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Notes from the Weekend: Thanksgiving Edition
Notes from the Weekend is a Monday 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: Thanksgiving Edition
Notes from the Weekend is a Monday 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
Jessica Leung: JL
Nicole Rossi: NR
My guys and I have been doing dinner at Bomb Bomb (1026 Wolf St.) on Thanksgiving eve since we were in high school, but this year we moved uptown and feasted at a very convivial Modo Mio (161 W. Girard Ave.). Turista menu all day — tender octopus with almonds, capers and raisins; bucatini cacio e pepe; pork tenderloin with green apple mostarda; and a sampler of desserts. This narrow, crowded room could make even the most composed server flustered, so I'm continually impressed how the crew here always manages to keep their shit together. Three tips of the toque! —AE
Started my Thanksgiving off like everyone else with a #44 at Pho Hoa (111 S. 11th St.) before driving down to the D.C. 'burbs to grub out at my aunt's place. Caught up with family and ate off two obscenely full plates of food with both hands (including kare-kare, the oxtail peanut stew above) while my aunt yelled at me to eat more (normal). Headed back north later because I lucked into a ticket via good friends for the Harbaugh Bowl Harbowl, pitting the Jim Harbaugh-led 49ers against my Ravens, coached by his superior older brother John. That ended very well and I ate an Italian sausage after drinking a lot of purple-camouflaged Coors Lights. Later I got a fried chicken box from Royal Farms, aka RoFo. Y'all up here don't know about RoFo. GET TO KNOW ROFO. —DL
Woke up somewhat early on Thanksgiving considering the debauchery that took place the night before and began prepping my teeny-tiny kitchen for apple pie baking. A little more than three hours later, I was impressed with how my from-scratch pies came out — bubbling pecan/brown sugar crumble, glazed Fuji apples. Later at dinner, a herd of famished Italians stormed the kitchen, each coming out with at least two plates. Turkey, ham, mashed potatoes and gravy, cavatelli, meatballs and sausage, escarole soup, cranberry sauce, stuffed peppers and corn, all homemade. I can't even get started on desserts. Let's just say the feast continued along with several bottles of Champagne, an awesome apple brandy/St. Germain/bubbly punch and a failed attempt at candy corn vodka (so fucking gross) until about 3 a.m. —NR
Up at 6 a.m. for Thanksgiving prep on Thursday. C and I drug our sleepy bodies to Artisan (1646 S. 12th St.) for breakfast — but they were closed. As was Black & Brew. And B2. NEED COFFEE! Eventually found some at Acme (1400 E. Passyunk Ave.), where we picked up last-minute dinner provisions and decent bagels. Back home, getting the turkey going was first on the list. I rubbed the 25-pound local bird with a compound butter made with rosemary, sage, garlic and orange and lemon zest, then crammed the cavity full of C's mom's Italian-style sausage stuffing. The turkey's supporting cast included fresh Thai-style cranberry sauce, grilled asparagus, chive-and-garlic biscuits, buttermilk mashed potatoes, pineapple bread stuffing, candied yams, broccoli and artichoke casseroles and quince-and-caramelized onion lasagna. Dinner was smallish with just mine and C's immediate fams, but dessert brought cousins and aunts and uncles over, bearing gifts like whoopies pies shaped like pumpkins. I served an apple pie and potica, a Polish walnut/date cake from Andrew Carmellini's American Flavor. —AE
Woke up around 7 a.m. on Friday to sound of a 4-year-old singing loudly, which soon roused the rest of the household — just four hours removed from the previous night's epic feast, breakfast began. I passed a thousand times (Italians have an annoyingly endearing way of always asking if you want to eat) on eggs, ham, bacon and toast and opted for several cups of coffee and a nap in my own bed back in the city. —NR
Friday: Late lunch with mom and sis at DuClaw, a brewpub with multiple Maryland locations, including one in my hometown. Great beer here, but the food falls mostly in the burgery, wingy, too-many-options category. Why do pretty much all brewpubs have the same menu? Exception to this rule at DuClaw is the crab pretzel, buried to death in creamy crab dip and cheddar.I get it every time. —DL
Leftover pastries and turkey sliders comprised breakfast on Friday morning before heading north to Brooklyn for an overnight trip celebrating cousin M's birthday. Copped killer pancakes, fried eggs and sage-scented sausage patties for brunch at Char No. 4 and a sprightly draft-poured Brooklyn Soda Works apple-ginger soda at the stunning 61 Local, before resting up for dinner at Traif in Williamsburg. We sat in a little tented patio and shared more than a dozen small plates, the best of which included crispy veal sweetbreads smothered in sharp green-garlic sauce; electrifying salt-and-pepper shrimp with pineapple; and breakfasty pork ribs glazed in cinnamon-scented strawberry sauce I couldn't get enough of. Nightcaps at the nearby Roebling Tea Room. —AE
