endeavor.

With my responsibilities came newfound power and independence. Since I did all the grocery shopping, I controlled not only the dinner menu, but also all snack and breakfast cereal selections. We ate more fresh vegetables and homemade soup. One of my favorite recipes was for a Thai chicken stir-fry. Relatively simple to put together, it was delicious and, best of all, filled the kitchen with the smell of ginger. I loved making chicken with apples and carrots tucked around it, drizzled with curry-mustard sauce and chopped onion. Then there were the things I came back to again and again, because they were tasty and easy: roasted potatoes with olive oil and paprika; light, eggy popovers; pasta with asparagus and cream sauce.

I firmly believe that anyone can learn to cook, no matter the circumstances. All you need is a cookbook, attention to detail and a willingness to persevere in the face of failure. With a little time and effort (family culinary curses notwithstanding), you can cook your way to confidence.

I’d done some t cooking before, bu my reper toire was mostly limited to e cookies, mix-mad ta. brownies and pas So now, where to begin?

RECIPES

See p.39 for Kiley’s Thai chicken stir fry

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INTERNATIONAL

RECIPES

See p.39 for Eesha’s ginger masala chai

deconstructing CHAI

BY EESHA SARDESAI PHOTOS BY MAGGIE EDKINS

“I’d like a chai latte, please.”

I said the words with a mixture of excitement and trepidation; a self-proclaimed chai connoisseur, I had spent the past few years avoiding the riffs on the beverage that had spread like wildfire to coffee shops across the country. But it was now my first semester of college, and it seemed as good a time as any to push past my long-held skepticism and sample this latest rage in café beverages.

A few minutes later, a barista appeared with my order. I hesitated, eyeing the cloud of whipped cream adorning the drink, and then took a sip.

The latte was milky, with plenty of sweetness and strong hints of vanilla and cinnamon. It was actually quite good, and the whipped cream complemented it well—but it wasn’t chai. At least, it wasn’t chai as I knew it.

When most people think of chai, images of an aromatic, spiced tea come to mind. In reality though, the Hindi, Gujarati or Marathi word “chai” simply means “tea.” The most basic, traditional chai, then, refers to a simple, boiled tea with milk and sugar. The spicy tea that we have come to associate with this word is technically known as “masala chai,” with “masala” referring to the spice blend that is steeped in the tea. In the case of the chai latte that I had purchased, the name meant that the steamed milk was flavored with a spiced tea concentrate in place of a traditional latte’s espresso. “Chai tea,” meanwhile,

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is simply a redundant phrase (literally translating to “tea tea”) that many coffee shops in the United States use to refer to masala chai.

Growing up in an Indian household, I was lucky enough to begin most of my mornings in high school with a tall, steaming mug of my mom’s freshly brewed ginger masala chai. She used a fiercely traditional recipe, and one sip would bring back memories of roaming noisy, sun-soaked and riotously colorful streets of Mumbai. Dotting these roads were vendors of foodstuffs ranging from barely ripened mangoes to fried-to-order banana chips to hot, milky and ever-glorious chai.

The key to a traditional masala chai lies in its simplicity. Versions in the States tend to take the opposite approach, and are consequently over loaded with spices and flavorings. For me, however, masala chai is characterized by the depth and elegance of flavor that comes from steeping only one or two strong spices in the tea. The predominant spice used in chai varies depending on what region—or even what household—one is visiting in India; typical choices include green cardamom, ginger, cloves, black peppercorns or nutmeg. Nowadays, pinches of store-bought “chai masala” (typically containing cardamom, cinnamon, cloves, dried ginger and black pepper) are also added to further strengthen the flavor of the beverage, though never in place of a fresh spice.

The pungency of the fresh spices must be complemented by an equally robust tea.

Traditional recipes thus call for black teas (such as Assam), as they have the strength to hold up to the spice, but are simple enough that they don’t overpower it. Splash that combination with a healthy dose of milk and a little sugar, honey or jaggery, and you’ll be in masala chai heaven.

After my first chai latte experience, I spent a lot of my time trying to find a coffee house chai in Philly that at least somewhat resembled the comforting drink I yearned for. My search wasn’t entirely fruitless; I came across quite a few tasty chais featuring components as nontraditional as vanilla or agave nectar. But for that divine flavor of modest simplicity, of powerful, singing ginger that warms the core, I have no choice but to turn to my mom’s recipe.

NOTABLE CHAI-INFLUENCED BEVERAGES IN PHILADELPHIA SITAR INDIA Masala Tea: Darjeeling tea infused with cardamom and cinnamon 60 S. 38th Street 215-662-0818 MAX BRENNER Chocolate Chai: A blend of ‘chai spice’ tea and hot white chocolate truffle 1500 Walnut Street 215-344-8150 GRINDCORE HOUSE Vanilla Chai Latte: A vanillasuffused chai, with vegan dairy alternatives 1515 S. 4th Street 215-839-3333 GLEANER CAFÉ GALLERY Iced Chai Latte: A refreshing version of the drink for hot days 917 S. 9th Street 215-923-3205 T BAR Chai Latte: A milky chai blended with honey and cinnamon 117 S. 12th Street 215-625-3936

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ITALIAN

From red sauce and checkered tablecloths to Philadelphia’s foremost chef, we’ve got Italian food covered.

PASTA PRIMER

a step-by-step guide

BY SEAN WHITEMAN, PHOTOS BY CHRISTIANA HAY Three years ago I married a woman who, despite being named Renee, came from a family with deep roots in the Abruzzo region of Italy. Of course, three years ago I was still drowning overcooked noodles in sugary pasta sauce I’d bought at the grocery store. I quickly saw the error of my ways, and the two of us arrived at spring 2011

a pleasant division of labor: I uncorked the red wine, and she made the sauce. But over time curiosity got the best of me, and I started paying attention to my wife’s time-honored techniques and personal twists. Here’s what I’ve learned.

Start with Rienzi tomato paste. This is important: the paste is the soul of the sauce and, penn appétit

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INGREDIENTS FOR DEL PIZZO FAMILY PASTA SAUCE serves 6-10

1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil 6 cloves garlic, crushed 1 medium yellow onion, chopped 6 oz can of tomato paste 28 oz can of crushed tomatoes Pinch of red pepper flakes 1 tsp dried oregano 2 tsp dried basil 1 tsp dried parsley Salt, pepper and garlic powder to taste

serve with 2 lbs pasta

P HOTO BY MIKE CHI E N ILLUS TRATIO NS BY MAGGIE E D KINS

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like souls, the cheap ones are bitter. If you can’t find Rienzi, buy a few different options to taste— getting the ingredient right is worth the one-time investment. “You should be able to eat it off the spoon,” Renee says, and it should taste like the darkest, richest part of a tomato.

Salt the pasta water. “In Abruzzo there are mountains and oceans. But my family is from the mountains, so we salt the water.” Traditionally this raises the boiling point a few degrees to compensate for the altitude. More importantly, as the salty water cooks in, it balances out the natural starch and prepares the pasta to absorb the flavor of your sauce. The Abbruzzese dialect has a word for pasta cooked in unsalted water: “sciapito.” Literally: “insipid, and without taste.”

According to Renee, there’s no worse sin in Italian cooking—or life. As in, “he’s a nice guy, but a little sciapito.”

Add just enough olive oil to coat the bottom of your sauce pot, then add another dash. Toss in the red paper flakes now, to infuse the oil

Sean and Renee Whiteman prepare pasta sauce according to her family’s time-honored recipe.

with a little spice. When the red pepper starts to sizzle, the oil is hot enough for the garlic—but be careful not to burn it. “Golden brown is ok,” Renee explains, “dark brown is not.” Having the onions chopped and ready to go can avert disaster; toss them in once the garlic is just right.

Once the onions are simmering gently, it’s a good time to refill your wine glass. They should cook until they’re translucent and soft under the spoon. Says Renee: “No one likes a sauce with crunchy onions.” If you have to add a little oil to keep them from drying out, that’s fine. “But remember, you’re not making olive oil soup.”

Adding the tomato paste is a crucial moment, so put down the wine glass. “This is the easiest time to burn the sauce, because there’s not a lot of moisture,” she says. As the paste and the spices mix together with the garlic and the onions, for the first time you’ll really be able to smell what you’re cooking. Anyone in range will start to wander towards the kitchen.

Have your first taste after you add the crushed tomato and water, so you have an idea where you’re starting. At this point, “you can taste all the flavors, but they’re still separate,” says Renee. Taste again every five minutes or so, in small amounts, as though you’re sipping wine.

The sauce will feel different in your mouth as it reduces, and the thin flavor of raw tomatoes rounds out and softens. Like a young wine aging in the bottle, the body of the sauce improves and the flavors bind together—but over minutes, rather than years.

While the sauce simmers, you have a free hand to add basil, parsley, or oregano as you like.

To decide what you need (or want) to add, hold the spice over the pot with one hand and waft some of the steam towards you with the other, letting the scents combine. One tip: if the sauce is nearly finished reducing and you can still “taste the ingredients” separately, a little more salt will pull the flavors together. But no need to rush—you can’t take it out if you add too much, and it’s the one spice that can be added late in the process with no harm done.

After the pasta is cooked (al dente, of course) avoid the cardinal sin of rinsing it in cold water.

You’ve got to get the sauce on the pasta while it’s still hot for the noodles to absorb the flavor.

Finally: wait. Drink more wine if you have to, or go hunt around the fridge for some hard Italian cheese (pecorino is underrated, and a nice alternative to ubiquitous grated parmesan). Give the pasta five minutes to soak up the sauce and you will have achieved the alchemy of starch into flavor that one Italian family has been perfecting for generations. pennappetit.com

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DISCOVERING

gnocchi

RECIPES

See p.39 for Shannon’s gnocchi

BY SHANNON RIDGE, PHOTOS BY JENNIFER SUN

Philly is a haven for great Italian cuisine, but when eating out here, I always disappoint myself by ordering a penne or spaghetti dish that I could have replicated at home for pennies on the dollar. So recently, I started to order gnocchi, which I couldn’t make quite so easily on my own.

