tap that

it's proof that a place is special when you've been there countless times, and each visit renews your love tenfold. this is how i feel about the south philly taproom. yeah, the service might not always be at 100%, but i'm learning to chill out and slow down in my older age, and not get all annoyed when a server is sort of moseying around instead of hustling toward my table. the rest of sptr (or "spitter," as i sometimes call it) kicks so much ass that i can safely call it one of my favorite bars/restaurants in philadelphia.

the decor and layout of this joint are spot on. during the day with the windows open, the dining room is happy and breezy. at night, rustic vintage light fixtures keep the bar dim and cozy (but not too dark), good tunes float through the speakers (but not too loud), and you and whomever you're with can settle in for a real good time. the draft list consistently reads as a who's who of local craft beermakers with a few midwestern, west coast, and international brew dudes thrown in for good measure. i can always find something i'm stoked to sip on, and they have, like, a majillion bottles to choose from if you're not feeling draft-y.

the food menu is also simply stellar with clearly marked vegetarian options aplenty. vegans, fear not: the spitter has got you covered. there are some decent soups and salads, but their vegan hoagie - packed to the gills with savory tempeh, marinated mushrooms, lettuce, tomato and thinly sliced red onion - is not to be missed:

there is a wonderfully unconscionable amount of vegan mayo on this roll

sandwiches come with a side of thick cut fries, chopped salad, OR pasta salad. hooray for choices! to boot, $3 gets you a dish of bangin house made pickles and, according to the omnivores i know, they also prepare delicious meats. for brunch, the dairy-free inclined can rock a very interesting plate of mushroom studded tofu scramble that comes flanked with a watercress salad and hard-to-describe but FANtastic white rice dumplings.

it really does something for me when an establishment has different kinds of seating for different kinds of moods. the taproom offers lots of options: well worn stools at the long, curved bar, plenty of high top tables, intimate low round tables, and a big booth in the back by the windows, perfect for gathering with ten or so of your BFFs.

best seats in the house

south hicks & mifflin maybe used to seem like a random corner for a great lil pub, but the neighborhood has come a long way, and outside tables provide copious people and cute dog watching. they also frequently host cool events, including a well edited selection for the impending 2011 philly beer week (including a lagunitas "420" event on june 9th featuring stoner snacks - does it get any better?). sptr- what can i say but: i love you!

xo,
emily

non edible delights

on my way to work on tuesday, i had to stop at blick art supplies to grab some face paint for an upcoming event at the dorm i work in. despite the lingering sleep still in my eyes, i felt a nice buzz riding through downtown, watching the world crank up for the day. after locking my bike up on the corner of sansom and chestnut, i noticed this little sign right next to the door leading down to blick:

in a city as old as philadelphia, you see a lot of historical monument signs outside of buildings and homes, and while it's a cool reminder of how much has happened here, you sort of get used to it. however, this sign (or "tablet" as it refers to itself) gave me a distinct thrill. who on earth is the mystery admirer who placed it on this wall? what did eakin's studio look like in 1885? can anyone just put up a tablet commemorating an artist of historical significance? and calling yourself "an admirer" is so much more romantic than "anonymous," or a real name! maybe it was the lack of coffee in my system, but something about this sight just made me swoon with joy.

with a lingering smile, i bounded down the steps into blick. i forgot how visually overwhelming big art stores can be, and to add to it, this one in particular is lit insanely brightly, so everything just pops. my eyes immediately pulled me in a hundred directions, toward different colors, textures and shapes.

keep in mind that i don't actively make this kind of visual art. despite my years of art classes in middle and high school, i wouldn't really know what to do with a tube of oil paint or tiny plastic trees. the things i felt compelled to photograph don't appeal to me because i want to buy them - they're just weirdly pleasing to my eye.

wandering through the store, i thought about how a real artist might feel in here: aisles and aisles of glossy new materials and tools ready to make anything the heart desires. so much potential energy waiting to be unleashed through eyes and fingers out into the world. then it hit me - this is exactly how i feel upon entering a well-stocked grocery store or farmer's market. different items seem to whisper of what could be, and as i take it all in, ideas start to form in my brain, called into being by some mysterious force of creativity. so many things seem possible as i fill my cart with assorted sundries.

the connection between art and well prepared food shined brightly as i considered all this on the way to blick's kids section. whether it's a white wall, public park, or an empty porcelain plate, filling spaces with form and/or sensation that didn't exist before is what makes life tolerable, even beautiful. it's what makes us feel connected to one another. it's what prompted an admirer to hang a plaque for thomas eakins on a dirty gray wall in center city.


love,
emily

pack a bowl (full of salad greens)

it's not like dressing a salad with tongs or a wooden fork & spoon is that much of a chore, but something about it just annoys me. precious ingredients always go man overboard or i get balsamic on my white shirt or something. first world problems, i know. but sometimes, it's the little things that separates mundane tasks from being a pain in the ass and being no big deal. this set of bowls - in cheery crayon hues and sturdy as hell - are kitchen tools i find myself using almost every day. it might be funny to think of plain old mixing bowls as "tools," but they really do wonders. the secret is all in the lids!


