An Epic Mile of Meet

February 16, 2011

Once upon a St. Valentine’s Day, one young lady (we’ll call her Kellie), accompanied by her trusty “WingWoman,” (also known as Stephanie) set out to find her Prince Semi-Charming along the fabled Mile of Meet.

She traversed to a far away land in the City of Brotherly Love – otherwise known as Manayunk – to walk along a Main Street lined with men from far and wide; young and old; black and white (and everything in between) and battle other hopeful single ladies in search of that long sought-after fairytale ending (or one-night stand, whichever worked best after fueling up on $4 Cupidtinis).

"mile" may have been stretching it

we hope he got one

Armed with her “You Lost Me at Hello” t-shirt, Kellie perused the various eligible bachelors and, in the process, was able to snag a photo-op with local celebrity Steve Ward as well as a monkey-on-a-bicycle balloon animal.

i thought steve ward would be more photogenic

Plenty of potential suitors were more than willing to strut their sad stuff on the stage (i.e. by demonstrating their “Situations”, lip-syncing to “I’m Too Sexy,” or reading erotic poetry) but none caught Kellie’s eye quite as much as one of the helpful match-making elves, also known as an “Ice Breaker.”

The Helpful Ice-Breaker Elf

Even though Kellie worked hard to win the affections of this young man, in the end, the best part of her night was spending time with her loyal “WingWoman” taking pictures in the photo booth and noshing on the free brick oven pizza.

Photo booth Fun!

After searching high and low, and slaying a few cougars in the process, Kellie discovered that Manayunk is not the enchanted forest and love don’t live there anymore. Despite this, though, Kellie left hopeful and with a renewed sense of adventure in her quest to find Prince Semi-Charming (probably in a place other than Manayunk – although if you are looking for Prince Frosted-Spiked-Tips-I’m-Somewhat-of-a-Douche-and-not-so-Charming, you will have found your perfect ending).

romantic ramblings of dating novices

July 17, 2010

by stephanie

As (relatively) young, single, working professional women in a city of roughly 1.5 million people (over 200,000 of which are aged 25-34), it seems as though it shouldn’t be quite so difficult to find relatively interesting men to pass some time with (and maybe share some meals with). We’ve both realized that over the 30+ years that we’ve spent stumbling through the urban dating jungle (oh yes, it IS a jungle out there!), we’ve learned our fair share and thought it only made sense for us to spread our warped dating perspectives and experiences to the masses. (We’re all about helping others, you know.)

Kellie: Dating has never been high up on my list of priorities. I’m completely okay with not being in a relationship, and, frankly, I’m unsure at this point that I even have the patience for sustained interaction with one person over a substantial length of time. Don’t get me wrong; I enjoy people and spending time with others, but I also really enjoy being by myself and doing things alone. Basically, I realize that I’m difficult to get along with at times, and I find others difficult as well.

Stephanie: And I’ve quickly learned to get over my parents’ frequent referral of my cat, Daphne, as their grand-daughter (in fact, I think it kind-of sweet now) or the awkward family gatherings in which my single-dom is an inevitable topic of conversation (nope, haven’t met anyone “special” since our last awkward family gathering two months ago).

Kellie: Recently, I went on a date (for real – the dress and heels kind), and when I mentioned it to my mom, her response was, “I thought you’d given up on humanity.” I think that perhaps it’s more accurate to say that I’m unconcerned with dating either way – whether I do it or not doesn’t really matter to me. If I found someone that could tolerate my independence, sarcasm, workaholism and addiction to text messaging, while having good taste in music, a dry wit, similar political and social justice views and a steady career, I’d consider “dating” him (or at least getting to know him). Otherwise, I have friends, family, and undateable men I already hang out with, so I’m all set.

Stephanie: Similarly, I laughed when I first read in “The Rules” the following: men are the adversary, especially on the first date (caveat: I did not purchase this book of my own accord… I knew Kellie and I would be doing a dating post so I was trying to do some research. As a self-respecting, intelligent, single gal, I had to put that out there). However, as time goes on, I think there is some truth to approaching dating from this position. At it’s overly-simplistic core, this gem is telling you that you have to be prepared, can’t let your guard down, and make sure that you are armed with the appropriate amount of artillery to deflect any BS that is bound to head your way from the opposite sex from time-to-time. Above all else, you can’t let yourself get hurt and, while vulnerability can be the hallmark of a great Audrey Hepburn movie, it can also be the hallmark of your dating downfall.