I’ve already had a bunch of variations and, although it isn’t among the city’s Italian restaurant royalty, La Fontana Della Citta offered the most heavenly rendition: little pillows of dough, perfectly soft and subtly seasoned, covered in a thick, red sauce.

The dish got me thinking about gnocchi and the connotations attached; it seemed more shrouded in more mystery than most other Italian foods. A quick search online revealed that the dumplings date back to Roman times, when they were made with a semolina-based dough, and have only been made from potato—now their most common base—since the 16th century.

But I wanted to learn more, to truly experience gnocchi, from the inital measurement to the final bite, so I decided to return to La Fontana to learn how they made their delicious rendition. After attempting to call to set up a meeting, and confusing a man with a heavy Italian spring 2011

accent, I showed up around lunchtime in the hopes of finding someone who was generous with his or her time. Luckily, the first man I approached, Gani Daku, was happy to talk with me about his restaurant and their gnocchi. Daku proudly told me that their gnocchi recipe was very simple. They boil Idaho potatoes, mash them with salt, pepper, parsley, egg, extra virgin olive oil and flour, then roll them into small dumplings and poach them. He demonstrated their process at every step, and proudly presented me with a steaming plate of delicious, perfectly tender gnocchi at the end.

With inspiration and a basic plan, I tried a handful of different recipes, and came up with some rather useful conclusions. First, there was the question of whether to boil or bake the potatoes. I tried both. Despite Gani’s recommendation to boil the potatoes, baking yielded better results. Boiling the potatoes left them overly moist, requiring more flour, which began to dilute the flavor; they also started to turn gray more quickly.

There was also the question of whether to use eggs or egg yolks. I came to the conclusion that whole eggs worked better.

The yolks made the mixture too dense.

Another question was whether to mash or grate the potatoes. After seeing how little fruit my labor yielded while mashing, I gave up and turned to a grater.

Choosing spices and additional ingredients left room for more creativity.

I made one batch of gnocchi using Gani’s recommendation of parsley, salt and pepper and made additional batches experimenting with other ingredients, such as Parmesan cheese and nutmeg.

Finally, I had to choose whether or not to add the traditional ridges to my dumplings. I read that the indentations would help them cook faster and hold the sauce better when served. However, I found the texture of the smooth gnocchi to be more appealing.

Ultimately, I discovered that the making of gnocchi is hard work. During my day in the kitchen I felt the effects a steep learning curve. I overcooked many potatoes, created several questionable flavor combinations and ended up with a few too many pieces of gnocchi of less-than-appealing consistency.

Fortunately, I came up with a simple and very tasty recipe and can now proudly make gnocchi with ease. penn appétit

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interview with

BY MOLLY O’NEILL PHOTOS BY MADELINE MILLER

MARCVETRI

Since opening the venerable Vetri in 1998, chef Marc Vetri has been quietly picking up steam. He waited nearly ten years before opening Osteria, an airy rustic space with a seasonal menu focused on wood-grilled pizzas, meats and fish and homemade pastas. Three years later, in 2010, Vetri opened the hip Amis, which features impeccable pastas and Roman-influenced small plates in a bold, industrial setting. Now, he is developing a fourth space on North Broad; details are hush-hush but it’s being labeled an “Italian Gastropub.”

This morning, in his orange fleece jacket and boots, Vetri looks more like a hiker than a chef—perhaps not such a surprise for a man so devoted to proper ingredient sourcing. He is slight of build and soft-spoken, with light brown eyes that convey intense concentration. He speaks without hesitation on the topics of Italian cooking, respect for food and what it means to be a real chef.

This is a man who knows where he stands.

There’s a general conception of Italian food as red sauce and noodles, cheese and meatballs; how do your tightly crafted plates fit into that idea?

Marc Vetri: That’s South Philly Italian, and there’s nothing wrong with it. Real Italian is like anything else: you make food that is regional. When I lived in Italy, if I was working up in the mountains, they had a lot of mountain vegetables, mountain animals in their cuisine. And yet when I was in the south of Italy, there were lemons and olives, and all this stuff that was indigenous to that area. And then it has everything to do with the actual preparation of it, which is always to highlight the ingredient and not to mask it with tons of other flavors. That’s real Italian cooking.

Speaking of ingredients, there are a lot of heavy trends right now in local food, organics, sustainability. You don’t really mention your sources on your menus....

Well, because that’s just natural; that’s what you ought to be doing. You shouldn’t be highlighting the obvious, you know.

It’s my job as a chef to respect the environment, to use local, and to be as aware as I’m able to. I don’t write about it and tout that that’s what I do, because that’s what you ought to do. You’re doing your job.

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At Osteria last night, there were many different pig parts available—tails, head, whole roasted baby pig. Do you feel that it’s important to use every part of an animal?

Either you use them or you throw them out. We like to order whole animals so the cooks can learn about butchering and using everything. Waste is no good. Restaurants don’t really teach this anymore so I think it’s important that we do.

So you think that all this responsible use should be a lifestyle and not a trend?

Yeah. People like to use it as a marketing scheme, great, but you shouldn’t ask me “Is this a farm-raised veal?” or “Did you get this here?” when of course we did. Why would we look for anything else?

Do you think that the public at large is on board with that and that it’s here to stay? Or do you think it’s going to become unfashionable for food to be local and ingredient sourcing to be significant?

No, I think that it is the right thing to do.

Do you think it’s feasible?

Sure. I mean, it’s logical; look at what you have to spend to get certain products to your area, and look at how much you’re polluting the area. You just have to be respectful.

What’s your favorite season for produce? Do you grow any of your own?

I love fall. We have a garden at Osteria where we grow things for all the restaurants.

On the topic of accessibility, it seems like your restaurants are becoming more accessible, with Osteria and then Amis and then the new project, a gastropub. Is that something you’re doing consciously?

Well, Vetri’s not as accessible, you know, especially because now we’ve gone to all tasting menu. I never thought of it as making someplace more accessible, though, I just wanted to do different styles of restaurants. pennappetit.com

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“It has everything to do with the actual preparation of it, which is always to highlight the ingredient and not to mask it with tons of other flavors. That’s real Italian cooking.”

But do you think good Italian food should be accessible?

Good food should always be accessible.

How do you divide your time between the restaurants? How much free rein do Jeff Michaud [executive chef/partner at Osteria] and Brad Spence [chef/partner at Amis] have at their respective restaurants?

I’m usually at Vetri now. That’s kind of my secret lair. Brad and Jeff do basically what they want, but we all talk about things and meet weekly.

So how do you go through the process of finding chefs that you want to represent you and have their own space? What do you do to recognize that talent and nurture it, and then to groom and grow your chefs?

You know, it just happens. We go through a lot of chefs to find one. It’s not the issue that it was years ago. When I started out, I was washing dishes in a restaurant when I was 12 years old.

Now people choose that to go into after school, [they think] “Maybe I’ll go into cooking school,” and they don’t really know what they’re in store for. They see Top Chef and they see Food Network and they’re like, “I want to be on TV, I want to be a chef,” and they don’t realize that it’s a lot of work. So you have to weed out a lot more than you used to.

Do you think that you would ever want to be out of the kitchen more, and be more in that celebrity chef culture?

You never want to, especially if you’re a real chef. I like doing the events, but when I get home and I’m back in the kitchen I’m always like, “Ahhhh,” you know? Like a breath of fresh air.

So do you think you consciously try to stay out of the limelight? Do you turn down opportunities to be in public?

I turn down a lot, yeah. But you still have to do it, you just have to choose right. Nowadays it’s not an option; to have a successful restaurant, you have to get your name out there and do events to promote yourself. You just have to choose the way you want to do it. spring 2011

What do you think makes your style of cooking unique?

We make our own trends. We don’t follow the ones that are out there.

I read that you do a lot of experimentation in the kitchen at Vetri, that you guys play a lot. How do you go from growing up with this traditional Sicilian grandmother to a place where you feel comfortable putting a spin on your food?

RESTAURANTS VETRI A refined, once-ina-lifetime dining experience that’s been called the best Italian restaurant in America 1312 Spruce Street 215-732-3478 OSTERIA A warm, traditional Italian restaurant specializing in wood-grilled pizzas, meats and fish 640 N. Broad Street 215-763-0920 AMIS Regional Italian small plates and pastas in a casual, industrial-chic setting 412 S. 13th Street 215-732-2647

You just learn over the years. Your interests are not always what they were when you were young. They evolve, they become more complex and you want to try out new things.

Do you think your kitchen upbringing would have been different if you’d grown up with the same family in a different area, if you hadn’t had that South Philly childhood?

No, I don’t think so. Family’s family, we still would have had the same moral values, which I think really shape you more than the food does.

You throw “Industry Night” parties for service industry workers each month at Amis. Why do you think that’s important to do?

This is an industry of camaraderie—we have all these chefs and

waiters and line cooks and dishwashers, and it’s nice to be able to give back to them a little bit. I think it’s an amazing night, and it’s just growing and growing and everyone loves it. I like to create an environment where you can have a community, and that’s what we are, so I’m basically just making that a little more eminent.

I know you do a lot of work with Alex’s Lemonade Stand and through the Vetri Foundation. Why is doing work for kids so important to you?

Well, we’re also starting to get into school lunches and all that, but it’s just logical. I think it’s our responsibility as leaders in this industry, or in any industry, to do something to better the generation coming up behind you. If you have the means, you should help.