they make the act of preparing a salad the easiest thing in the world. everything goes in, dressing is drizzled on top, lid is snapped on, and then you shake shake shake shake shake shake shake shake. you get full, even coverage of dressing on the salad, with no sad dry greens hiding at the bottom.

trying to eat more spinach these days

the lid + shake technique is especially good with coleslaw. plus, for leftovers you don't need crappy tupperware - the bowl is its own leftovers container! you don't have to look too far for thrills in my kitchen. my set is by martha stewart (who i've learned to stop hating and start sorta appreciating), but there are surely other good brands if you think m.s. is a zombie lady and are loath to give her any of your money. ooh, here's some nice ones on amazon. a bit pricey, but anything that makes you want to eat more salad is a worthy investment, in my book.

love,
emily

lifesaver

for some reason or another (could've been my very recent birthday and the extension of the annual shenanigans? or the highly anticipated return of this reason for copious beer consumption?), this weekend was a doozy. without even really trying to, i partied with the gusto of a woman ten years my younger. raucous times with friends, ballgames, quality time with my fella: all were so, super fun, but i felt hella worse for the wear come this morning.

my idea of a "hangover cure" is usually coffee and some steely resolve. however, this morning i realized, while pawing around aimlessly through our fridge, that we had all the makings for one of my favorite breakfasts - and, coincidental nutrition-bombs - of all time.


kale smoothies! i was first introduced to the idea of raw kale pulverized with other, more traditional, smoothie ingredients by the wonderfully weird folks at the satellite cafe in my old stomping grounds of west philadelphia. i can't be sure, but i think their kale smoothie involves pineapple juice, kale, coconut milk and some other stuff. my at-home version was a bit different, but that is the beauty of smoothies, right? you can just throw whatever produce you've got into a blender, give that thing a whirl, and out comes a delicious breakfast beverage!

let's not front: it is the kale that saves your life. without it, you've just got some pulverized fruit and juice, which certainly does a world of good for your aching body as opposed to a jelly donut or whatever. but it's the beta carotein, vitamin and calcium packed green that somehow makes you feel like a million bucks (well, a thousand, maybe) when you woke up feeling like a piece of gum stuck to someone's shoe.

The Lifesaver
~takes 5 minutes
~makes 1 large, or 2 small smoothies

ingredients:
1 cup of kale, tough stems removed and torn into small pieces
1/2 cup plain low fat or soy yogurt
1 ripe banana
1 handful of grapes
3/4 cup orange, mango or pineapple juice
1 tablespoon ground flax seed (optional)

- slice the banana into pieces. put into a blender, or into a tumbler that can handle an immersion blender.

- add the yogurt, kale and grapes.

- pour the juice on top, and blend. add a bit more liquid if needed.

- to really kick your hangover's ass, stir in 1 tablespoon of ground flax seed after blending. but if that's like, too much effort for your weary bones, just chug that smoothie and wait for the rush of well-being to kick in.

the kale smoothie in its natural habitat

so, even though i pick my poison...at least i've got the antidote, right?

love,
emily

grade A upgrade

perhaps one of the most important kitchen tools, as far as blogs go, is a camera. of course not nearly as important as a sharp knife, a good cast iron skillet, a reliable gas stove, or a kick ass food processor. though some would probably argue this point, preparing and especially EATING the food we make is far more important than blogging about it. documenting and finding clever things to say about our meals is fun and rewarding, but the cooking comes first.

however, since i do find myself in the casual business of publicly sharing the culinary part of my life with all who care to read and view, it's nice to feel like i'm doing it with some style. up until very recently, i felt severely limited in this respect by my pedestrian point-and- shoot digital camera. even the best lighting scenarios i could muster - even just nice daylight by the window sill - never seemed to do the food, or the labor i put into it, justice. what's the fun in reading about food without some visual evidence? i thank you all for bearing with some seriously less than stunning photography.

however, all this is about to change! tuesday was my 29th birthday, and bestowed upon me was an incredibly generous, thoughtful and totally out-of-the-blue gift from ryan and my mom:

hello, beautiful

this slick digi SLR beast is all mine, and it's just killer. i hate to brag, but i'm just so stoked on it and wanted to share with you all! i feel like i just graduated, or something. anyway, from this day forward, expect a serious upgrade from the VR photography. except maybe for photos taken outside of our house - i am still too nervous to bring my new camera out into the harsh world!

love,
emily

the bitter end

back in the days of collective living in west philly, one of the all-time best housemates, mary maker, bought a bottle of campari for our house bar. perhaps it was for a special cake flavor, as she was wont to experiment with, or a brief flirtation with before-dinner cocktails - the reason isn't as important as the fact that, unlike every other form of alcohol to grace the shelves in our house, this one wasn't sucked down within moments of entering the building. and because i can't bear to throw out perfectly good booze, i've spent the last few years lugging the half full bottle of crimson, syrupy liquer from one rental to another. an ounce or two has been sipped, but for the most part it has stood quietly amongst the other, more popular inhabitants of our liquor cabinets.

