The Ubereater Goes to Philly

It is indeed, fitting, that I spent the first weekend in April celebrating my brother’s 23^rd birthday in where else,but the City of Brotherly Love.

Having spent four years at Lehigh University, the 50-minute ride south to Philadelphia was more a novel get-away for cooped-up students looking to escape the eternal gloom of a post-apocalyptic steel town, than an everyday destination for killing time after class. Of course, at a school where having a car was more a God-given right than a privilege, the ability to travel off campus, let alone leave the Lehigh Valley, was clearly taken for granted. I, of course, was wonderful and extremely appreciative of the fact that my best friend (let’s call him Wood) had a car on campus for both our Junior and Senior years. With a set of wheels, a few dollars in our pockets (very few), and a relentless itch to leave the Lehigh bubble behind, Wood and I trekked to South Philly more than a dozen times. Some impromptu, others planned, and all memorable, these trips were as therapeutic for the soul as they were the stomach. And as much as I can vividly recall the sudden and often excruciatingly painful post-Pat’s indigestion that would make the ride home in shotgun pure agony, I’ll most fondly remember reveling in the lingering aroma of steak fat, hot sauce, and solidified cheese wiz that emanated from the oft-soiled right sleeve of my never-washed Abercrombie sweatshirt. A 9AM International Finance class never smelled so good.

But before nostalgia and mental trappings of yesteryear render me completely off topic, I must focus my efforts on my most recent foray into Philly food. Five years later, and a lifetime ago from my shirt-sniffing, long-haired Lehigh Days, I have returned to this city older, wiser, and of course, more laundered. I have returned as The Ubereater to tell my story…

Our journey began at pod, located in the heart of UPENN’s buzzing campus in West Philly. This hyper-themed Asian bistro belongs to the renowned Philly-based Starr Restaurant Group, for whom my brother Ed is employed as a budding chef. Pulsating beats are a proper backdrop for this trendy mixture of comely coeds and wizened older couples mingling about a vast space pimped out with neon pink lighting and white mod furnishings. Needless to say (then why am I saying it?), this place is a far cry from the dingy basement bar serving $2 pitchers and baskets of popcorn that I was accustomed to in my collegiate days.

Food-wise, the menu was not nearly as hypnotizing as the décor, offering a fairly standard selection of classic Asian eats. The Crab Cake Spring rolls (below left) were a delicate package of fresh lump crab meat and fresh vegetables, wrapped neatly in quick-fried goodness that was not at all oily. Additionally, on the recommendation of little bro, we took aim at the Calamari Salad (below right), which combined ever-so-slightly battered flash-fried calamari and mixed greens in a zesty lemongrass vinaigrette. Light and colorful, I would definitely order this again. In the end, my pad thai (below center) was a straightforward conclusion to the meal, while Meghan’s wasabi-crusted pork may have been a bit heavy on the wasabi.

Food: B+/A- (thoughtful yet respectful approach to Asian classics)
Ambiance: B (typical over the top décor from Starr Group, definitely sure of itself, not my scene)
Service: B (could’ve been a bit tighter at times – long breaks between courses)
In a thought: “Solid Asian eats that, if anything, are a bit overshadowed by the surrounding noise. Or maybe I’m just old.”

The following day, saddled with a nasty craving for a cheesesteak, and eager to give somebody else a chance, we made our way to Campo’s. Quietly minding its own business in Philly’s vibrant Olde City neighborhood, this family-run shop boasts a devout following of Cheesesteak connoisseurs that swear by its take on the king of all Philly treats. My ‘steak (bottom left) was a moist, wonderful mess of salty thinly-sliced ribeye blasted with tart diced raw onions, and comfortably nested in a long Italian roll slathered in silky-smooth velveeta-esque cheese wiz. This was a damn good steak, albeit a cleaner, less sinful, more “PG” version of what you get at Pat’s, Geno’s or Tony Luke’s. Still, it’s a must try. I also tried another Philly favorite known as the “Roast Pork Italian” (bottom right), which harmonizes roast pork, chards of sharp provolone cheese, and broccoli rabe on the same supple Italian roll. Though I appreciate Campo’s roasting its own pork, their concoction was too light on the sharp provolone, and lacked the necessary one-two punch of salt and tang that makes Tony Luke’s iconic version so unforgettable.

Food: B+/A- (tasty cheesesteak that is a bit less guilt-ridden than other classics like Pat’s and Geno’s, a must go!)
Ambiance: B (nothing spectacular, if anything, a bit cramped, but so what)
Service: N/A (no table service, the food took about 10 mins, a bit longer than the 10 second wait time at Pat’s and Geno’s)
In Short: “Despite stellar versions of Philly classics, I’m not sure long-time Pat’s/Geno’s/Tony Luke’s fans will be converting anytime soon.”

Before catching the train back to New York, we stopped at Pietro’s Pizza for some Sunday pie. A firm crust, ample sweet sauce, and delicate layers of mozzarella made for a satisfactory coal oven pie, though I can’t help but feel as though this pie lacked the pizazz of a New York City pie gushing with bold flavors that are hard to forget.