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ISGRO’S PASTRIES Family owned since 1904, Isgro’s hasn’t changed its ricotta-based cannoli recipe since Mario Isgro created it as a pastry chef for a Baron in Sicily—and we hope it never does.

1009 Christian Street (215) 923-3092

THE SPICE CORNER Former Wharton professor Herta Ginsburgs runs this emporium, home to an astounding selection of spices shelved floor-to-ceiling in old-time glass jars. Her knowledge of each spice’s flavor, uses and origin is even more impressive 930 S. 9th Street (215) 922-2876

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SUPERIOR PASTA Since 1948, Superior has been a supplier for many of Philadelphia’s top restaurants, and their store offers eight homemade pasta flavors in any cut and quantity you desire. Superior’s prepared pumpkin ravioli is especially delicious.

905 Christian Street (215) 627-3306

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Nestled a few blocks beyond South Street sits a true gastronomic gem. Born in 1851 as a hub for the city’s burgeoning Italian immigrant population is the nation’s oldest outdoor market, and a supplier of some of the freshest and most interesting food a Philadelphian can find. Here are Penn Appétit’s picks for the neighborhood’s best eats.

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CLAUDIO MOZZARELLA Seven years ago, Claudio Auriemma opened the country’s only all-mozzarella specialty store. The space is built around a one-of-a-kind machine shipped from Italy that pumps out delicious ovals of flavorful, soft and delicious cheese each day.

924 S. 9th Street (215) 627-1873

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DI BRUNO’S HOUSE OF CHEESE Opened in 1939, Di Bruno’s House of Cheese was a precursor to the nowfamous food purveyors’ small empire.

The original Italian Market location boasts over 400 cheeses, served by an eminently knowledgeable staff.

930 S. 9th Street (215) 922-2876

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SARCONE’S (not pictured) Sarcone’s has been in operation since 1918, and boasts 39 different types of breads, rolls and doughs. Their Italian loaf is a perfect specimen: thin and crispy on the outside and soft and light on the inside.

734 S. 9th Street (215) 922-1717

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BURGER REVOLUTION Philadelphia chefs are taking the humble hamburger to the next level

BY NICOLE WOON, PHOTO BY CHRISTIANA HAY

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The burger at Pub and Kitchen (20th and Lombard) features a fried egg, complete with runny yolk, atop traditional the traditional patty-lettuce-tomato combination. Burger joints and gourmet restaurants alike are increasingly diversifying their offerings with unique, more sophisticated toppings.

FOOD TRENDS

Succulent lobster. Tender confit pork belly. Juicy slices of grilled seasoned rib eye. These delicacies are often enjoyed as stand-alone dishes, but in this era of radical food trends, they’re being integrated into—or, more aptly, on top of—America’s culinary icon: THE HAMBURGER. This unassuming sandwich is said to have debuted at the 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair as a simple ground beef patty in a bun, sans toppings. Now, over a century later, the burger is ordinary no more—it has evolved into a gourmet masterpiece, balancing any number of exotic toppings on its crown.

This trend should come as no surprise, as the versatile hamburger is a perfect canvas on which a chef ’s creativity can shine. The movement emerged in 2001 with famed French chef Daniel Boulud’s “db Burger.” The $32 sirloin patty—served on a Parmesan bun and stuffed with braised short ribs, black truffles and foie gras—ignited a flurry of sophisticated burgers throughout the US. Many Philadelphia restaurants have followed Boulud’s high-class example. Noble American Cookery serves beets and a bacon patty as upscale add-ons, while Pub & Kitchen offers an over-easy egg from a local farm. Misconduct Tavern, Village Whiskey and Union Trust all sell premium burgers enhanced with foie gras. Northern Liberties burger joint Sketch offers silky truffle-infused butter as a burger topping, and London Grill gives diners the option to top their burgers with caviar. Others revolutionize the traditional “surf and turf ” concept with concoctions like PYT’s “Truffled Lobster Burger” (offered seasonally), piled high with lobster meat and creamy aioli, or the “OH burger” at Oyster House, heaped with bleu cheese and grilled onions and crowned with a fried oyster.

Fortunately for students, not all of these wild burgers are miles out of our price range. More affordable options include the “Ardennes Burger” at Monk’s Café, which pays homage to Belgium with toppings of prosciutto-like Ardennes ham and Belgian cheese. Amada crowns its Spanish-inspired burger with tomato escabeche, bacon, guindilla aioli and Manchego cheese. And El Vez’s rendition channels Mexican tortas, its patty served on a soft roll with Chihuahua cheese, bacon and jalapeño mayo.

There are even tributes to Philadelphia in burger form. Take PYT’s behemoth “Cheese Steak Pretzel Roll Burger,” a cholesterol monster layered with thinly sliced beef, tangy cheddar and Cheese Wiz on a soft spring 2011

pretzel roll, or The Wishing Well’s indulgent “SHAME Burger,” adorned with house-made scrapple, gooey American cheese and a runny fried egg.

Two Philadelphia restaurants stand out as offering the tastiest and most unique burger creations I’ve encountered. PYT in Northern Liberties consistently dreams up zany “Burger of the Week” concoctions, such as the spicy mayo- and kimchi-topped “Korean Short Rib Burger,” and the Texas Toast-wrapped “Elvis’ Hunka Hunka Burger Love,” with creamy peanut butter, grilled banana and crispy bacon. While the latter burger was a bit too rich to be enjoyed, the former united bold flavors in unexpected ways, with the kimchi’s spice balanced out by the full flavor from the moist cut of meat, its juices soaking through the bun and dripping onto the plate.

At the other end of the spectrum, Good Dog in Rittenhouse Square flips the burger topping concept inside out, translating topping into filling. Their “Good Dog Burger” sees half a pound of ground sirloin stuffed with Roquefort, creating a lava-esque stream of molten cheese upon first bite. The delicately seasoned patty is topped with caramelized onions, whose sweetness melds perfectly with the pungent flavor of the cheese.

While Philadelphia plays host to many unique burger interpretations, there are countless other variations throughout the US. So why has the premium burger trend skyrocketed over the past decade? It seems that these fancy fixings jazz up the basic American staple and inspire people to look at burgers as more than just a patty between two slices of bread. Fortunately, in this era of globalization, diners are open to exposing their palettes to more exotic flavors, creating a market for out-of-the-ordinary toppings that make them venture outside their comfort zones. Gourmet burgers can even be seen as a new form of fusion food, combining the archetypal American cuisine with inventive international toppings. While no one knows how long this fad will last, the universal popularity and unlimited potential of burgers should allow it to endure for some time— supplying us with ever more unique choices of what to eat within a bun.

GOURMET BURGER TOPPINGS IN PHILADELPHIA MONK’S CAFE proscuitto-like Ardennes ham and Belgian cheese AMADA tomato escabeche, bacon, Guindilla aioli and Manchego cheese EL VEZ Chihuahua cheese, bacon and jalapeno mayo on torta roll PYT thinly-sliced beef, cheddar and Wiz on soft pretzel roll WISHING WELL fried scrapple, American cheese and a runny fried egg GOOD DOG ground sirloin stuffed with Roquefort cheese and topped with caramelized onions OYSTER HOUSE bleu cheese, grilled onions and a fried oyster VILLAGE WHISKEY bleu cheese, foie gras, applewood bacon and maple bourbon glazed cipollini

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FOOD TRENDS

DELICIOUSLY

CONTRADICTORY

Korean tacos meld two cultures­­­­­­and achieve tasty results

BY SABRINA MILLS, PHOTOS BY SIKA GASINU & ROHUN BANSAL California summers are long and hot. Ask any local to point you to their favorite weekday lunch spot and you’ll be led to a shopping center parking lot, where men in suits and delinquent youths alike line up behind a rusty truck and walk away with steaming plates of Mexican fare. On days off, like in many other American locales, the smell of grilling hangs in the air. However, instead of charbroiling burgers, my family does things a little differently. My dad throws kalbi—meat in a Korean sweet garlic marinade— on the grill while my mom prepares all the fixings of a traditional Asian meal. These two types of food, though near and dear to my heart, remained distinct in my mind until last summer, when I experienced my first Korean taco.

In 2009, Mark Manguera, Caroline Shin-Manguera and Roy Choi launched Kogi, the LA food truck that would introduce the world to the Korean taco. This trio, deemed “true grassroots guerilla restaurateurs” by Bon Appétit, built a cult following, tweeting the location of their roving truck and seeing ever-increasing numbers of patrons flock to it

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for the inspired fusion cuisine. Although diners have their choice of succulent short ribs, spicy pork, chicken or tofu, it is ultimately the garnishes that bring the heat in a Kogi taco. On the bright summer day when I bit into my first Kogi taco, the cilantro-green onion-lime relish transported me to my favorite beach-side fish taco joint. At the same instant, the crunchy romaine and cabbage tossed in chilisoy dressing reminded me of my mom’s panch’an, the small vegetable dishes served before a Korean meal. The marriage between these two culinary traditions was completed with sesame-infused salsa roja that left my mouth burning and wanting more.

Within a few short years, this trend has spread from coast to coast and, more notably, has even gained popularity in middle America, where fusion foods are not an everyday staple. Similar food trucks have been roaming the so called ‘red states’ like Kansas and Indiana, and in Atlanta, the Hankook Taqueria has established itself as a permanent Korean-Mexican fixture.

KOGI BBQ: LA’s trendsetting korean taco truck LOCATION: Varies by day, posted on Twitter

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TYSON BEES: Serving Korean- and Thai-inspired dishes LOCATION: 33rd & Spruce Streets

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Upon coming to Penn, I was forced to acknowledge a harsh reality: Mexican and Korean food on the East Coast would never compare to the excellent renditions I’ve come to expect on the West Coast. In fact, I can say with confidence that even the carne asada quesadillas in my high school cafeteria were better than any similar dish I’ve had here. And naturally, no Korean restaurants can rival the flavor (not to mention the tender loving care) my mom cooks into every bite. That said, the Korean taco offers a new culinary frontier where, frankly, it is harder to go wrong, so I made my way around town to try some of the more popular options.