Saturday: I boughts some shirts at my favorite little shop Omoi (1608 Pine St.), dropped by Jet Wine Bar (1525 South St.) for a Baltijos (a Lithuanian beer in a pretty bottle) and then American Sardine Bar (1801 Federal St.) for a few quickies, including a Sixpoint stout that tasted inexplicably of curry. Then we made nachos. There were no counterarguments. —DL
That's not District 9, it's Dekalb Market, a pop-up commune of boutiques tucked into recycled shipping containers — exactly the kind of project that makes me mad at New York, because in Philly, something this innovative and cool would be railroaded by unions, crotchety neighbors, the health department or some combination of the three. Should a local version ever appear, I hope Mayhem and Stout brings their luscious short rib sandwich with green harissa and pickled apples. After Dekalb, checked out Brooklyn Flea at its new winter home. Picked up a few Christmas gifts, two hot dogs from Asiadog, a Brooklyn Soda Works root beer and a enormous berry-glazed Dough donut. Passed out on the ride home. —AE
Saturday was fun all around. Got some shopping and martini sipping in during the day, took a nap and grabbed steamed mussels with chorizo and white beans in a roasted corn broth and kabocha squash chips with a soy-lime aioli at Varga Bar (941 Spruce St.). Later met up with friends and hit up the usual Sansom Street suspects. Shoutout to Bar (1309 Sansom St.) for $7 Maker's on the rocks. Ended the night with good ol' H2O, music and dancing at Medusa (27 S. 21st St.). —NR
It took a while for me to get hungry again back in Philly, but when I did Santucci's (10th and Christian) fit the bill for lazy takeout. Rich creamy tomato soup was spot-on, and my favorite salad in town (bibb/apple/pickled onion/blue cheese/apple cider vin) didn't disappoint, but the pizza with long hots was extra-extra-extra-good on Saturday. Got an Uncle Joe's stromboli, too, just to be safe. —AE
Sunday was all about the errands and working out at the gym, although I couldn't shake the craving for a burger and fries. Good Dog's (224 S. 15th St.) ended up winning me over with sweet potato fries and their classic roquefort-stuffed, caramelized onion-loaded patty on brioche. —NR
Sunday was, of course, spent sleeping in, Thanksgiving recovery style. Munched on some leftover pumpkin bread with pita and hummus for lunch and watched a little TV. The BF and I then stumbled upon the soft opening of Belle Cakery (1437 E. Passyunk Ave.), where we got to sample some of Jessie Prawlucki's shortbread cookie sandwiches and mini tiramisu. Soon after we crossed the street for some beers, food and football at the P.O.P.E. (1501 E. Passyunk Ave). —JL
Kept it walking-distance takeout Sunday. Croissants from Artisan for breakfast, chicken parm sandwiches from Adriana's (1703 S. 11th St.) for lunch and gnocchi, "Mama's Style" tomato pie and caesar salad from Francoluigi's (1549 S 13th St.) for dinner. Gym tomorrow. —AE
Speaking of pizza: I screwed some up real good Sunday night. Defrosted a few pizza-dough rounds, which felt and appeared completely normal as I rolled them out, dressed them up and threw them on the stone in the oven. Though it looks tasty and normal in the pic, the top layer of the pie refused to bake. Everything else crisped and browned and cooked except the layer just below the toppings. It remained raw and disgusting even after extended baking time. Same dough, same stone, same oven temp as a previous sesh that produced amazing results. What causes such an annoying pizza malady? Please let me know. —DL
Thursday morning about 8am the cider and honey brined bird went on the smoker over some mesquite and was a beautiful mahogany by 3pm. At about noon, I snuck out back for some alone time with a dozen blue points. Took 2 down raw and threw the remaining 10 over the smoke for 5 minutes - might have been a minute too long, but they were still good and took on some nice smoke. Dinner sides involved:garlic mashed potatoes, an orange/bourbon baked cranberry sauce, sausage cornbread stuffing and a ton of veggies.
Turkey Terrifics all weekend.
Sunday tailgating for the Pats victory was pulled pork, brats which I marinated in beer then grilled and then reheated at the lot with more beer and kraut. Also did a smoked onion dip with the onions that I smoked in the bird on TH.
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