Kellie: A few weeks ago, Stephanie sent me this article from New York Magazine about “the fadeaway,” which is when a person just sort of disappears from your romantic life, with no explanation and no further contact. Now, while the merits (or lack of merit) of this approach can be debated, I have my own personal opinion (surprise!), which may or may not be biased based on my own past actions: the fadeaway is perfectly acceptable if you’ve been out with someone less than three times. If that’s all the time you’ve spent together, you don’t owe them anything, nor do they owe you. Sorry, folks. I know we all generally claim that we want closure or an explanation, but, sometimes, it’s just not necessary.

(Also, to be clear, when I say “been out,” I mean official, intentional, I-made-a-conscious-decision-to-spend-time-with-you dates. Whether you actually decide to call them dates is your own choice. None of that we-ran-into-each-other-at-bar/party/restaurant/coffee shop-and-spent-some-time-talking business.)

Stephanie: And speaking of the fadeaway….as someone who does not necessarily buy into spiritual, other-wordly pursuits, I have been thinking more and more that my dating karma has turned ugly and the dating gods have forsaken me because of my past indiscretions. I’ve wondered, did the fadeaway just get pulled on me because of the fadeaway I pulled in 2003? And maybe kissing my ex’s bff at sorority formal was a baaad idea (I blame the massive amounts of white zin for that one. Yeah, so what, I drank white zin in college. I was trying to be “classy”). Is it possible that my proverbial dating hens have come home to roost? I mean, who knows, but I’ve taken to burning sage just in case….

This is not to say that all is bad or that I’m going to give up and start playing for the other team (I still haven’t completely convinced myself that this isn’t a partial motivation for some men to be complete douche lords: the hope that their idiocy will force a woman into the arms of another woman – hot). However, it is to say that we have to be prepared for what we will be faced with when we are out there traversing what can sometimes be a very barren landscape and to do unto others as you would have others do unto you (as much as possible).

So what can be learned from Kellie’s and my somewhat unintentionally constructed dating frameworks? We’re not sure. But it sure has been cathartic for us to write about it and, while Kellie and I certainly don’t have the answers to it all, we are hoping that this blog can be a forum for us to not only share what turns us on when it comes to good food but also what turns us on when it comes to good men (and vice-versa, of course).

city tap house: beer on the patio

June 19, 2010

by jenny

I first heard of the City Tap House through a Facebook ad, oddly enough. It was one of those lists of things to do in Philly, which I usually ignore. With the extra free time and sunlight that summer brings in the evenings, however, I decided to click on one of these lists. Although some of them were predictable enough (go to the Barnes, check out the Mutter Museum, etc) there were at least a couple bars that sounded intriguing. One bar/restaurant in particular was on my side of the Schuylkill (the west, of course!) and was supposed to have the most fire-pits of any restaurant in Philly. I’ve never been to any restaurant with fire-pits in Philly! So clearly, I had to see it to believe it.

The City Tap House is located on Walnut between 39th and 40th in the Radian, that brand new residential + shopping + eating complex that Penn built, which I personally feel looks like an homage to 80s tape decks. The door was a little hard to find, sandwiched next to Capogiro, and most of the parking around there costs money, although all the meters have been replaced with kiosks. The El would be the easiest option, SEPTA-wise, since the 40th street stop is only a few blocks away. Once you enter, you immediately take an elevator to the restaurant, which is two or three floors up (it was hard to tell). The look is very sleek and modern, and they have taken full advantage of being located on the second floor–the entire wall facing south is windows, and about half the place is outdoor seating. There were the fire-pits, as advertised, with cushy bench seating around them–I saw people ordering food, but many people were choosing to just lounge around them and drink. There was even a field of wildflowers next to the patio tables. I suppose this was to help with drainage and make the building more green; I liked it–it made it feel like we weren’t in the middle of the city. The view was great, too, looking out at Penn’s campus and beyond that, the city skyline.

