Philled me up

Hanging out in Philadelphia for a few days, and I haven't managed to have a bad meal here yet. Which is something of a record: either I'm getting very very good at choosing where to eat, or this place is a genuine foodie hotspot that I hadn't noticed before.

Case in point: Reading Terminal Market. I'm staying a block away, so it seemed silly not to try eating there at least once. Although I was only going out to get some more coffee from WaWas (24oz cups of decent filter coffee: one of the things that the US does well), it was close enough to lunchtime to drop in for something to eat at the oyster bar. Except. Except. I thought I'd have a walk around the market stalls first. And found Greek, Mexican, seafood, French bakeries, Chinese, Italian, Thai and sushi restaurants, all looking good, all deeply tempting. And then I was saved: the one thing I'd been hoping to try on this trip hove into view, and I ended up eating big plump blueberry pancakes with bacon at one of the Amish cafes. And I mean Amish, not some pastiche of 'Amish-style food' and low-paid girls in suitably ethnic frocks. I think they're used to that cultural pause/ intake of breath when someone rounds the corner and meets them for the first time (yes, reader, even I the seasoned liberal and traveller have cultural pauses sometimes) : the zip-free lass who served me in the Dutch Eating Place just grinned at me, got me some coffee and gave me a minute to get my bearings. Darned good pancakes, good enough that I may have to find a lower-fat route to the coffee next time.

Other places tried this trip: El Vez (great mexican presented in a modern european style; I think: it's a little difficult to tell past the haze of the blood orange and pomegranite margueritas), Marathon grill (damn fine quesadillas in all flavours, and more biiig cups of coffee), Capo Giro (Italian ice cream; highly rated icecreams online, but disappointing in reality apart from the stunningly good dark chocolate flavour), Mosulu (great setting on a schooner, but the chef, although good, seems unconfident, covering way too many of the dishes with over-sweet flavours) and the Caribou Cafe (I know where all the good French food has gone now. It's not in France anymore; it's hiding out in Pennsylvania. No problems getting a table-for-one inside on a busy day or turning up mid-afternoon for lunch; great food, and very moreish sourdough with it). I'm staying near Chinatown, but with this much choice, Chinese, even the sort of Chinese that sees queen conch as a staple food ingredient, just isn't tempting me at the moment. And more problematically I may also finally be full: tonight may just be a staying inside with a bag full of low-fat soy crisps (Glennys, cheddar flavour) sort of night. And maybe some more coffee.