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Notes from the Weekend: April 10
Notes from the Weekend is a feature that sees the members of Team Meal Ticket compiling all the food/drink highlights uncovered during prime eatin' time, Friday to Sunday.
Notes from the Weekend: April 10
Notes from the Weekend is a feature that sees the members of Team Meal Ticket compiling all the food/drink highlights uncovered during prime eatin' time, Friday to Sunday. Consider this a place for good deals, great dishes, wicked cocktails, recipe triumphs (and tragedies), bizarro conversations and more. We're eager to share our notes, but especially excited to read yours.We encourage you to leave notes from YOUR weekend in the comments. Have at it! (View past NFTW installments at citypaper.net/notes.)
Adam Erace: AE
Drew Lazor: DL
Katie Linton: KL
Alexandra Weiss: AW
Friday: On our way to York, I had an intense craving for fried chicken and was disappointed to find out that Cracker Barrel only has it on Sundays. I settled for grilled catfish (tasteless, farm-raised stuff) and H went for chicken tenders. His plate was beautiful compared to my thing. Turnip greens and pinto beans were good, though. —KL
On Friday, I found myself at Brio (901 Haddonfield Road), a chain d'Italino in Cherry Hill. (Don't ask.) Guess what, it wasn't bad. At all. Sure the portions were unruly, and the recipes were larded like no tomorrow, but I the basily marinara beneath the killer romano-crusted ravioli was vibrant, the bar service was friendly and the bread ruled. Two very surprised tips of the toque. —AE
I spent Thursday to Sunday in the Deep South. My little sister EL lives in Jackson, Mississippi, home to David Banner and some excellent restaurants, many of which were suggested and subsequently board-recorded in EL's ninth-grade Spanish class. (One reco we unfortunately missed: Tio Buck's, aka Uncle Buck's, which is located inside Bass Pro Shops.) Thursday's meal at Parlor Market kicked ass (Philly would love this spot), but (Good) Friday's, at Walker's Drive-In, was just alright for me — already-buttery shrimp and cheese grits don't need to be drowned in super-buttery sauce. Made up for that dairy bomb the best/only way I know how — with a birthday cake cone at Sal and Mookie's, a nearby pizzeria/ice cream parlor. Happy birthday to you/RIP whatever part of my circuitry is responsible for processing lactose. —DL
I had off from work Friday and road-tripped to take a tour of the new Jose Garces restaurants in Revel (500 Boardwalk) in Atlantic City. Jose and Co. have Amada, Village Whiskey and Distrito Cantina/Guapos Tacos in the mega-casino/hotel. Amada has a flamenco stage and a planxa bar for takeout; Village Whiskey is about times the size of the one here. (You could drive to AC and get a table at their VW in the time it takes to wait for one in Philly!) Distrito, meanwhile, has a faux back yard with a Guapos setup, though I don't think the truck actually drives. Hopefully no drunk AC person tries. —AW
By Saturday, it was time to drive three hours south from Mississippi to one of my favoritest places in the planet, New Orleans. Said bye to Jackson over fried chicken at Julep, a cutie brunch spot frequented by EL and her friends. They're famous for this pollo, breaded just right with a rosemary- and honey-heavy personality that makes the crushing of it an off-sweet, nearly cereal-like experience. I loved it. —DL
Timed my day poorly and raced to chop 30 apples to make charoset for 30 people for a Passover seder on Friday night. Arrived late and immediately got made fun of for bringing that much charoset. Blew through the seder because, let's be real, everyone really just wants to eat. Had less than the allotted amount of wine, matzo ball soup, brisket, chicken, salmon, zucchini, Brussels sprouts, roasted potatoes, green beans, a macaron, chocolate-covered marshmallow, fruit and "green stuff" (lime jello with Klondike bars mixed in). What did we do when we got back to the city? Went to the El Bar (1356 N. Front St.), of course. —AW
Saturday: Drove down to Virginia to help celebrate H's grandma's 91st birthday. She lives in a posh nursing home/resort and I spent some time roaming the grounds after eating her giant tasty birthday cake. Too bad the lunch wasn't as good as the dessert: the salad bar included stewed prunes. —KL
Saw The Hunger Games on Saturday. Thought No. 1: I would really like to travel on that booze-and-krumpet-dedecked Capitol train. Thought No. 2: Were I competing in the Hunger Games, I would probably die within one hour by eating those pretty poisonous blueberries. The flick was a little ludicrous/corny at times (flaming chariot ride, Woody Harrelson), but good acting and cool special effects. Still, I can't lie and say my favorite part of the moviegoing experience wash't the throwback Blue Icee I sucked down. —AE
