ForTasteSake

After the trauma of my annual visit to the women’s doc, where I was reminded, in a one hour time span, of my “un-marriedness” (Receptionist: Is this under your husband’s insurance or yours?), my “singleness” (Gyno:  Is there no one special in your life right now?), and my “lack of children-ness” (Gyno: That uterus of yours is just begging to be used!), I was more than happy to spend a Friday night being reminded of my “fabulousness” with friends and drink at APO (formerly Apothecary). With no hint of irony, I happily chose the Blushing Bride (Henrick’s gin, rose syrup, grapefruit juice, lemon juice, and barrel aged bitters) as my first drink of the night and began to soak in the atmosphere:  vest-clad “barkeeps” who are lively, extol the merits of the movie “Junior“, exclaim at your good drink picks, and place bets on whether you can drink through the entire menu (I’m still not sure if Kellie was successful in that endeavor); the stark white brick wall screaming for patrons to do their handy-work (which, of course, we did…see Exhibit A); and, the great soul classics playing in the background (who doesn’t love a little Marvin Gaye, Bill Withers and Barry White?)

Exhibit A: We were one of the first tags on APO's wall

APO’s specialties are its creative, hand-made drinks, which are both time-consuming to construct and wallet-busters but worth the wait and the money, nonetheless.  Kellie, at the great recommendation of our barkeep (who, by the way, were named 2008’s Best Bartenders by Citysearch and it was easy to see why), started off with the Drury Flip – a play on classic egg nog, combining stout, rum, orange marmalade, nutmeg and egg (um, delicious!) – and it went on (and on, and on) from there.  By the end of the night (or around 10 – we started drinking early), we had plowed through most of the noteworthy drinks on the menu: the Booty Collins (green tea infused gin, passion fruit, agave nectar, lemon juice, cayenne, yohimbe, valerian root, house made seltzer and brandied cherries);

The Booty Collins

the Moroccan Fashion (bourbon, Fernet, mint tea, chocolate, and barrel aged bitters);

The Moroccan Fashion

and, the Roaring Inverno (cachaca, amaretto, Cynar, kumquats, lime, brown sugar, cinnamon).

Our great barkeep putting the finishing touches on the Roaring Inverno...not to be confused with the Roaring Inferno...my bad!

The well-stocked bar was even able to support one of my favorite drinks, a Pimm’s Cup, which helped elucidate the fact that Kellie actually is the other half of my brain when we both exclaimed in unison, “The Pimm’s Cup is to Wimbledon like the Mint Julep is to the Kentucky Derby!!” My favorite drink of the night was the Immunity Idol (gin, elderflower liqueur, champagne, pineapple and orange juices, orange bitters, echinacea, hawthorn root and liniment) with its “inebriated berries,” giving us a great Halloween costume idea for next year (getting drunk in a strawberry costume).  Kellie ended the night with the Desert Rose (anejo tequila, Aperol, Italian red vermouth, rose-water, bitters) – a painfully strong drink, even after the dulling that 6 other drinks brings to the palate.  In all, we consumed 13 different drinks (with no hang over to speak of in the morning), spent over $200,

Proof of the damage

and, had it not been for the complimentary soft pretzel crosses, would probably have been carried out of the place.  Unfortunately, food is not on the menu (supposedly it’s coming soon) so caution to all considering a trip to APO:  you will have to eat something beforehand unless you plan on taking the lush-honors, which on this night, Kellie and I were more than happy to do.

After it had been determined that we blew our entire bi-weekly food budget on drinks (all in the name of research, people!), we ventured down the block to what we thought, at the time, was heaven (or its closest approximate):  the open-late, $9.99 Indian buffet, New Samosa.   Now, we quickly determined that this was by no means the best Indian food either of us had ever had but the warm naan, greasy chana masala, and tender tandoori chicken was enough to get us through our late-night, drunken munchies and send us on our merry ways.

The Aftermath

Overall, our night out to APO was just the right cure for my post-gyno distress and it certainly merits another visit on another pay day — at the very least so Kellie and I can win that bet!

A few days ago, I met a former colleague for drinks at El Vez, one of about a thousand (okay, that might be a slight exaggeration) Stephen Starr restaurants in Philly.  We sat at the bar – topped with a tricked out gold bike that screams “I’m trying so desperately to be cool” – drinking sangria and snacking on chips, quacamole and free quesadillas, a happy hour bonus.

As the minutes passed, the restaurant became more and more crowded, filling with 1.) young businessmen and women living beyond their means and 2.) yipsters.  If you’re not familiar with yipsters, they are a breed of urbanite that are a hybrid of yuppies and hipsters and, to put it simply, are the kind of people who will spend $45 on a brand new t-shirt that looks like it was bought at a thrift shop for under a dollar.