campari, like most bitter flavors, is foreign to the average young drinker's palate. the flavor profile isn't one we're introduced to often as children, and when we are, we're generally conditioned to equate these tastes as "medicinal," or just "gross." while i still don't think a glass of straight campari is my tipple of choice, i've come to appreciate a dose of bitterness in my older age. maybe this can be attributed to the fabled every-7-year-taste-buds-changeover (when foods and flavors you used to despise are suddenly tolerable, or even enjoyable). or maybe it was my stint at the 40th street Capogiro, whose italian-centric liquor selection included amaro of many shades and strenghts that i cautiously sampled throughout my time working there. i found that when i really gave these strange new flavors a fighting chance, instead of just assuming i wouldn't like them, some of them were really quite wonderful.

and so lately, the ancient bottle of campari in my possession has been slowly but surely disappearing. finishing the bottle - which at one time seemed like an insurmountable feat - is now immanent, and when the last drop is gone, i just might buy another. the "negroni sodi," as i've dubbed it, is my new favorite apertif of choice: just the right amount of astringent to rev up the old appetite before dinner.


Negroni Sodi - a lovingly bastardized apertif
~makes 1 cocktail

ingredients:
1 ounce good quality gin (or, whatever, you can use crappy gin if you want to)
1/2 ounce dry vermouth
1/2 ounce campari
seltzer
slice of orange (optional)

- fill a rocks glass full of ice cubes.

- pour the gin, then slowly add the vermouth and campari.

- top with cold seltzer water, and stir gently. garnish with an orange wedge if you want to go the extra mile.

- imbibe. but be prepared! this manner of cocktail really does stimulate your appetite, so if dinner isn't for another hour or two, have some little snacks on hand!


for fancier times, the gin/vermouth/campari can be topped with sparking wine - a negroni royale! i've always love the fact that champagne or sparking wine added to almost any beverage makes it a "royale." sound so much classier than "spritzer," don't you think?

love,
emily

evil twin

on a whim the other week, i brought a nice cache of fresh fennel back from the superfresh (goddamn, i miss the farmer's market). once breaking two lovely bulbs down, i realized it was just too much fennel for one dish. well, it would've been the perfect amount for tomato soup with two fennels, but we were in the midst of a spell of warm weather, and i was feeling kinda souped out.

so in the interest of diversification, i tried two very different approaches to preparing this licorice scented beaut. the first was a crunchy, tangy salad that plays the clean, citrusy flavors of grapefruit off the clean, sharp flavors of the fennel. a handful of thinly sliced red onion added a pungency which popped against a backdrop of tender lettuce leaves. i then dressed this pink and purple melange with a light shower of orange juice, mild honey, red wine vinegar and xvo. this salad brought a fierce brightness to the plate, which is just what a winter salad should do. it would be a great compliment to a rich entree of stew, pasta, or braised protein.


i reserved the other half of the fennel slivers for another night, which, in typical spring fashion, was as cold and rainy as the previous night had been warm and breezy. so, i decided to take a totally opposite direction, with an easy, fuss free recipe from the stellar The Essential NY Times Cookbook by amanda hesser. the fennel is steamed for just under ten minutes, and then sauced with a chile-infused olive oil, and a touch of salt and pepper. i lined the plate with a bed of arugula in a half assed attempt to squeeze some more greens into my diet.

i really love vegetables that are equally good cooked and raw, and fennel really wins in both cases. it's so hard to imagine when eating it in its sweet and crunchy raw state that it can also be transformed into a silky version of itself. these two wildly different treatments of fennel reminds me of that always enthralling narrative theme - the evil twin. like, the raw fennel salad is cheery, sweet and straightforward, while the spicy, steamed fennel is mysterious, rich, almost musky. ok, i'll stop personifying my food and just get on with recipe already.

Steamed Fennel with Spicy Olive Oil
adapted from The Essential New York Times Cookbook by Amanda Hesser
~takes about 15 minutes~

ingredients:
1-2 fresh fennel bulbs, trimmed and sliced thinly (i mean, really you can make this with as much or little fennel as you'd like - just adjust the amount of olive oil)
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil
1-2 teaspoons crushed red pepper flakes, depending on how much spiciness you enjoy

- place the fennel in a steaming basket over a pot of gently boiling water. steam until tender, 5-7 minutes.

- in the meantime, put the olive oil in a small pot over a very, very low flame. after it is gently warmed, turn the heat off and swirl in the red pepper flakes. set this aside. if you are in the habit of making your own olive oil infusions, this would be a wonderful opportunity to skip this step entirely and use your ready-to-go flavored oil.

- when the fennel is done, plate it as artfully or messily as you care to. gently drizzle the infused olive oil over it, and sprinkle with a pinch of salt and pepper, to taste.

while you eat it, listen to this song and think about all the awesomely dangerous, selfish and lascivious things you would do if you had an evil twin.

love,
emily