Yes, I know. We’re all busy stuffing dark chocolate M&Ms into our faces, banging on our TVs to dislodge the final scene of The Sopranos, and looking up our friends’ addresses on Google Street View, to see if we can spy them bumpin’ uglies with the drapes open. And others of us are sidelined with a fatigued right groin. Perhaps from the bumping of the uglies. But life is short, people. And there’s much to eat.
I’ve been eating much of it at Philadelphia’s 30th Street Station of late. One of the busiest passenger rail facilities in the US, and not a bad place to kick it and wait for your train home to NYC. Across the street is the new Cira Centre that glitters, if you look at it right. Northbound trains take you past the riverfront scull crew houses strung with lights, and the deliciously whiney “TRENTON MAKES, THE WORLD TAKES” bridge sign in red neon. The 1930s station boasts a cavernous main concourse with stories-high windows and a dozen or so art deco chandeliers. A fully functioning shoeshine station and Old World wooden benches that vibrate when those seated on them fart. (If anyone knows whether others seated nearby can feel this, do let me know. Just… curious.) The most helpful homeless peeps you’ll ever wanna meet hang in this station. A massive marble special events room. The only event I’ve ever seen going on in there was late one night, two jugglers practicing. Big, gruesome statue of a winged angel dragging a dead railroad worker. And at the holidays, a giant, towering, fuck-you sized Christmas tree. Gotta love Philly.
The station’s food court selections are surprisingly feeble, though. Here’s the Pleasure Pie run-down, in no particular:
Auntie Anne’s – You’ll wanna take them up on their free sample before you plunk down three crispies for a lemonade more cloyingly sweet than a soft-focus puppy. Lemons is tart, Auntie!
Delilah’s Southern Café – Cryptically endorsed by Oprah, Delilah’s just can’t seem to get it right. The help is dim and every time I eat there, they’re out of something critical to the enjoyment of my meal. The idea is great, but their execution just misses the mark. The greens will be thick with a leathery sheen, wonderfully not overcooked, but also not very flavorful. The cornbread is sweet and cake-y, but over-baked. The fish cakes will be chunky and have a satisfying texture, but will be bland and dry. Choice of sauces? Hot sauce or nothin’. Ain’t Oprah never et her no real Southern cookin’? On a recent visit, I asked the counter girl what was good. “What did you have for lunch today?” “I didn’t eat lunch here.” Make something up, Girlfriend!
Bridgewater’s Pub – Serves wild boar and yak, but I recommend this really good walnutty, balsamic vinegary salad thing I’ve had twice, but I can recall neither the name of it, nor the ingredients of the salad. Neither can I recall why I’ve not had their yak burger. Sounds right up my alley. Maybe they were outta yak.
Asian Food Fair – A congealed looking steamer table along a major food court thoroughfare. I’ve never seen anyone actually eating the stuff. Just sayin’.
Bucks County Coffee – Completely addictive. Avoid, if you’re a broke-ass girl like me. Or be prepared to find your wallet a hundred bucks lighter at the end of the month. But oh, mercy.
Ben & Jerry’s – Never heard of Stephen Colbert. I asked twice.
McDonalds – The clock’s been wrong for years (ill-advised for a big city train station restaurant, I’d think) and to get an iced coffee, you’ll have to point, instruct, and throw the first few away. But it’s clean and spacious, and best of all… dollar doubles. Even though my meals are covered by an expense account, I often opt for the nostalgically-priced (now more than twice the price in some parts of Manhattan), reconstituted onion topped double cheeseburger. Sometimes you just need something soft and mindless. The McDonalds double cheeseburger is soft and mindless. It's like the Jay Leno of burgers.
Saladworks – I love this place. They have signature salads, some of which don’t make much sense, but I recommend building your own. Tasty dressings (including my low-brow fave, Thousand Island) and fresh ingredients, including pretty good sun-dried tomatoes and Buffalo chicken chunks. And they toss it using patented space age inversion technology. (They flip it a couple times.) This place is your best bet. Unless you wanna just get a cab to Tony Luke’s for a downright life-affirming Italian roast pork sandwich with provolone, sautéed broccoli rabe, and garlic breath for days.
And don’t forget to hit Faber News before boarding. Thee place to stock up on TastyKakes to take home to New York City, where demand is high (in my apartment, anyway) and availability is spotty.