My first stop on the quest to find the perfect Korean taco was Giwa, a center city Korean restaurant. Amidst steaming earthenware bowls filled with bibimbap or kimchi chigae, Giwa’s spicy pork or chicken tacos are a pleasantly surprising addition to the menu. Wrapped in a simple flour tortilla, kimchi is paired with sour cream and cheese in a truly East-meets-Southwest experience. Giwa’s tacos excel because, like my mom always did, the restaurant sautes its kimchi, which gives the tangy condiment a more buttery taste. To savor more authentic Korean flavors, ask your server to hold the cheese and sour cream.

Stephen Starr’s Continental Midtown has long appealed to Philadelphians with fusion foods on its “global tapas” menu. Korean tacos are in good company here, joining the ranks of the French Onion Soup Dumpling and Cheesesteak Eggroll. Continental prepares their crispy take on the taco with Berkshire farm pork and sweet Korean-inspired barbeque sauce. Despite the high quality of the ingredients, something about this dish felt lost in translation from street cart to upscale restaurant.

Continental’s taco relied too heavily on the sauce and lacked the contrasting textures of other renditions. While Kogi and Giwa both perfected a balance between the delicate garnishes and succulent meat, Continental seemed to simply drench the pork in sauce and call it a day. These tacos left me longing for a splash of tangy cilantro lime relish or the added crunch of some chopped-up kimchi. spring 2011

Since 2003, the food truck KoJa has provided the Penn campus with Korean and Japanese fusion food. The original owner, however, sold the food cart to focus on KoJa Grille on North Broad. On my visit to the restaurant, I paired a bowl of steaming-hot soon dubu chigae with their beef bulgogi wrap. A burrito of sorts, the dish shares many of the essential ingredients of the taco. The wrap is filled with sweet, broiled bulgogi, rice, bell pepper, onions and shitakes.

While the mushrooms are a wonderful addition, the rice makes the dish heavy and, when paired with the tortilla, simply too starchy. The bell peppers clashed with the Korean flavors and should perhaps be replaced by the Korean Hot Pepper—long, green and a little spicier, they are traditionally dipped in soybean paste to add flavor. The wrap was still successful, though—a reminder that the beauty of a Korean taco is that the flavor of the meat and garnishes can stand alone.

That brings me to Tyson Bee’s, Penn’s closest Kogi equivalent. Situated on 33rd and Spruce, this food truck has become a destination for Korean taco aficionados on Penn’s campus and beyond. It’s hard to miss, with a colorful, bumble bee-inspired design and a formidable line of patrons outside most times of day. One day after leaving class at the museum, I found the aromas wafting through the air too much to resist, and ventured over. I ordered a Korean BBQ Beef Short Rib taco. The short ribs themselves were visually unpleasing, diced and served in what can only be described as a gray, goopy gravy. In all honesty, I was apprehensive to try my taco because the meat looked like this, but in the end the garnishes rescued the dish. The finely sliced radish and wedges of lime reminded me of my favorite beef cheek tacos from California. The diced green onions and red cabbage were reminiscent of Korean home-style cooking.

The crisp vegetables juxtaposed against the melt-in-your mouth short ribs were a winning combination and the spicy mayo drizzled on top added an extra kick. So for any Penn students inspired to try their first Korean taco, or perhaps for other homesick Californians living in Philadelphia, Tyson Bee’s is the optimal place to try this delicious dish. penn appétit

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This I-couldn’t-care-less attitude is reflected in Carman’s R-rated, genitalia-inspired decorations.

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LOCAL

I’LL SEE YOU AT

Carman’s

This South Philly staple serves up unique takes on brunch dishes—with a heaping helping of attitude

BY JENNIFER ISAACMAN, PHOTOS BY MAGGIE EDKINS It’s Saturday morning and I’m craving something a little bit heartier than a Hill house omelet. I browse through the brunch listings on my online Zagat account until my frugal eye settles on the only $20-and-under option on the web page: Carman’s Country Kitchen. With a food rating of 26 out of 30, it’s the fourth most highly rated brunch joint in Philly—on par with a $59 alternative. I call up my friend Julia, assure her that Carman’s will be fully worth the minimal dents in our bank accounts and we grab a taxi heading to Wharton Street.

We pull up in front of a blue corner store where I wouldn’t expect to find more than soda, candy and cigarettes. Noticing the creepy, armless mannequin standing beside the restaurant’s entrance, I start to doubt that I’m in the right place, but when I catch sight of a pickup truck parked outside that’s been painted with the words “Carman’s Country Kitchen,” I know that I’m not.

Julia and I walk past the mannequin and through the front doors of the building into a cramped space with four tables, a counter, one waiter, one cook and enough eye-catching kitsch to induce a seizure. Family photos and newspaper clippings cover all four walls, which range from white to yellow to red, and plastic lawn chairs are positioned at each table. One diner sits on a barstool at the counter, eating off of a plate in his lap so that he can face his three friends who are squeezed at the table for two across from him.

“Do you have a reservation?” the ponytailed waiter asks me. I tell him that I don’t and he says that the wait will be at least twenty minutes. “Would you like to take a look at the menu while you wait?” he asks. “Yes, please,” we tell him. Though I left any expectations of leather-bound menus with the pickup truck outside, I can’t help but be surprised when the waiter returns holding the day’s menu on a three-by-four dry-erase board.

Four meal options are written down: buttermilk pancakes or Belgian waffles with white figs, dark chocolate, ginger, ground almonds and anise; an omelet filled with cheese, mushrooms and fresh vegetables; challah French toast with seasonal berries; and pan-fried striped bass with a Thai spicy fruit relish. “The menu changes each week with food that I find that I would like to eat,” explains Carman Luntzel, owner and chef. “I’m opened four days, Friday through Monday, and I rarely repeat most of the dishes that I’ve thought up. I’ve had to ask people to leave if they don’t want what I’ve created that week.” This I-couldn’t-care-less attitude is reflected in Carman’s R-rated, genitalia-inspired decorations, not to mention in the restaurant’s motto, written proudly on its business cards: “She put the c*nt back in country cooking.”

Our wait flies by as we take in every object, from the pink stuffed animal pig with a shlong the size of one of its legs to the ceramic tea kettle spring 2011

with a penis for a spout and two balls underneath. “Most of the stuff in the restaurant has been gifts from different customers,” Carman says.

“The penises are from the young and old. A little old Jewish lady made my favorite in some adult class.”

Less than twenty minutes later, we sit down in our lawn chairs. Our waiter Thomas serves us water in mason jars and coffee with milk in a round, flesh-colored mug with a nipple-shaped spout. Thomas asks for our names, offers us advice on what to order and gives us directions on how to get to the best shopping areas in the neighborhood. Carman says that her two waiters, who have been with her since the day she opened shop, “are just as important to the restaurant and the food” as she is. “They are both great foodies, and I respect what they have to say,” she adds.

Julia and I order the omelet and the pancakes. With the open kitchen only feet away, we have the privilege of watching the master at work and the challenge of not drooling onto our placemats while we for our food to come. Carman, a tall and attractive middle-aged woman, multi-tasks flipping pancakes, beating eggs, plating fish and washing dishes, all while managing conversations with her waiters and regular customers.

After about twenty minutes, Thomas returns with generous portions of “The omelet for Jen” and “The pancakes for Julia.” In my omelet, the vegetables are fresh, and cut into pieces large enough to truly taste. The cheese, an essential component, is sharp and delicious. I steal a few bites of Julia’s pancakes, and for a moment I wish I had ordered them instead. The mixture of sweet and earthy ingredients inside the pancakes makes for an eclectic flavor combination that embodies Carman’s approach to cooking.

Later, when I ask Carman how she learned to cook so well, she replies, “I only eat at the better places, so I know how to cook from paying checks. My genius is putting things together that just work—things you don’t think of, but I do.”

Genius is not a bad way to describe it. Though her my-way-or-thehighway attitude might alienate some first-time diners, Carman has created a devoted fan base. In 1996, when the Country Kitchen caught fire, Carman’s loyal customers rushed to her aid, retrieving chairs, tables and even favorable newspaper clippings from the charred mess. And though they might have played a role, the superior fluffiness and flavor of Carman’s pancakes probably weren’t the deciding factors in bringing those costumers out to build her restaurant back up from the ground. Rather, the substantial emotional attachment that customers clearly feel for Carman’s Country Kitchen is more likely a consequence of Carman’s badass attitude, its Grandma’s house-inspired service and its entirely unique spin on a classic American meal. penn appétit

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LOCAL

FAVORITE PHILADELPHIA RECIPES During their four years dining in Philadelphia, many Penn students have “go-to” meals that they find themselves ordering time and time again. These familiar flavors benefit from the ambiance of restaurant settings, but students’ most ordered dishes can also be replicated at home. After surveying Penn students and alumni about their favorite dishes, I asked some of the city’s restaurateurs to share some secrets with their biggest fans.

BY LAUREN FLEISCHER PHOTOS BY MIKE CHIEN, CHRISTIANA HAY & MELODY CHIANG

SUPPER

Diners at South Street’s Supper enjoy farm-to-table cuisine with the season’s freshest offerings. Their carrot and tangerine soup is the perfect example, as the ingredients vary depending on their availability. Chef Mitch Prensky suggests using tangerines when they are at their peak, and oranges when tangerines are not available. For the home chef, this recipe can be further adapted by melting marshmallows and using coconut cream for the topping.

Supper’s marshmallow-lined bowl filled with sweet carrot soup is the best dessert disguised as a meal I’ve ever encountered.