The evolution of yipsters is quite simple.  In most cases, they are former emo kids who joined the working world.  Their newfound salaries have increased their materialism and desire to impress others with “things,” yet they still cling to their days of scowling, pondering and refusing to dance at basement shows in college.  They believe that their thoughts and opinions are original and creative, yet they are, for the most part, shared across the species, as a sort of inherent groupthink.  They are generally non-threatening, but their presence can signify a change in the climate of the city (often neighborhood gentrification).  Yipsters are the societal equivalent of finding a cockroach in your apartment; by the time you see one, you have a full-fledged infestation on your hands.

So, as you make the rounds from bar to bar and eatery to eatery, stay alert – you don’t want to get caught in a dark alley with a yipster, because you might not make it out with your taste in good music and individual opinions intact.

Basking in a post-Valentine’s Day glow, I began to reminisce on the good, the bad, and the ugly of past relationships and the food that defined them (talk about emotional eating). In my 30 years, I’ve had some pretty great men come through my life and have had the misfortune of crossing paths with a few that left me shaking my head and wondering how I could have ever wasted my time. Interestingly, many parallels can be drawn between my “love life” and my “food life”. I’ve spent many great nights in the throws of food ecstasy; have had a handful of meaningful, fulfilling relationships with a couple great restaurants; and, unfortunately, have walked away (more times than I like to admit) feeling completely and utterly unsatisfied….but I don’t like to dwell on the bad or the ugly. I want to instead pay homage to some of my favorite food loves (in no particular order): those fooderies, foods, and drinks (or some combination of the three) that have defined my food life, that I have loved and love still, and feel misty nostalgia over whenever I think back on the time I spent with them.

1. Cookums Café

Cookums! We had a brief but fiery affair and oh, how I miss you. Formerly at an unassuming location at 15th and Arch, Cookums may have had some of the best crab cakes, mac and cheese, yams, and greens I’ve ever had. Now, granted, my knowledge of soul food may be limited but I know a good thing when it hits me. Having grown up eating the delectable southern dishes conjured up by my Raleigh-born grandfather (Poppy), Cookums filled me with the same warm satisfaction that his meals did as a child. A frequent lunchtime haunt for many municipal employees housed in the nearby Municipal Services Building (including me), you could guarantee a line out the door any payday Friday. But it was always worth the wait – the smothered pork chops alone made me want to slap somebody! So, I was very sad to learn of its closing and that my indulgent lunchtime rendezvous were no more. I’ve heard rumors that the cooks have moved on to other locations but I’ve yet to find them again. Sniffle sniffle.

2. The Flaming Volcano

My pre-requisites for a great drink: 1.) comes in a large ornate bowl; 2.) has an umbrella; 3.) is on fire; and, 4.) has two straws. Well, not necessarily all of these are required but to find them in one drink is just amazing. Served at one of my favorite spots, Vietnam Restaurant, the Flaming Volcano is an excellent date drink so long as you can handle your alcohol. WARNING: there is probably enough liquor in there to knock out a gorilla but it is a wonderfully fun drink, a great conversation-starter, and makes me feel warm and happy (for obvious reasons) every time I have it. Pair it with some yummy Pho and you have the start of a great night.

Flame on!

3. Lazaros Pizza

Lazaros Pizza has everything going on: Sweet savory sauce, a perfect cheese to sauce ratio, thin crispy crust, and HUGE-ass portions. Located in the Grad Hospital neighborhood, Lazaros is by far the best take out pizza I’ve had in the City. New Yawk transplants may have found their pizza home at Lazaros and it has yet to disappoint me as a Philadelphian (except when I made the mistake of ordering toppings –the pizza is far too flimsy to hold the weight of more than one topping). Lazaros has been a constant through many relationships and I’m fairly convinced that there is some type of addictive additive in their sauce because I can almost never get enough of their pizza. This is probably why they offer an “extra-large” option…why this can’t be an option in other situations, I don’t know. (Sigh.) I once ordered pizza from this place three different times over a 2 day period and ate it all with the help of a friend. Lazaros will always hold a cherished place close to my heart even after inducing more than one food coma.