I’ve been eating much of it at Philadelphia’s 30th Street Station of late. One of the busiest passenger rail facilities in the US, and not a bad place to kick it and wait for your train home to NYC. Across the street is the new Cira Centre that glitters, if you look at it right. Northbound trains take you past the riverfront scull crew houses strung with lights, and the deliciously whiney “TRENTON MAKES, THE WORLD TAKES” bridge sign in red neon. The 1930s station boasts a cavernous main concourse with stories-high windows and a dozen or so art deco chandeliers. A fully functioning shoeshine station and Old World wooden benches that vibrate when those seated on them fart. (If anyone knows whether others seated nearby can feel this, do let me know. Just… curious.) The most helpful homeless peeps you’ll ever wanna meet hang in this station. A massive marble special events room. The only event I’ve ever seen going on in there was late one night, two jugglers practicing. Big, gruesome statue of a winged angel dragging a dead railroad worker. And at the holidays, a giant, towering, fuck-you sized Christmas tree. Gotta love Philly.
The station’s food court selections are surprisingly feeble, though. Here’s the Pleasure Pie run-down, in no particular:
Auntie Anne’s – You’ll wanna take them up on their free sample before you plunk down three crispies for a lemonade more cloyingly sweet than a soft-focus puppy. Lemons is tart, Auntie!
Delilah’s Southern Café – Cryptically endorsed by Oprah, Delilah’s just can’t seem to get it right. The help is dim and every time I eat there, they’re out of something critical to the enjoyment of my meal. The idea is great, but their execution just misses the mark. The greens will be thick with a leathery sheen, wonderfully not overcooked, but also not very flavorful. The cornbread is sweet and cake-y, but over-baked. The fish cakes will be chunky and have a satisfying texture, but will be bland and dry. Choice of sauces? Hot sauce or nothin’. Ain’t Oprah never et her no real Southern cookin’? On a recent visit, I asked the counter girl what was good. “What did you have for lunch today?” “I didn’t eat lunch here.” Make something up, Girlfriend!
Bridgewater’s Pub – Serves wild boar and yak, but I recommend this really good walnutty, balsamic vinegary salad thing I’ve had twice, but I can recall neither the name of it, nor the ingredients of the salad. Neither can I recall why I’ve not had their yak burger. Sounds right up my alley. Maybe they were outta yak.
Asian Food Fair – A congealed looking steamer table along a major food court thoroughfare. I’ve never seen anyone actually eating the stuff. Just sayin’.
Bucks County Coffee – Completely addictive. Avoid, if you’re a broke-ass girl like me. Or be prepared to find your wallet a hundred bucks lighter at the end of the month. But oh, mercy.
Ben & Jerry’s – Never heard of Stephen Colbert. I asked twice.
McDonalds – The clock’s been wrong for years (ill-advised for a big city train station restaurant, I’d think) and to get an iced coffee, you’ll have to point, instruct, and throw the first few away. But it’s clean and spacious, and best of all… dollar doubles. Even though my meals are covered by an expense account, I often opt for the nostalgically-priced (now more than twice the price in some parts of Manhattan), reconstituted onion topped double cheeseburger. Sometimes you just need something soft and mindless. The McDonalds double cheeseburger is soft and mindless. It's like the Jay Leno of burgers.
Saladworks – I love this place. They have signature salads, some of which don’t make much sense, but I recommend building your own. Tasty dressings (including my low-brow fave, Thousand Island) and fresh ingredients, including pretty good sun-dried tomatoes and Buffalo chicken chunks. And they toss it using patented space age inversion technology. (They flip it a couple times.) This place is your best bet. Unless you wanna just get a cab to Tony Luke’s for a downright life-affirming Italian roast pork sandwich with provolone, sautéed broccoli rabe, and garlic breath for days.
And don’t forget to hit Faber News before boarding. Thee place to stock up on TastyKakes to take home to New York City, where demand is high (in my apartment, anyway) and availability is spotty.
5 comments:
No Philly cheesesteaks?
If you would like to see some interesting, unique, or just plain strange Street View finds :
http://www.mapmole.com
Feel free to view, vote and submit.
I happily travel to South Philly for my cheesesteaks, Anonymous. Boardwalk Fries in the train station has one on display, but I find that unless they’re shellacked (and often even then), food displays are generally a bad idea. It can be the ferociousest cheesesteak in all of BrotherlyLoveTown, but once the glisten has gone, so has its visual appeal.
Y’know. Just like with chicks.
Thanks, J. I'll check it out.
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