Overall the prices seemed moderate–my Scottish Salmon BLT was $10, and most of the other “craftwiches,” salads, and appetizers were around the $10-12 range. They also have daily specials and mussels that you can get as entrees. The entrees were a little more, maybe around $15-20. The beer ranged from $4-7; there’s a wine list, but with 60 beers on tap (the most in the city) I didn’t pay it any attention.

So about that salmon BLT…first, it was the size of my head, and the size was mostly salmon. There was nothing skimpy about it. It was also cooked to order (I got rare, and it was amazing). I had to eat it with a knife and fork because I couldn’t figure out how to pick it up, and it was fantastic. I only managed half. My dining partner got the mussels in a saffron sauce, and she said they were delicious. We also got the vegetable bruschetta–you only get 4 little squares, but it was very good; however, dinner was so good that I think next time I wouldn’t bother with an appetizer. I also got fries with my BLT; they were shoestring style, crisp and tasty.

Finally: THE BEER. One great thing that the Tap House does is give you a card to take notes on your beer; you put your name at the bottom and they save the card for you so that when you come back, you can see what beers you tried already, and what you thought of them. For a place that sells itself on the amount of beer it has, this is a fabulous idea. Some people are just able to remember the names of every beer they drink; while I like beer, I am not that good. They also sorted their draft list by type of beer and gave helpful descriptions about the beer, which I also appreciate. Their beer list changes daily, so you are not guaranteed that the beer you have one day will be there the next, but included in the list they tell you what kegs are next to be tapped in case you want to come back for one. The draft list is also on the website; I’m guessing it is updated fairly regularly because when I went to look up what beer I had, it wasn’t listed there anymore (all I know is, I had a brown ale and then a Japanese coffee stout, and they were both great).

Dress code was fairly casual; I wore jeans and so did most of the servers, although there were several tables around us with dressed up folks. The beauty about a restaurant near a university is that there were also tables of people all in scrubs, or workout clothes, or business suits. They also do live acoustic music fairly regularly, although that appears to mostly happen indoors, and with this place, outdoors is where you want to be.

My summary: good food, good beer, great atmosphere–perfect for escaping the city on a summer evening, when you can’t actually get out of town. I will definitely be going back to sit by the fire pit and fill out more note cards about their beer!

The Hipster Hunters

March 28, 2010

by stephanie

Inspired by our recent purchase of matching Three Wolves Howling at the Moon t-shirts, Kellie and I embarked on an anthropological exploration of sorts – to study hipsters in their natural habitat – and, hopefully, re-connect with our younger, hipper counterparts via the shared cultural experience of good food and drink.

Modeling my Three Wolves Howling at the Moon T-Shirt

Of course, I allowed Kellie to be the lead investigator and cultural broker for this experiment, given her familiarity with the study site (South Philly) and her clear-cut uber-coolness, as evidenced by her hot-orange, vintage hunting jacket and low-top Chuck Taylors.

: Our Lead Investigator

For those of you who don’t know, parts of South Philly have been undergoing a “hipster” renaissance of sorts. Gone are the old-world days of green awnings, fake flowers, and Virgin Mary statues (well, that’s not completely true, as Kellie and I discovered during our brief walk through the neighborhood).

Neoclassical Architecture in the Heart of South Philly

Nowadays, you are more likely to experience its uncomfortable juxtaposition with skinny jeans, coffee shops, and post-modernist thought than the Mafioso that made South Philly notorious. East Passyunk Ave. is the ultimate example of this renaissance and was the site for at least half of our jaunt into the somewhat unknown.

Kellie and I started out at 1601 at 10^th and Tasker – a cozy local pub offering updated versions of various comfort food classics. I, of course, choose a PBR pounder as my drink of choice (I was trying to fit in with the locals, after all)

