Posted by Adam Kuban, March 3, 2009 at 2:55 PM
I don't know if there's much to say about the roast pork Italian sandwich at Tony Luke's other than it's pretty near perfect.
Tony Luke's is conveniently located near the junction of I-95 and I-76 in the shadow of the Walt Whitman Bridge—a quick lunchtime detour on my trip from the Big Apple to central Pennsylvania this past weekend. I probably don't have to tell you that I spent the first two hours of that trip in anticipation of finally trying one of these much-hyped sandwiches.
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Posted by Zach Brooks, May 28, 2008 at 2:00 PM
You may be aware of the fact that Jamaica was at one time a British colony, and as a result much of the country grew up enjoying English style afternoon tea. I didn't, and perhaps that bit of knowledge would have made finding a place like the Pineapple Blossom Tea Room in Miami, Florida much less of a surprise to me than it was. A tiny little restaurant situated in a fairly unlikely part of of Miami, the Pineapple Tea Room is run by Jamaican chef Frances Brown and serves up a menu of elaborate tea services (complete with freshly baked pastries) side-by-side with a full offering of salads and wraps, combining the flavors of multiple countries under the Jamaican theme of "out of many, one people."
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Posted by Michael Nagrant, May 21, 2008 at 1:30 PM
I wonder if Miamians get bored with the Cuban sandwich or Philadelphians forego the Philly cheesesteak for long periods of time. I know, with so many new restaurants opening each day and so many tasty leads to follow, sometimes I take the local food icons here in Chicago for granted. I even forsake them occasionally. But, with so many fanny pack clad tourists descending on our city in search of salad dogs, deep dish pizza, and the Italian beef, I don’t really think they need me.
Fast forward to last Thursday when I just happened to be driving through Elmwood Park, a suburb adjacent to the Northwest side of Chicago city proper, and I spotted one of my favorite Italian beef stands: Johnnie’s. You know the soup nazi? Well, Johnnie’s proprietors are the beef Nazis. They make you wait in a single file line and if you’re the next person in line in front of the entrance door and you thing about holding it open to suck up some warm beefy air on a cold or rainy day, don’t do it. If you let so much as a minor draft sneak in to the store, you’ll get glares from the employees and customers alike. You also better have your order together when you hit the cash register and it better not include cheese on your beef (which is pretty much an equivalent crime in these parts to putting ketchup on your hot dog), unless, of course, you want to get laughed at.
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Posted by Gina DePalma, May 19, 2008 at 8:30 AM
Last week, I took a little lunchtime trip to Frascati, one of a handful of little towns in the Castelli Romani, a culturally rich area just southeast of Rome shadowed by the Alban Hills and dotted with volcanic lakes. Thanks to a direct commuter train, I was there in only 30 minutes, and at the very appealing price of €1.90 (US$2.96) each way.
Frascati is home to a number of grand villas built by some of Rome's most powerful and wealthy families as retreats from the city's sweltering streets. Most of Frascati's day tourists make a beeline straight from the train station to visit the elaborate gardens of Villa Aldobrandini (right), the largest of the estates. I headed in the opposite direction, climbing a steep stone staircase to get to the compact center of town.
After wandering up and down the narrow, cobbled streets, I reached the Piazza del Mercato. As the name implies, it is ringed with the kind of stores that meet the daily needs of residents: an alimentari, a few bakeries, the butcher shop, and a place for household odds and ends. But at the far end of the circular piazza, I paused, gasped, and beheld "Leda, La Regina della Porchetta."
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Posted by Zach Brooks, May 14, 2008 at 2:00 PM
Add beets, and you have got an Aussie Burger.
Is there anything greater than the breakfast burger? I love a decent burger, and if you top it with an over easy egg, something magical happens. And that magic is called egg yolk, covering your burger in gooey goodness. Last week I sampled the breakfast burger from Goodburger (a slightly upscale, NYC burger chain) along with some co-workers, one of whom remarked, "Add some beets to this, and you've got an Aussie Burger." Come again? Beets? Now that sounds like something I could get into.
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