Had a farewell-to-JN brunch at Kraftwork (541 E. Girard Ave.) Saturday since he had to drive back up to New York for his own seder. The six of us were sat at one of their picnic-style tables, but there was already two people at ours. I think the two other people hated us. I ordered a Bloody Mary and the eggs Benedict, duh. The Marys here are pretty spicy, so beware. —AW
NOLA is the best. On Saturday I started by taking my parents and sis to the venerated Mother's, which, despite its obvious tourist trappings, had always done right by me in the past. Not this time — they weren't even busy but somehow completely lost track of our (small) dinner, so we were sitting with iced tea forever before our server informed us that they didn't even have what my ma ordered. Mother's did my mother wrong! That ain't right. The food was good once it came, though, especially the bay-leafy Shrimp Creole. Struck out on my own and ate at two of Donald Link's spots later — Herbsaint for bourbon/rye drinks and a sick cracklin'-topped chicken rillette, and Cochon (fave of the pair) for smoked pork ribs topped with pickled watermelon and nice convo with friendly fellow drunks bar patrons. Met my old college roomie (also) Drew at Harrah's after this for free beer/income loss, then closed out at Chuck's Sports Bar, where the High Life was as cold as the erotic photo hunt was challenging. What? It can get really difficult once you hit a certain amount of beverages. —DL
Sunday: I overslept and missed the annual Easter sunrise service that my church holds at Lemon Hill Mansion. Bummer. I still managed to make it to the Easter potluck brunch afterward, though. Huevos rancheros, French toast and homemade strawberry jam were my three favorite offerings. I also might never eat another Starburst jelly bean. —KL
Sunday I hung out with some good friends who reside in NOLA's Irish Channel 'hood. Got beers all up and down Magazine Street, including at Bulldog (peep that tap-handle fountain action!), and ate two times because that's what you do here — once at Gott Gourmet (biscuits and gravy) and twice at Café Abyssinia, which I'm told is NOLA's only Ethiopian restaurant. Definitely stacked up to our Philly injera joints. One funny moment: Our smiley server dropped a plate of lamb in front of me, which I refrained from touching because I was waiting for friends to get their dinners. Few minutes later, dude returns, goes ""You didn't touch that, right?" and before I can answer scoops it up and gives it to another table. I definitely didn't touch it so we were good. Do you dude! —DL
Met up with some pals at Standard Tap (901 N. Second St.) for Sunday brunch. I had another Bloody Mary, though this was less spicy, and the Standard Eggs: two eggs, potato hash, bacon and a biscuit. Post-brunch, hung out at one of my pal's apartments for a little while and then enjoyed the weather while I walked home. —AW
On Sunday, C and I hosted Easter brunch for our fams. I made a wicked baked French toast (bread pudding-style) by cubing up two loaves of Ric's cinnamon swirl loaf, arranging in a buttered pan, soaking in vanilla custard overnight and baking at 375 Sunday morning. Popped some fizzy, honey-sweet Moscato d'Asti, tossed a fruit salad in blueberry-lime dressing and warmed up a delicate crab quiche from my mom and a cheesy, meaty breakfast casserole from C's. After brunch, we assembled the hospitality baskets for the hotel guests staying over in the city for our wedding next week. Actually, they assembled the hospitality baskets. I just snuck Tootsie Rolls out of them. —AE
Always wondered if a crappy Mother's po boy inspired Danzig's angry song "Mother". Do you wanna bang heads with me! Oh Mother....
Anyways, I've been to Mother's twice, and I was so underwhelmed by the long wait and the quality of the sandwich on the second visit, I vowed never to return. Maybe this is too harsh, but Mother's is the New Orleans version of Geno's and Pat's.— rascal b. schuylkillian- I've been there a total of three times, Rascal. First time was really great. Second time it was good but they forgot my food while bringing out everyone else's in a group of like 10, haha. This time they completely dropped the ball and just didn't give us our damn food forever. And it was slow! I've never really had any issues with the grub itself but the service is a bit wack and uninterested, and not in a shticky funny way either. And you're right, it is comparable to G's and P's in that lots of outsiders know about it. I will say, though that while there are certainly more delicious joints out there doing comparable food, it does have a lot of charm. — Drew Lazor
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