Combined with the cozy atmosphere of this South Street spot, I can’t think of a more nostalgic Philly dish. Lauren McDevitt ’11

soup ingredients 2 lbs carrots, diced 9 oz water 9 oz fresh-squeezed tangerine juice (substitute with oranges when tangerines are not in season) 1/4 Tbsp tangerine zest 4 oz shallots, sliced 9 oz fresh carrot juice 9 oz water 2 Tbsp canola oil Salt and pepper to taste

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1 Heat canola oil and sweat shallots for 5 minutes on medium heat.

2 Add diced carrots, lower heat, cover and cook until tender.

Cook for 10 minutes with no caramelization.

3 Add water, tangerine juice, tangerine zest, and season with salt and pepper. Bring to a boil and simmer for 20 to 30 minutes.

4 Puree soup mixer in a high speed blender until smooth.

5 Before serving, thin souop with fresh carrot juice and water until desired soup consistency.

coconut marshmallow topping ingredients 4 oz egg whites 8 oz sugar 1 1/2 oz coconut powder (can substitute coconut cream) Mint sprigs and tangerine segments Pinch of salt

1 Whip sugar, egg whites and salt in a double boiler until sugar is fully dissolved in egg whites and egg whites are fluffy.

2 Add to an electric mixer filled with the whip and whip until stiff peaks form.

3 Fold in coconut powder.

4 Smear the marshmallow onto the inside of a soup bowl as a garnish and brulee with a blow-torch to caramelize. Add mint and orange segments to center of bowl and pour soup in front of guest. pennappetit.com

POD At Pod, the futuristic University City outpost of Stephen Starr’s empire, members of the Penn community are able to savor Asian-fusion cuisine right on campus.

Pod’s house salad is offered at both lunch and dinner and can be enjoyed alone or shared as an appetizer. Served with mixed greens and a variety of vegetables, the salad’s highlight is its tart and refreshing vinaigrette. This dressing pairs well with sliced radish, cucumber, or any other fresh vegetables you desire.

The Pod house salad was one of my favorite lunches on campus because of the amazing dressing. I always go back to Pod when I visit Penn! Jonathan Kiman ’07

MARATHON GRILL

ingredients 1 medium white onion, chopped 1 carrot, peeled and chopped 2 oz fresh ginger, peeled and diced 2 cloves garlic, diced 1/2 cup soy sauce 1/2 cup unseasoned rice vinegar 1/4 cup sugar 1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil 1/2 cup vegetable oil Salt and pepper to taste 1 Puree all ingredients in a blender except the vegetable oil.

2 As the blender purees the ingredients, add the vegetable oil slowly till the mixture is at desired consistency.

3 Adjust seasoning.

Marathon Grill’s decadent chocolate chip cookie dough pancakes hover precariously on the border between breakfast and dessert, which is the ideal combination for me! The pancake base acts as the perfect platform to unite melt-in-your-mouth chocolate chips and barely baked chunks of cookie dough; the dish is well worth the splurge. Nicole Woon ’14

With six locations in Philadelphia, Marathon Grill has become a popular brunch destination. On Saturdays and Sundays, the University City location often has a long line with many waiting to enjoy omelettes, French toast, and a wide selection of pancakes.

Marathon’s most popular pancake dish is its Chocolate Chip Cookie Pancakes, which not only mimic the flavor of cookie dough, but also include chunks of fresh dough in the batter.

ingredients 1 cup all-purpose flour 1 Tbsp sugar 1 Tbsp baking powder 1 tsp salt 1 egg, beaten 1 cup buttermilk 2 Tbsp vegetable oil 1/2 cup prepared chocolate chip cookie dough 1 Tbsp powdered confectioners sugar (optional)

spring 2011

1 Mix the dry ingredients together.

2 Mix the egg, buttermilk, and oil together.

3 Add wet mixture to the dry ingredients. Stir together until just slightly lumpy and ingredients are mixed, being careful not to over-stir.

4. Let pancake batter rest for up to 30 minutes (this allows the batter to thicken and air bubble to work their way out).

5 Heat a clean, buttered skillet to medium heat before pouring batter. To test skillet heat, sprinkle a few drops of water onto the surface, if the bubbles scatter around, the heat is right.

6 Pour batter onto the skillet in equal sized amounts.

7 When pancakes have been cooking for about 2 minutes, add desired amount of cookie dough.

8 Turn pancakes over as soon as pancakes puff slightly and the bubbles on top begin to break.

Bake on other side until slightly browned.

9 Dust with powdered sugar and serve while hot.

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INTERNATIONAL

Few people realize that many cultures have their own version of the crêpe, a thin pancake rolled, folded or topped with each culture’s own unique fillings.

f latten it out

No matter its incarnation, the thin pancake makes an impression in every culture

BY ELLIOTT BROOKS Crêperie Beaumonde makes crêpes the same way the Bretons have been making them for hundreds of years. Their dark and nutty savory crêpe, wrapped around anything from classic ham to succulent beef bourguignon, is uniquely traditional in an age of pale, wafer-thin sweet crêpes. Their key ingredient? What the French call blé noir, literally black flour, although in the Anglosphere we know it as buckwheat.

Buckwheat was brought to Brittany, the rocky coastal region of northwestern France, during the 13th century after the Crusades in the East opened up Europe to a plethora of exotic new goods and foods. The Bretons ground the buckwheat grain to form a flour, then combined it with milk and eggs to make a basic crêpe batter. They smoothed this batter out on flat stones, called jalets, which they heated over an open fire. They called these thin pancakes galettes, after the name jalets for the stones, although now they are more often referred to as crêpes salées, meaning salty crêpes.

It wasn’t until much later, with the arrival of white flour, that the crêpes sucrées (sweet crêpes) we know of today were invented and quickly spread to the rest of France. These crêpes, which are served with sweet additions like fresh fruit and Nutella, are now popular all over Europe and North America.

However, few people realize that many cultures have their own version of the crêpe, a thin pancake rolled, folded or topped with each culture’s own unique fillings.

In India, the most common crêpe-like pancake is called dosa. Although dosa is believed to be a century-old dish hailing from the city of Udipi in the southwestern state of Karnataka, it is now a delicious and filling street-food that can be found everywhere in cities such as Mumbia, Kolkata and Chennai. The thin pancake is made from a batter of urad beans and ground parboiled rice (rice that has been cooked in its husk). This batter is left to ferment for eight hours before it’s spread out on a warm, greased griddle called a thava. Dosas are cooked just until they reach a light, golden hue, then are quickly scooped off the griddle and wrapped around a variety of fillings. The most common dosa, called the masala dosa, is filled with spiced potatoes and fried onions. Dosas are traditionally served on a banana leaf with a few side dishes, usually samblhar (a thick vegetable curry), lentils and a coconut-chili chutney. Although the Philadelphia Chutney Co.’s dosas don’t come on banana leaves, the restaurant does serve the traditional masala dosa.

They also offer Americanized twists, like their dosa filled with avocado, cheese, arugula and fresh tomato.

Once a French colony and a major trading partner with India, Vietnam has a flat pancake that is argued to be a cross

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between a dosa and a crêpe. Bahn-xeo, literally “sizzling cake” in Vietnamese, is a crispy, pan-fried cake made from rice flour, coconut milk and tumeric. The bahn-xeo found at Vientiane Café are stuffed with bean sprouts, onions, carrots and either shrimp or tofu (although traditionally bahn-xeo can also be stuffed with pork). The trick to eating the dish is to wrap each bite up in the mustard, lettuce or mint leaves served on the side before dipping it in the nuoc cham sauce—a sweet, spicy and salty concoction made from fish sauce, rice wine vinegar, lime juice, chili, salt and sugar. Each bite of bahn-xeo is an explosion of flavor, a perfect blend of hot and cold, rich and fresh.

Ireland has a similar flat pancake, filled with meat and often served with a sauce. Boxty, from the Irish words bacstaí, is so cherished in Ireland that there is even a popular ditty about it: Boxty on the griddle, Boxty in the pan, If you don’t cook Boxty, You’ll never have your man.

Since boxty is made from the Irish staple of potatoes, it has long been considered peasant food. However, there are hardly any Irish mothers who don’t have their own beloved recipe for boxty. Although there are numerous variations, the basic boxty is a combination between hash browns and pancakes, made by combining grated raw potato, leftover mashed potatoes, buttermilk and baking soda. To this mixture some people add scallions, onions or other spices. Boxty is cooked on a griddle, then wrapped around fish or meat and served with a cream sauce or gravy. The Bards, near Rittenhouse Square, serves a boxty filled with quintessentially Irish corned beef and topped with their own creamy leek sauce.

