June 23, 2011 |
Outlet: ALLEY GRILL We were there: Pregame, 6:20 p.m. Wait for service: About 5 minutes. Order: Double cheeseburger, garlic fries. Cost: $13.75. Phindings: Tucked away in the left-field corner of Ashburn Alley behind Harry The K's, the Alley Grill deals mostly in burger variations. My double cheeseburger - two American-cheese-covered patties, a dab of ketchup, a schmear of mustard and two tissue-thin pickle chips on a standard toasted potato bun - was filling and tasty enough, but hardly memorable.
October 16, 2015 |
Andy's Chicken is no fast-food joint. Despite the nonstop buzz behind the counter of its no-frills take-out corner, this red-hot Fishtown newcomer may, in fact, be the slowest Korean fried chicken take-out operation in the city, obliging a call-ahead order at least a half-hour in advance, and, if my experience was typical, an extra 15 minutes of patience on top of that. But it's worth the logistical challenge. Because Andy's is easily one of the best in this recent wave of new K.F.C.
June 19, 2002 |
Look out Tony Luke's: You've got competition uptown. Her name: Helen Morganstein. Morganstein works the counter at The Carousel Shop on 3rd Street between Walnut and Locust, a small, 26-year-old ice cream shop and luncheonette. She seems like a sweet lady to the kids ordering ice cream cones and the neighbors who drop by to chat, but Morganstein is fierce when she's in the kitchen. Her customers keep asking for her roast pork and broccoli rabe sandwich, a recipe that requires a day's worth of roasting and some serious pork-pulling.
May 2, 1986 |
The owner plays the piano and sings ballads of love and romance while candles flicker on every table. The chef, meanwhile, blends lots of garlic into soup and sauces and even spreads it thickly on the bread. Good for your heart, tough on romance, despite Tom Borrelli's earnest crooning. The heavy-handed use of garlic and the soft music are just one of the inconsistencies of Cafe Borrelli, a well- intentioned new Center City restaurant. The waitresses are pretty, pleasant, and unpolished.
March 9, 1990 |
After the waiter described the veal-chop special, I asked if garlic could be added. He said it could and then offered another way to prepare it. I countered with yet another. The waiter paused, perhaps sizing up the limits of my adventuresome nature. "The chef also makes the veal chop with anchovies," he said, showing confidence in his kitchen. "You'd be surprised - it's really very, very good. It's a recipe of Marcella Hazan's. " Aside from having a fondness for anchovies and garlic, I'm particularly enamored with what popular cook-teacher-author Hazan does with and for Italian cooking.
May 4, 1988 |
There are different stories as to how a basic Italian tomato sauce made from whole tomatoes became known as a marinara sauce. Since marinara translates closely from Italian to "sailor suit," some say that the sauce was described thusly in areas that bordered the sea. Others claim the name was bestowed upon the sauce by the wives of the sailors - mariners - who prepared it when their husbands returned home. Yet another tale says the name comes from the sailors themselves, from the days before refrigeration when meat would perish on a long journey but a tomato could survive long enough to become a delicious sauce made with herbs.
November 29, 1989 |
Many people, when they taste tripe for the first time, are surprised by its delicate, mild flavor. They expect it to be tough and strong-tasting. Some home cooks are not even quite sure what tripe is. Generally speaking, it is a section of a bovine's stomach, though the definition sometimes is extended to include stomach sections of goats, pigs, sheep and even deer. Plain tripe is taken from the bovine's first stomach. It's flat with a smooth, rubbery texture. The best tripe comes from the second stomach and looks like a honeycomb - hence the name honeycomb tripe.
January 22, 2016
Although this dish looks like something you've tasted before, the combination of Chinese five-spice powder and a garlicky ginger-scallion topping makes it altogether different. You'll need an instant-read thermometer and a good exhaust fan. Five-Spice Steak 4 to 6 servings 1 bone-in rib eye steak (about 1 pound, at least 1 inch thick) 11/2 teaspoons Chinese five-spice powder 1 teaspoon kosher salt 1/2 teaspoon freshly cracked black pepper 1 small red Thai/bird's-eye chili pepper 2 teaspoons toasted sesame oil 1 clove garlic 1-inch piece fresh ginger root 1 tablespoon unseasoned rice vinegar 2 teaspoons tamari (may sub low-sodium soy sauce)
August 9, 1989 |
Picnics aren't important, at least not in the sense of being a Big Deal. Unplanned and unpretentious, thrown together and torn into, they're more for relaxing than impressing. Fuss over a picnic and the fun goes out of it. No true picnic takes longer to prepare than it does to eat, nor requires more marketing than picking up a melon on the way to the park. The food should be simple. Extravagance is out of line, for the best picnics do nothing more than fill the belly and leave a smile.
February 15, 1987 |
The day has been super-exhausting, and you're feeling particularly stressed. You're suffering from high anxiety, a million things are on your mind and it's tough falling asleep. Eventually, you make contact with the sandman, only to awaken at 3 a.m. in a head-to-toe state of tension. There's a churning in your stomach. What do you do? Take a sleeping pill? If you're Joseph Della Guardia, you forgo any pharmaceutical solution. Instead, you grab your robe, go down to the kitchen, flip the light switch, throw open the cabinets and begin fishing around for the garlic, basil, olive oil, fettucine and tomatoes.