And so it went, up and down these reanimating blocks in South Philly - the music of a laid-back band in the air; the demand outstripping supply at the 17 stands; the dinner bell sounded by the Food Trust, heeded far beyond the startled organizers' expectations.
"If there's one thing we learned," said the Trust's April White, "it's this: More vendors!"
But another lesson seemed just as obvious: There are few communal draws - the Phillies, of course, being one - that are now as powerful in this city as food; from roving cupcake trucks to pop-up restaurants (that blossom for three-night stands), from idealistic urban farms to, leading the pack, the outdoor farm markets that have become a don't-miss weekly ritual for twenty- and thirty-somethings.
In an untouchable virtual world, sidewalk cafes and food trucks and "night markets" (another one is planned for spring) have emerged as concrete touchstones - the social network made flesh and blood and turnip.
And that goes for the butchers and bakers, too: "It's not work . . .," Jess Ford, a baker at the Madison, Wis., farmers market was quoted as saying recently, "it's my social life."
With the family dinner nearly extinct or outgrown; with younger settlers moving into - and redefining - Fishtown and Northern Liberties and South Philadelphia; with old traditions going the way of pepper pot soup, there's an appetite growing for a new reality, a replacement meal, you might say.