Ethiopia’s version of the crêpe, injera, gets its unique texture from the way it’s prepared. Injera is made from teff cereal, a very tiny grain unique to Ethiopian cuisine. The teff seeds are ground into a fine powder, then mixed with water and left to ferment for two to three days. The batter is then cooked on a hot, flat pan creating the spongy sourdough pancake that is the center of Ethiopian cuisine. At the restaurant Abyssinia, the dishes you order are served on top of one injera, with a few more sides of injera that are supposed to be ripped up and used as scooping utensils. Once you’re done devouring the spicy meats, lentils and vegetables served on top of the first injera, you can eat it, savoring the flavors and juices that have permeated into the spongy, porous bread. Just like in Ethiopia, the injeras at Abyssinia are served family style, so it’s best to come with a group of hungry friends. After all, as the waitress at Abyssinia says, at the end of a day, friends are the people you share a meal with. pennappetit.com

french

irish

ethiopian

vietnamese

indian

crêpe boxty injera bahn-xeo dosa

CRÊPERIE BEAUMONDE 625 S. 6th Street 215-592-0656

spring 2011

THE BARDS 2013 Walnut Street 215-569-9585

ABYSSINIA 229 S. 45th Street 215-387-2424

VIENTIANE CAFE 4728 Baltimore Avenue 215-726-1095

PHILA. CHUTNEY CO. 1628 Sansom Street 215-564-6446

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FIND PORK BELLY AT THESE PHILLY RESTAURANTS

RECIPES

See p.39 for Hoi Ning’s pork belly

There’s somethin’ ‘bout pork belly

DIM SUM GARDEN 59 N. 11th Street 215-627-0218

PERCY STREET BARBECUE 600 S. 9th Street 215-625-8510

FOUR RIVERS 936 Race Street 215-629-8385

TINTO 114 S. 20th Street 215-665-9150

THE DANDELION 124 S. 18th Street 215-558-2500

EVERYDAY GOOD HOUSE 5501 N. Front Street 215-276-7942

BOBO’S SPORTS BAR 6424 Castor Avenue 215-743-9900

BY H OI NING NGAI, PHOTOS BY MAGGIE EDKINS If you mention bacon in mixed company, most people will undoubtedly bond over it. The word conjures up memories across the senses—the distinctive smell wafting through kitchens, dining halls and restaurants; the sizzle declaring its presence above ambient noise; and most importantly, the salty crispiness finding its way to the tongue.

On the other hand, if you mention pork belly, you may receive some strange looks and confused expressions. What most people don’t realize, however, is that bacon is pork belly. To be more clear, pork belly is the cut of meat that is cured and smoked to make bacon. And while some people may find the idea of pork belly somewhat disturbing, it is nothing more than a very thick piece of uncured bacon.

Although pork belly has only recently garnered attention and popularity in American restaurants, this cut of meat is ubiquitous in Asian cuisine. In Chinese cooking, one of the most common dishes is stewed pork in brown sauce, which is pork belly braised in sugar and soy sauce. A wonderful combination of salty and sweet, this dish is done exceptionally well at Dim Sum Garden and Four Rivers in Chinatown.

In both renditions, the lean meat soaks up a substantial amount of sauce in the braising process, becoming moist and fork-tender, and the slow-cooking makes the layer of fat come out creamy in consistency.

For a more savory approach to pork belly, try samgyeopsal, a popular Korean dish prepared by laying thick slices directly on a grill with minimal marinade or seasoning. Once the meat is cooked through, it is usually dipped in either a blend of chili and soy bean paste, or a combination of salt and sesame oil.

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Particularly good preparations of this dish can be found at Everyday Good House and Bobo’s Sports Bar. If you’re careful not to over-grill, the meat offers just the right amount of chewiness, which contrasts well with the crunchy lettuce leaf it’s traditionally placed in.

Unlike pork chops or tenderloin, which both run on the leaner side, pork belly consists of a very high percentage of fat. So while the those cuts can be easily overcooked and dried out, pork belly retains a great deal of moisture no matter the cooking process. Some belly can be nearly all fat, though, and you should try to find a cut with a good balance of lean meat and fat to get a confluence of textures with every bite.

Taking advantage of the richness of pork belly and the ability of its fat to soak up intense flavor, southern barbecue also showcases this cut in a big way. Percy Street Barbecue in Philadelphia takes a Texas-style, lessis-more approach, covering the meat in a simple dry rub of salt and pepper and smoking it in barbecue pits with local red oak. The end result is a piece of meat that thrives in its sparseness and needs no sauce, with a moist texture and delicious, intensely smoky flavor.

As pork belly has become more trendy, its status has been elevated by many high-end restaurateurs, like Jose Garces and Stephen Starr in Philadelphia. One of the most basic, brilliant and satisfying preparations of pork belly can be found at Garces’s Basque-inspired Tinto, where a plate of pork belly canapés showcases two small pieces glazed with honey and paired with shaved apples. The combination offers just the right amount of acid and sweetness to balance the unctuousness of the pork belly. pennappetit.com

NARRATIVE

BY MOLLY O’NEILL

Working hard for the money

A glimpse into the restaurant industry, from a student’s perspective “A student’s primary responsibility is their academic achievement and work cannot be a priority.”

The University of Pennsylvania’s student employment handbook acknowledges that being a student is a full-time job. Us students shouldn’t have to worry about paying the rent while we try to get straight As and write theses, but even at a school like Penn, there’s a small percentage of students who need financial help beyond their aid packages. Traditionally, those who need extra spending money take work-study jobs, which allow for some on-the-clock schoolwork time. These positions can be convenient and rewarding, but what about the student who can’t live on eight dollars an hour?

Enter the restaurant industry. Naturally, a city like Philadelphia affords numerous opportunities to earn extra cash outside of school, and restaurant work can be fun and lucrative, a learning experience in its own right. But at what cost to the student?

Katie is a senior English major who hostesses at MidAtlantic. “Last semester I worked Thursday, Friday and Saturday,” she says, “and by Sunday I was too tired to do my homework.”

This is all too familiar to me. Last spring I took four classes and worked Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Weekend nights are the “money shifts” at most restaurants; I’d have to work two or three weekdays (or two entire weeks at my work-study job) to earn what I can make on one Friday night.

However, those are also the days when the rest of the world is partying, sleeping in and catching up on schoolwork. Because of my schedule, I didn’t have a single full day off outside of spring break.

By April, I felt like I was falling apart.

It’s not just the time commitment that makes restaurant work so taxing on a student. Says Katie, “I spent a lot of Friday nights last semester turning down invitations to go out and soaking my feet in buckets of hot water instead…I felt like an 80-year-old woman.” It’s physically draining to be on one’s feet for eight or nine hours at a time, often without a break. Even when I eat during my shift, I do so while standing up behind the bar, spring 2011

grabbing bites between pouring beers.

Different positions require different kinds of physical labor; while hosting is difficult in its own right, serving, running, bussing and bartending can be even tougher on the body. Carrying multiple plates and glasses is harder than it looks, and hand and wrist injuries are common for restaurant workers. Bus tubs stacked high with plates are heavy and precarious. A full keg of beer weighs over 150 pounds; imagine moving a few of those around every night. Then there are the backaches from constantly bending over to handwash glassware. By the end of the weekend, my hands are painfully dry from the scalding water and streaked with cuts from slicing citrus and cleaning up broken glass.

At the risk of sounding petulant, I think it’s important that more fortunate students understand the difficulties faced by those who choose restaurant work to make ends meet.

Undeniable tension exists in Philadelphia between service industry employees and students. As a Penn student myself, I often feel compelled to defend the “Penn kids,” but those two words tend to elicit a negative reaction among restaurant workers all over the city. It’s not an entirely fair attitude, but certainly the stereotype originated somewhere.

Local websites like Sketch Jobs and Craigslist feature rants from servers and bartenders directed at Penn students. Unfair as it is, it’s often assumed that any college-aged person who treats a restaurant worker in a disdainful manner or leaves a poor tip has some affiliation with the University. The bad apples in the Penn barrel seem to have damaged the reputations of the rest, leading to an animosity that need not exist.

Perhaps those among us who do treat restaurant workers unkindly do so out of a feeling of superiority. Or perhaps it’s due to a lack of education in dining etiquette. Many times, I’ve greeted a table with a cheerful “Welcome! How are you?” only to be met by a sidelong sneer or a clipped “We’ll have water.” Says Katie, “I can’t even count how many familiar faces have walked right past me when I greet them at the door, or

have shoved their coats in my face for the coat check without any regard for the fact that my hands were already full.” It’s also hurtful for a server to be lashed out against by a guest for something that wasn’t his or her fault—errors or delays in the kitchen, problems with the computer system, food runners who mix up table numbers. As the face of the restaurant, it’s the servers’ and bartenders’ job to keep the guests happy, but sometimes our cheeks hurt by the end of the night from forcing a smile in the wake of a verbal tirade.

Francis, a graduate student who bartended at City Tap House, adds a few points on bar etiquette: “It is a rare thing to have one student make eye contact, wait patiently for me to serve everyone before him and then know what he’d like or have questions ready for himself and his group of friends. If he throws his card out to start a tab, I flag him as a target-for-regular and hope that he’ll teach his friends a thing or two.” This type of guest is the one we’ll want to help first, the one whose name we’ll remember, and the one we may throw a free drink next time. The student who yells “Hey you!” and frantically waves his hand in my face is a red flag. This is the student who will almost surely be unprepared when I come to take his order, pay with a credit card for each separate beer and skip the tip. This guest will delay transactions for everyone else at the bar and reinforce the stereotype of “inconsiderate Ivy Leaguers.”

Tipping is always a controversial subject, and for many restaurant workers, this feels like a class issue. It’s assumed, however wrongfully, that most Penn students come from wealthy families who support the students financially until graduation, which really makes it sting when we bust our butts just to receive twenty-five or fifty cents in return.

In general, I think that poor tipping can be attributed to the widespread lack of awareness that servers and bartenders make much, much less than minimum wage. In Philadelphia, the rate is $2.83 per hour, and by the time the IRS finishes taxing our tips, these paltry paychecks penn appétit

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are usually voided completely. Basically, we live entirely off of our tips. Twenty percent is a reasonable amount to pay the person who greets you, explains the menu, answers questions and makes recommendations, accommodates your special requests, takes your drink order and delivers your beverages, fills your water, orders your meal and then brings it to you, processes your payment and cleans up after you. Keep in mind that your server is in turn tipping the hosts, busers, food runners and bartenders for their help. In many restaurants, the server has to “tip out” up to 35% of his/her nightly wages.

Arguably more aggravating than poor tipping is poor treatment or blatant disrespect. Says Katie, “I get the impression that when I’m at work, a lot of people don’t think I’m in school or have any sort of aspirations.” Bur in reality, many of us service industry employees are working our way through undergraduate and advanced degrees.

