Upper Crust

Bonnie Foehr credits her success to cream cheese and orange marmalade. The culinary-arts student at Middle Bucks Institute of Technology in Jamison won a $4,000 scholarship to the Culinary Institute of America for her apple pie creation. "My secret is the ingredients in the piecrust," Foehr said. "I use cream cheese as a substitute for butter, and that gives a creamy texture. Once it comes out of the oven, I wipe orange marmalade on the outside, which makes it shiny and gives it flavor.

Gary Bauer had a congressman on the phone the other day, and he was working the guy pretty hard. He was laying on the guilt. He was arguing that morality, not money, should guide American foreign policy, and that Congress should revoke China's free-trade privileges and send the message that human rights abuses will not be tolerated. Bauer, a rising star of the religious right, could tell that his pitch had made an impact. The congressman was practically in tears. Later today, the House is expected to vote on whether to renew China's "most favored nation" status, a deal that allows its goods - and those of most nations - to enter these shores without high tariffs.

There we were, ready to depart for a weekend at this posh seaside resort, when the weather forecast arrived on the radio. Rain. I was tempted not to go. After all, I was not in the mood for a bad movie, bowling, or staring out the window of an expensive hotel, yearning for a piece of blue sky. As it turned out, not a drop fell during our two-day jaunt to Newport. But I quickly learned that this was one shore town that has plenty of things to do - no matter what the weather.

L.D. Bassett Inc., which since 1861 has been bringing Philadelphians "old- fashioned, extravagant" ice cream, has added a line of Upper Crust Ice Cream Pies to its roster of 36 ice cream flavors. The pies are the first new product line to be offered in the firm's 126-year-history. Ann Bassett, president of the family-owned company, will introduce the new line this afternoon at a private champagne-tasting at the Bassett's Ice Cream Stand, a fixture at the Reading Terminal Market since 1893.

MAYOR Nutter, what would happen if the pool in your neighborhood was closed so that your child didn't have access to it? You can take your children to a private pool or the Y. But why is it that every time there are budget cuts in the city, it always has to be in the poorest neighborhoods? The children in these areas can't travel to other neighborhoods because of fear and because it's too far to travel. Have a heart, Mayor Nutter, and open up the pools for these children. When cuts are needed, it's always the libraries in the poor neighborhoods.

QUEEN GRACIOUSLY REQUESTS THE PLEASURE OF ATTENDANTS Wanted: lavatory attendants, wardens and cashiers for the opening of Buckingham Palace in August. Applicants for the 60 $7.52-an-hour posts at the palace must have "a genuine desire to work with the public," said a want ad in the London Evening Standard. Queen Elizabeth is opening her London residence to tourists to help finance the $62 million repair bill for her fire-ravaged Windsor Castle rather than let the government pick up the bill at a time when the royal family is under fire for its morals, its privileges and its wealth.

Sociologist E. Digby Baltzell, who died Saturday at age 80, was a rarity in Philadelphia: a homegrown critic of the city whom other Philadelphians eventually forgave. His extensive research into leadership and the white upper class led him to conclude that the city's Quaker heritage - its emphasis on the virtues of modesty, consensus and equality - was the reason Philadelphia's elite never asserted itself effectively in civic affairs. And he compared this city's upper crust unfavorably with Boston's, in terms of how well it performed what he saw as its duty of leadership.

Some of you may remember Harding's Run. Or Upper Crust. Both were attempts to guess what it is that a Main Line diner expects of a restaurant that shares quarters with a lineup of tennis courts. For reasons I found unfathomable, Upper Crust had windows overlooking sweating bodies in endless pursuit of whatever it is that tennis players pursue. With admirable taste, the next restaurant at the location - Harding's Run - chose to change the focus to the serene landscape surrounding this big, barnlike building in the heart of Radnor corporate country.

The gates swing back, and elegance unfolds. Sculpture in the yard, palms and stucco, a low, tiled roof, columns beside columns, arches by arches. It is the speech of architectural echo, whispering deluxe. And then deluxe and deluxe again. This 5-acre estate in Gladwyne is the upper crust of the upper crust, an extravagant fantasy of a place as exotic on the Main Line as the area's famous fieldstone would be in Arabia. And it could be yours, if spirit and money move you, for a mere $4 million or so. Actually, the place Sotheby's International Realty calls a "Mediterranean compound" is on the market for $4.2 million, but who wants to quibble over a couple hundred thousand?

Near the start of the second act of High Society, the new-old musical at the St. James Theatre, those splendid troupers John McMartin and Randy Graff sidle downstage on Loy Arcenas' ballroom set and line out a sassy Cole Porter song called "I'm Getting Myself Ready for You. " The song (with additional lyrics by Susan Birkenhead) is slyly sophisticated, and the performers know exactly how to sell it. It's an infectious moment. It is also the only moment in this misbegotten musical that won't have Cole Porter whirling in his bier.