Pabst Blue Ribbon: Hipster Water

and went with the fish tacos, which were pretty disappointing and bland. (note from Kellie – I’ve had the fish tacos twice before, and they’re usually quite tasty.) Kellie tried to enjoy her Bacon, Lettuce, Avocado and Fried Tomato (BLAT) sandwich sans mayo; however, it came out with mayo and had to be sent back. The delicious Parmesan pomme frittes and free stout for the mayo mix-up more than made up for these small missteps, though. While Kellie and I dined, drank, and discussed socialism (again, we didn’t want to stick out too conspicuously), we studied the sociological mashing of old and new: the weathered old man donning Nike and playing Megatouch; two hipsters waxing philosophical over “the nostalgia of analog recordings” (a direct quote); and, Nick Drake playing faintly in the background while March Madness dominated the flat screens over the bar. As our own conversation devolved into more tawdry subjects (not to be shared here), so did the conversations of the natives. (Did I really hear je ne sais quoi and the f-bomb in the same sentence?) Seeing all there was to see, we decided to take our study to the next level and travel down the street to the what many would deem hipster Mecca right here in Philadelphia – Pub on Passyunk East aka “Pope.” I learned quickly, though, never, ever to actually call it by its real name as that is as sure a social death as leprosy.

I was intimidated and nervous as we entered into the lair – would I be fingered as an imposter? A sell-out working for “the man” who is as removed from my “activist” days as Sarah Palin is from reality? With Kellie by my side sipping on her “WTF” porter (even the beer names had the air of cool superiority) and a “G&T” in hand (Gin and Tonic, folks…a required hipster drink), we settled into a dark corner and tried to blend into our surroundings. Thankfully, those surroundings included a jukebox, which I was sure would be my redemption (one thing I know is good music) but even I was sad to learn that my musical lexicon was not nearly as eclectic as the jukebox offerings. The best we could collectively muster was Metallica’s “Fade to Black”, some Al Green, Gang of Four, the Beach Boys and The Pixies, among others. (note from Kellie – the jukebox was a bit too sparse and indie, a dangerous combination.)

With our social experiment nearing it’s end and both of us still starving, Kellie and I decided to venture to the bright lights of cheesesteak row at 9^th and Passyunk. Being Pat’s girls through and through (Geno’s is so 2000 and late), we chowed down on a “Wiz Wit,” Lady and the Tramp style, while enjoying the early-90’s musical stylings coming from the nearby South Philly Bar and Grill. (Rhythm is totally a dancer!)

A Wiz Wit: Heaven and a Heart-attack on a Roll

Ultimately, my quest to understand this often misunderstood species and enjoy some good food along the way re-awakened that little voice deep, down inside that whispers ”Damn, the Man!” and yearns for the day that little yuppy boys and girls can coexist peacefully with their hipster brethren. Can I get an amen?!

forging new territory; our technological manifest destiny in the name of food

March 9, 2010

by kellie

As Stephanie and I stumble through this world of blogging and posting, we can’t help but pay attention to the role that social networking plays these days. As someone who has been slow to adapt to the ever-changing landscape of social media, it pains me to even bring it up, but, alas, here I am. I’ve always been a bit behind; I created a friendster account when myspace had already carved out their place, a myspace account after facebook had taken over, and a facebook account was created for me (because I was so vehemently opposed) by one of my employees so that I could join the 21st century.

Well, along came twitter, and needless to say, I’m perplexed. Is it just me, or does anyone else think it’s exceptionally self-absorbed to believe that other people actually care what you’re doing at any given moment? I mean, I like myself a pretty healthy amount, but even I’m not that interested in me. Therefore, I can’t seem to wrap my head around the basic idea of twitter and the fact that people “follow” each other.

That being said, I can also see the parallels between utilizing social media and manifest destiny. Now, manifest destiny is not necessarily something I support, but I think the concept can be updated and thought about in a blogging sense. Stephanie and I believe that we have been granted a mission to spread good food to the masses and ignoring this mission would be a disservice to humanity. Instead of extending our “boundaries of freedom” via carriage and horseback, we must now extend them via the internet.

In his comments on manifest destiny, John O’Sullivan said, “What friend of human liberty, civilization, and refinement, can cast his view over the past history of the monarchies and aristocracies of antiquity, and not deplore that they ever existed? What philanthropist can contemplate the oppressions, the cruelties, and injustice inflicted by them on the masses of mankind, and not turn with moral horror from the retrospect?”

The same is true of food and drink: What friend of the delicious can lend thought to the travesties brought about by the overly salted, the lite-beered and the chain restauranting and not be moved to show the world a better way? We are inspired to act, and it is with a heavy heart and humanity in mind that I say, “follow us on twitter!” (@ForTasteSake)

yipsters; an urban epidemic

February 20, 2010

by kellie

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.