“Last week,” she continues, “the guy who held the door for me at Cosi was the same guy who, the night before, complained that I was ‘incompetent’ because I took too long to retrieve his coat from the back room.” People trying to make small talk where I work are generally shocked when I tell them I’m graduating from Penn. But working at

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a restaurant or bar and being intelligent are not mutually exclusive.

Aside from the student issue, it shouldn’t matter what your server does when he or she isn’t at work. Erin, a bartender at Local 44, puts it this way: “It’s the difference between treating me like a server or a servant. I don’t mind serving you; that’s my job. But don’t treat me like I’m stupid.” I know many restaurant people who are among the most creative, ambitious and intelligent individuals I’ve ever met. Some of us are students, but all of us are human.

So if life is so tough in “the biz,” why do we do it? As I mentioned before, restaurant work can be really lucrative (it can also be terribly unpredictable; I’ve had slow shifts where I’ve actually lost money by the time I paid for a cab home). But it can be a lot of fun. There’s often a free drink waiting after work. Hours are flexible.

We get to meet new people every day. And working in a high-stress environment creates fast bonds between fellow industry folk that can turn into lifelong friendships.

I’ve also learned important lessons from my work in restaurants. I’ve picked up some of the most important cooking basics from watching and talking to chefs—proper seasoning, heating

a pan before you add the oil, chopping vegetables to equal size so they cook evenly. Having friends in the industry affords me the opportunity to dine out frequently and try new things; where I once was a finicky eater, I’ve learned to open my mind and hone my palate. And I can throw a killer dinner party, cooking, serving and cleaning as I go along at a pace I never would have developed without my restaurant work.

I’ve learned efficiency, multitasking and patience under pressure. I’ve learned teamwork and damage control. I’ve learned to keep smiling no matter how much it hurts, and I’ve learned not to take things personally. The work ethic I’ve honed carries over into my drive for academic achievement, and will inform any work I do as a college graduate as well. I love my job, and I speak for a good portion of the service industry when I say I’m proud of what I do.

Hopefully we can represent ourselves well when dining out, both as Penn students and as members of the larger Philadelphia community.

Don’t let it slide if your friend treats a restaurant worker with insolence. And to my fellow service soldiers: let’s have patience with students finding their way in the world. We may be surprised at the benefits we reap on both sides.

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RECIPES Visit www.pennappetit.com/blog for more exclusive recipes

from “How I Taught Myself to Cook” (p.12-13)

from “Discovering Gnocchi” (p.17)

ingredients (serves 4) 12 oz chicken breast halves, cut into 1-inch pieces 3 Tbsp dry sherry 2 Tbsp soy sauce 1 Tbsp water 1 Tbsp cooking oil 1 tsp cornstarch 1 tsp ground ginger 1 cup sliced carrots 2 cups fresh pea pods 1/3 cup roasted peanuts 4 green onions 2 cloves garlic, minced

ingredients (serves 2) 1 lb potatoes, unpeeled 2 large eggs 1 cup all-purpose flour 1/2 tsp salt 1/4 tsp grated black pepper 1/4 tsp grated nutmeg 1 tsp extra virgin olive oil 1 Tbsp diced parsley

THAI CHICKEN STIR FRY

instructions Combine sherry, soy sauce, water and cornstarch in a

mixing bowl.

Add oil to large skillet over medium-high heat. Add ginger and garlic, and cook for 15 seconds. Add carrots and cook for 2 minutes. Add pea pods and onions, and cook for 3 minutes, stirring frequently.

Remove vegetables from skillet.

Add chicken, and cook for 4 minutes or until no longer pink.

Add sauce to the center of skillet, and stir until thickened and bubbling. Add cooked vegetables and peanuts to skillet, and cook for 2 minutes until heated through. Serve with steamed rice.

from “Deconstructing Chai” (p.14)

MOM’S TRADITIONAL GINGER MASALA CHAI ingredients (serves 2-3) 2 cups water 1 cup milk 2 tsp sugar 1-inch piece fresh ginger, grated (can substitute 1/2 tsp chai masala) 2 bags black tea

instructions Place water and ginger in a standard teapot or kettle and bring to a boil. Add tea bags and sugar to pot. Allow mixture to boil for 30 seconds, then add milk. Boil for 2 minutes more, then cover and let steep for 4-5 minutes, until the chai is a deep brown color.

from “Water Ice” (p.38)

WATER ICE

ingredients 1 qt water 2 cups sugar 3/4 cup lemon juice 1 lemon rind, grated instructions Boil water and sugar together for 5 minutes. Let cool. Stir in juice and rind.

spring 2011

Pour into shallow bowl and put in freezer.

As mixture starts to freeze, stir outside ice crystals into the center about every half hour until it reaches a slushy consistency. At that point, stop stirring and freeze overnight.

To serve, scrape very thin layers of slush off the top.

SHANNON’S PERFECT GNOCCHI

instructions Pre-heat oven to 375° F. Bake potatoes for approximately 60 minutes, or until a bit mushy. Once potatoes are cool enough to handle, scoop out flesh and pass it through a potato ricer or grate it on the small holes of a grater. This should yield about 2 cups of prepared potatoes.

Make a mound of the shredded potatoes, sculpting a well in the middle. Add egg, olive oil, nutmeg, parsley, salt

and pepper into the well and mix with your hands. Slowly fold small allotments of flour into the mixture. If dough is too dry, add another egg or some more water. If it holds together when rolled, it’s ready; if not, add more flour.

Sprinkle some flour on a flat surface and roll pieces of dough into ropes approximately ½ cm in diameter. Cut ropes into ½ inch-long pieces. Keep gnocchi lightly floured to avoid sticking.

Bring a large pot of water to a boil and add a handful of salt. Drop in gnocchi pieces, then watch until they rise to the surface and cook for 90 seconds more once they do.

Remove gnocchi with a large spoon or skimmer and shake off any excess water. Serve with pesto, red sauce or cream sauce.

from “There’s Somethin’ ‘Bout Pork Belly” (p.32)

BROILED PORK BELLY

ingredients (serves 3-4) 18 oz slab of pork belly (with skin) 1 Tbsp Chinese five spice powder 1 Tbsp Garlic powder 1 Tbsp Salt 1 Tbsp Pepper 2 Tbsp Vinegar instructions Preheat oven to 350° F. Rinse pork belly and blot dry with paper towels.

Dust and rub pork belly generously with spices. Feel free to adjust proportions based on your preference for

each spice.

Use a sharp knife or skewer to poke lots of holes in skin, which will allow fat to be rendered during cooking process. Rub vinegar generously over skin.

Place pork belly skin side down on small rack in roasting pan (so that pan can catch fat drippings). Roast 35 minutes or until no more fat renders out and meat is soft and cooked through.

Remove pork belly from oven, then flip over on rack and broil a few minutes, until skin crisps. Be sure not to burn skin.

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franklinfountain A Philadelphia treat for all ages

BYJULIE BOTSCH, PHOTOS BY MADELINE MILLER The sign in front of the Franklin Fountain reads “Franklin Ice Cream: All-Ways.“ Benjamin Franklin would have liked that. He introduced the food to Philadelphia during the Constitutional Convention of 1787. Without this cold treat to cool tensions and put a smile on the faces of our founding fathers, democracy as we know it today might not exist. People can experience a taste of America’s culinary past by visiting the Franklin Fountain, located in the heart of Old City. This re-creation of a turn-ofthe-century ice cream parlor and soda fountain serves handmade ice cream, old-fashioned sundaes, classic banana splits, New York Egg Creams, old-time ice cream sodas and much, much more. A real treat at the fountain is a scoop of Teaberry Gum ice cream; though its pink color is reminiscent of Pepto-Bismol, the taste is a refreshing and rich wintergreen flavor.

The interior of the small establishment is as authentic as the menu. Customers can take in the ambiance while sitting at a polished antique marble fountain. Music plays from a real Victrola. Air conditioning is not allowed;

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instead, two belt-powered ceiling fans cool down the room. When customers go to pay the check, an antique cash register rings them up. On the back of each lever is a Ben Franklin witticism.

Both of the owners—brothers Eric and Ryan Berley—wear white lab coats, white paper hats and bow ties—replicating the traditional “soda jerk” uniform from a bygone era. The soda jerks at the fountain mix together a bevy of beverages, like the New York Egg Cream, a classic fountain drink that consists of chocolate syrup, milk and carbonated water—think sparkling Yoo-hoo. It’s rich, chocolaty, fizzy and foamy.

The traditional soda jerk mixed together flavored syrups, carbonated soda water and phosphoric acid to create drinks commonly known as phosphates. Popular flavors were orange, cherry, lemon, lime (usually called a green river), chocolate and vanilla. An especially popular blend was the lime rickey. “Rickeys” all contained lime juice with one or more fruit syrups and carbonated water. Phosphate variations were limited only by the soda jerk’s imagination; in fact, the origins of many of

today’s favorite fizzy drinks are in this era of the soda fountain. Think of today’s carbonated staples like Coca-Cola, Root Beer, 7-Up and Dr. Pepper to name a few. They all originated as favorites at the local soda fountain. Today, the Franklin Fountain serves not only phosphates at their soda fountain but also additional bottled sodas at their Dry Goods counter—nostalgic items like Moxie, America’s oldest soft drink, or Dad’s Root Beer, Blenheim Ginger Ale and Nesbitt’s Strawberry.

Besides hand-made ice cream and madefrom-scratch sodas, another Philadelphia tradition that the brothers are continuing at the Franklin Fountain is that of Clear Toy candymaking. “Dierich Orde Glass,” or Clear Toy Candy, is a Pennsylvania-German custom that dates back to the 18th century. During the Christmas holidays, children in Philadelphia would receive the candies as gifts in their stockings. Made from Victorian hard candy molds, the confections are handcrafted onsite at the Franklin Fountain. The crystalline clear toy candies come in a variety of shapes, sizes pennappetit.com

NARRATIVE

Without this cold treat to cool tensions and put a smile on the faces of our founding fathers, democracy as we know it today, might not exist.