My friend happily about to destroy an XL cheese pizza from Lazaros

4. El Azteca

While not the best Mexican in the city, El Azteca defined a particular point in my life and for that reason will always be a special place to me. I’ve celebrated birthdays, friends, first dates, and anniversaries at El Azteca, which speaks to its charm and fun atmosphere (where else can you get flashing disco lights, fried ice cream AND happy birthday all at once?) El Azteca is a BYOT (although that has changed as of late) and offers solid, home-cooked Mexican at an affordable price. And if the food and drink weren’t enough to bring you closer to your food companions while there, the two person women’s bathroom definitely will (if you don’t know what I’m talking about, you must check it out next time you are there).

My birthday at El Azteca (mmmm....fried ice cream...)

5. The Banana Bread Pudding at August

I’m a sucker for a quaint, romantic, BYO (and thank God I live in Philly, where you are all but guaranteed to find at least one in your neighborhood) but when that BYO also offers an amazing dessert that can be shared with another…well, that’s just the cherry on top. The Banana Bread Pudding at August – an understated, Italian BYO in South Philly – is truly heaven on earth. The Italian bread is blended with banana and chocolate, warmed to perfection, and paired with yummy vanilla ice cream. Bread pudding is an art and I make a point of trying it at any restaurant that offers it. The bread pudding at August is a true masterpiece especially when coupled with great company and conversation.

Last night, in an effort to stick it to snowmageddon/snowpocalypse/snowgasm/snowtorious B.I.G/snowmergency/other-ridiculous-play-on-the-word-snow, Stephanie and I slipped and slid down the icy sidewalks of Center City West to check out Noble: An American Cookery, tucked on a quiet part of Sansom Street near the Roxy Theater. Upon entering, the atmosphere was simple and a bit plain, with a seeming emphasis on minimalism and prairie living that any self-respecting, wine-bar-frequenting hipster would love (including the vintage-style plaid shirts worn by the servers). On this blizzard recovering Valentine’s weekend, the tables were mostly empty, and both floors were quiet for a Friday evening. We sat on the second floor, where the walls were white (or maybe mayonnaise) and bare save for several large, weathered wood mirrors. The street-facing front “wall” was actually floor to ceiling windows, which let in some nice light reflecting off the river of snow and ice that some would call a road below.

The drink menu was fairly extensive, with over 20 wines and the same number of beers, all of which were crafted in North America. For those of you who like your drinks on the harder side, they also have a bar with liquor, but we stuck to wine – pinot noir – and beer – coffee porter – because, well, we’re simple ladies.

The food menu was smaller than the drink menu (not necessarily a bad thing, depending on the type of week it was at work), and, though the menu changes seasonally, many of the elements stay the same, just with different complements and flavors. I began with the sweet potato-mango soup, which had a subtle sweetness and was deliciously rich and creamy. Stephanie had the scallops, which were fairly tasty, but the cold pink Maine shrimp that dressed their tops were almost gag worthy.

The main course was made up of hanger steak (with bacon, watercress and sweet potato puree) for Stephanie, and yellowfin tuna (with polenta and beet puree) for me. Both were tasty, but the sides we ordered stole the show. At the waiter’s recommendation, I ordered the wild mushrooms with garlic, even though I’m not a big mushroom fan. They were somewhat crunchy (thankfully, since chewy mushrooms induce in me an immediate desire to spit them out) and the garlic was refreshing, not overpowering. Stephanie had the roasted brussel sprouts, and the waiter wasn’t lying when he said they were “out of this world.” Absolutely delicious.

While we waited for dessert, I finally looked up toward the ceiling, noticing the wood beams, exposed ductwork and three huge skylights, which were my favorite part of the decor. I’m glad that my eyes happened to wander upward, since there was nothing in the room drawing attention to the interesting features in the ceiling. It was also at this point that Stephanie and I noticed the music, and we were thankful to have not noticed it earlier. I can’t even remember what it sounded like (my subconscious mind may be doing me a favor), but I remember that I preferred not to hear it.

Our desserts came (mine was accompanied by La Colombe coffee), mexican hot chocolate with a chocolate dipped cookie for Stephanie and mexican coffee brulee for me. I was surprised to see the brulee topped with mango sorbet, but the flavors actually served each other well, with the sweet bitterness of the coffee smoothing out the tanginess of the mango. The hot chocolate was dark, thick and enjoyable, and was best eaten by being slurped off a spoon.

Overall, Noble, while not being overtly impressive, was worth the trip (though maybe not the hour wait in the slush for a bus that never came to take me home) and is a place I would return to. The service was absolutely excellent, and wasn’t hurt by the fact that our waiter was on the cute side. If you end up trying out Noble, be forewarned; the way the portions and menu are set up, you’ll want to order a first course or a side, so the price can add up fairly quickly. And, it may just make you gassy, so try to avoid it on a first date.