Here's a medieval way to think about this spring's graphic trend: Stripes are for bad girls. Lines - wide or thin, horizontal or vertical, matte or metallic - are now the print of choice on scoop-neck Ts and shirt dresses. From Pucci to Peter Som, stripes are in! But their place in fashion history isn't rooted in all-American style. In fact, stripes go back to the Middle Ages and - I'm here to tell you - the devil. According to The Devil's Cloth: A History of Stripes by French historian Michel Pastoureau, Carmelite monks returned from a 1254 trip to Palestine wearing striped cloaks.

Dubbed "The Game of Kings" in sixth-century Persia, polo still conjures visions of manicured lawns, tight white breeches, and rows of gleaming horses. Not so at a grubby little roller-hockey rink at Front Street and Washington Avenue. "3-2-1-GO!" a voice bellows from the sidelines, and six polo players fly toward center court, racing to gain possession of the ball. Two players reach the center at the same time, scrabbling for control. A third player joins the fray, steals the ball, is catapulted through the air, and lands on the ground, mallet still in hand.

MAYOR Nutter, what would happen if the pool in your neighborhood was closed so that your child didn't have access to it? You can take your children to a private pool or the Y. But why is it that every time there are budget cuts in the city, it always has to be in the poorest neighborhoods? The children in these areas can't travel to other neighborhoods because of fear and because it's too far to travel. Have a heart, Mayor Nutter, and open up the pools for these children. When cuts are needed, it's always the libraries in the poor neighborhoods.

I like to think I'm not alone in my Thanksgiving anxiety. So many dishes to serve, so much emotional baggage to ignore. In recent years, my anxiety centered on the inevitably uneven number of guests vs. chairs. This year brings a new wrinkle: My daughter is bringing home a friend - a special friend who just happens to be a top editor at a well-known magazine for gourmands. In its Thanksgiving issue, which features a sumptuous cover photograph of Crisp Apple-Scented Roast Turkey with Cider-Calvados Gravy, my Dinner Guest casually mentions her favorite appetizers for the holiday: "armagnac-marinated bacon-wrapped prunes, duck foie gras topped with gewurztraminer jelly, and oyster-aquavit shooters.

I like to think I'm not alone in my Thanksgiving anxiety. So many dishes to serve, so much emotional baggage to ignore. In recent years, my anxiety centered on the inevitably uneven number of guests vs. chairs. This year brings a new wrinkle: My daughter is bringing home a friend - a special friend who just happens to be a top editor at a well-known magazine for gourmands. In its Thanksgiving issue, which features a sumptuous cover photograph of Crisp Apple-Scented Roast Turkey with Cider-Calvados Gravy, my Dinner Guest casually mentions her favorite appetizers for the holiday: "armagnac-marinated bacon-wrapped prunes, duck foie gras topped with gewurztraminer jelly, and oyster-aquavit shooters.

Prince Charles' planned visit next weekend, the first by a Prince of Wales since his great-great-grandfather ate scrapple here 147 years ago, has been in the works for ages. That's counting all the times Oliver St. Clair Franklin, the crown's go-to guy in Philadelphia, stopped at the palaces and urged the royal family, "Come on over. " Prince Andrew, Charles' brother, accepted in 2002. The Duke of Gloucester, Queen Elizabeth II's first cousin, followed two years later. Saturday and Sunday's scheduled tour by the heir to the throne and his wife - during which he is likely to paint with at-risk kids and sup with the upper crust - "is the icing on the cake," said Franklin, the honorary British consul, or chief diplomat, in Philadelphia.

Bonnie Foehr credits her success to cream cheese and orange marmalade. The culinary-arts student at Middle Bucks Institute of Technology in Jamison won a $4,000 scholarship to the Culinary Institute of America for her apple pie creation. "My secret is the ingredients in the piecrust," Foehr said. "I use cream cheese as a substitute for butter, and that gives a creamy texture. Once it comes out of the oven, I wipe orange marmalade on the outside, which makes it shiny and gives it flavor.

Brown it or burn it. Used to be those were the only things a toaster could do. Now, there are more. Many higher-end models can toast a bagel without scorching the outside. Some can warm pastries and baguettes, too. A handful have memory to recall various browning settings. You can even find a toaster that creates a sense of theater, with glass side panels that allow you to watch the bread move and brown as a motorized carriage carries it past the heating element (Applica's Arize by Black & Decker, $54.99, www.blackanddecker.

By now, the Arizona Diamondbacks probably feel as though they are a team of destiny. They won the division in which Barry Bonds hit 35 of his record-setting 73 home runs. They survived a five-game series against the St. Louis Cardinals, a team that went 36-14 in its final 50 regular-season games. They quickly disposed of the Atlanta Braves, a team that has played in nine of the last 10 National League Championship Series and five of the last 10 World Series. In Randy Johnson and Curt Schilling, they have the best one-two combination since Joe Frazier decked Muhammad Ali. Yes, these D'backs have every reason to believe they are a team of destiny.

The story might well be apocryphal, but at this point it no longer matters. It still tells a tale. The 76ers are working out at St. Joseph's University in 1995 and Jerry Stackhouse, their first-round draft choice, has had an animated session with a 16-year-old 11th-grader who has been invited to participate. Stackhouse, who spent two seasons at North Carolina, is impressed. "Where are you from?" he asks. "Lower Merion," the kid replies. "What's that, a Division III school?"