SHANE CANDIES and colors. Some of the more popular shapes for the holidays are Santa Claus, reindeer, camels and doves, but the Berley brothers use over 250 antique candy molds annually.

The fountain also sells “Springerle Cookies” during the holiday season. Since 1710, these cookies have been a regional holiday favorite, brought to the Philadelphia area by German immigrants. Today, the cookies are created with hand-carved molds by members of The Springerle House in Lancaster County. Both of these institutions believe in a commitment to area culinary traditions, and desire to preserve historical authenticity in preparing these traditional food items.

In his lifetime, Ben Franklin advocated for social responsibility, craftsmanship and tradition to better serve the people of Philadelphia. As Ben said, “Integrity is everything.” From the Fountain’s décor to its menu to its thoughtfully dressed servers, the Berley brothers have created a unique experience that is honest to the period—and delicious to boot.

spring 2011

The oldest candy store in Philadelphia stands at 110 Market Street in Old City. Since opening in 1911, it’s been owned by three successive generations of the Shane family, and has always been known as Shane Candies. Recently, however, the shop was sold to Eric and Ryan Berley, the brothers behind the Franklin Fountain a few doors down.The brothers have been restoring Shane’s since May 2010 with their trademark passion for history, antiques and the desire to do things right.

That ethos has forced a delay of the store’s reopening— originally slated for last fall—to early this summer, by which point Shane’s should mimic its original 1911 glory. Ornately carved candy counters and shelves, ceiling moldings, punchbowl lights and a turn-of-the-century cash register are part of the restoration process. The project’s painter Mike McCann notes that even the colors of the shop are the same authentic ones that appeared in Independence Hall over 100 years ago.

As for the candies, many will be made on premises using traditional techniques. There will even be a live candy maker stationed in front of the shop’s window for all to see. Shane’s signature sweet is the chocolate buttercream, made with a machine from the 1920s that the brothers are tirelessly restoring. The brothers also plan to offer a selection of seasonal candies, including saltwater taffy and fudge in the summer. And just like at the Franklin Fountain, those making and serving the treats will be dressed in period garb, rounding out the fun and authentic experience.

BY TEAGAN SCHWEITZER

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morecooltreats

RECIPES

See p.39 for Page’s water ice

LIQUID NITROGEN ICE CREAM WATER ICE During the warmer months, water ice has always been my top choice to beat the heat. A Philadelphia staple, the frozen concoction is lighter than ice cream and, unlike snow cones, is mixed with fresh fruit and sugar before freezing so it doesn’t have to be slathered in saccharine syrup. Although similar to Italian ice, water ice tends to be softer and slushier.

Given that water ice is a distinctly Philadelphia food, countless vendors claim to have had a family member who brought the recipe over from Italy.

One story has the Roman Emperor Nero ordering his wines to be chilled in the mountainside. When a server spilled saltpeter (a common preservative) into the mix, he accidentally created Italian ice. Other tales trace its roots back to ancient China, and still others claim that the concoction originated in Greece, where flavored snow was a popular snack in the 5th Century BC. Regardless of its true origins, water ice is ubiquitous on Philly streets once the warmer months arrive, with purveyors offering many colorful varieties.

Rita’s is the most popular chain, with locations throughout the city, Its mango ice was always a highlight of my summers growing up, and lately I’ve gotten into newer flavors like Swedish fish and birthday cake.

John’s Water Ice (701 Christian Street) and Italiano’s (2551 S. 12th Street) are two of my favorites in South Philly, with customer loyalty comparable to the enthusiasm surrounding Pat’s and Geno’s. John’s has been in business since 1959 and always offers chocolate, cherry, pineapple and lemon, with one or two additional flavors that change weekly. Their product is made on premises and is not as intensely sweet as most water ice. Visitors to John’s are often told to slurp out of the cup—as they claim is tradition—rather than eat it with a spoon. Italiano’s claims to have invented the gelati (a now-popular custard and water ice parfait). All of their water ice is made with real fruit chunks mixed in, and they offer unique flavors like iced tea and ginger ale.

I also recently discovered some of the best water ice in the city right near Penn’s campus at Bo Sing (4006 Market Street), a water ice shop within a convenience store. The place looks like a graffiti-covered greyhound bus waiting room, with flavors posted on sheets of paper hastily taped to the wall, most of them misspelled (pineappi or strawber, anyone?). Setting aside, Bo Sing offers delicious ice at a great value; each giant cup of mango, watermelon and passion fruit ice was the perfect consistency, for only 50 cents a piece.

A summertime dessert for centuries, water ice is a part of the Philadelphia food culture that shouldn’t be missed. BY PAGE TRAXLER

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There’s been a recent convergence of nerdy and foodie sensibilities that has resulted in many molecular gastronomy trends, liquid nitrogen ice cream being one of the most prominent.

This ice cream is not as different from the traditional as you might think.

It’s made by first combining three simple components in a bowl: milk, cream and sugar. Then comes liquid nitrogen, a clear and colorless state of the chemical that’s stored in high-pressure containers at −196 °C. It’s poured directly into the bowl while the mixture is stirred, flash-freezing the ingredients. Liquid flavorings like chocolate syrup or mint extract are added before the liquid nitrogen, but solid flavorings like chocolate chips or pieces of fruit must be mixed in after the freezing process. (If not, they’ll take on an unpalatable, rock-like hardness.)

This isn’t just a show for fun, though; the finished product offers some distinct advantages over your standard store-bought tub. The mixture is cooled so quickly that ice crystals do not have time to form among the ingredients, and fat molecules remain small, fine particles. This allows the treat to maintain a notable texture that’s much smoother than that of normal ice cream. The rapid freezing also ensures that the add-ins retain the brightest, most vivid flavor possible.

So where to sample this interesting dessert? For one, liquid nitrogen ice cream can be found in many high school chemistry classes. It caught on as a school demonstration around 1969, when the idea was first published in an article in the Journal of Dairy Science. At the time, there was rampant popular interest in the development of space food, thanks to the public’s fascination with NASA. Then, in 1987 the confectionery brand Dippin’ Dots took advantage of the innovation and brought its now-famous small spheres of freeze-dried ice cream to market, touting them as the “Ice Cream of the Future.”

These days, though, the trend has expanded further into the commercial realm, and fresh liquid nitrogen ice cream (which retains its creaminess and flavor much better than Dippin’ Dots’ pre-made offerings) can be found at specialty restaurants like the Sub Zero Cryo Creamery in Utah and the Blue Sky Creamery, which has a few locations in the Western US. The most convenient option for Philly residents is Lulu & Mooky’s, on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, which makes the treats to order while enraptured visitors look on.

While liquid nitrogen ice cream is rather expensive to make, and the nitrogen can be dangerous if mishandled, this treat is unique and delicious enough that it’s worth at least one try from any true ice cream lover. BY KAREN MAN

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Check out Penn Appétit’s companion blog, updated daily with restaurant reviews, recipes and foodie musings

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Restaurant Reviews 1

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KHYBER PASS PUB Southern favorites that occasionally give way to a Japanese pop-up menu 56 S. 2nd Street 215-238-5888

4

PERCY STREET BBQ South Street’s oasis of Southern-style barbecue and comfort food 900 S. 9th Street 215-625-8510

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FOGO DE CHAO A meat lover’s paradise­— stop by for Brazilian steaks and friendly service 1337 Chestnut Street 215-636-9700

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HAN DYNASTY Some of the tastiest and most authentic Chinese food in Philly 108 Chestnut Street 215-922-1888 GARCES TRADING CO Spanish, French and Italian delicacies with a hint of countryside elegance 1111 Locust Street 215-574-1099 TRIA The perfect marriage of wine, cheese and beer with simple, delicious food 1137 Spruce Street 215-629-9200

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Recipes Online

Go online for more recipes and photos: (pictured counter clockwise) Julia Child’s Roti de Porc Poele; BUTTERBEER CUPCAKES; Rapini, Feta and Lemon Quiche; Pesto Pasta spring 2011

Featuring Butterbeer Cupcakes Bring the Wizarding World of Harry Potter to your kitchen with this recipe, which uses cream soda and butterscotch to recreate the taste of the famous drink in dessert form.

INGREDIENTS

DIRECTIONS

For the batter 2 cups flour 1 1/2 tsp baking powder 1/2 tsp baking soda 1/4 tsp salt 8 Tbsp unsalted butter 1/2 cup granulated sugar 1/2 cup dark brown sugar 3 eggs 1 1/2 tsp vanilla 1 tsp butter flavoring 1/2 cup buttermilk 1/2 cup cream soda

For the cupcakes, preheat the oven to 350 degrees and line cupcake pans with paper liners. Combine your flour, baking soda, baking powder and salt in a bowl and set aside. In a large bowl, cream your butter until light and fluffy. Add your sugars and beat until well-combined. Beat in your eggs, one at a time, mixing well after each addition. Then beat in your vanilla and butter flavoring. Alternate adding your buttermilk, cream soda and dry ingredients. Fill each cupcake 3/4 full, then bake for 20 minutes until a tester inserted into the center comes out clean.

For the icing 1 stick unsalted butter 1/3 cup butterscotch syrup 1 tsp vanilla 1 tsp butter flavoring 16 oz powdered sugar

For the icing, cream butter in a large bowl until fluffy. Add in butterscotch syrup, vanilla, butter flavoring, and mix until well combined. Beat in powdered sugar 1 cup at a time until reaching desired consistency. penn appétit

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