Great Chefs Event 2011

So tonight is the Great Chef Event at the Navy Shipyard at the end of Broad Street here in Philly. It is a pretty amazing event that benefits Alex's Lemonade Stand which "fights childhood cancer one cup at a time." Years ago when we lived on the Main Line, I remember these stands popping up. Alex lived on the Main Line. Her story is amazing. Marc Vetri met this family and was moved by their story. He created this event to raise money for this foundation.

We have created three Alex's Lemonade Stand Sorbetti flavors. Lemonade, Basil Lemonade and Vodka Lemonade. Come and eat amazing food and cool off with some frozen lemonade.

I was listening to NPR the other day and how giving actually releases a hormone that makes you feel good. How awesome is that? It is a selfish thing. So be selfish tonight. Want to eat good food, meet amazing chefs, and feel good about giving? Do it.... Do it now....

Buen Viaje, Cristofo!

Chris' last day is approaching and I am sad. Chris is our manager at CapoPenn. He started with us years ago. I think it has been at least 3 years. There are so many things that I will miss about him. He moved here from the west coast and brought with him a way of looking at life that was truly unique. I loved his take.

We started this blog and I had a few rules and a few requirements. I wanted it to be about our company, our employees and I wanted it to show our personality. Everyone could write about what excited them. Even if it did not apply to gelato or coffee. Chris, well.. Chris wrote about cats and their vacations, beer, coffee, unicorns and he predicted the future. I read his posts with my mouth hanging open in shock. I would wonder if he was high when writing. Chris does not roll that way. His mind is unfettered by drugs and alcohol, although he does love a good beer. He is naturally brilliant and twisted. Unfortunately, Chris chose to only blog once a month at most, no matter what flattery I threw his way. Dan thought that my constant requests for a blog post resulted in the content. He pondered whether Chris was trying to punish me with his antics. It actually made me an addict of his writing, always jonesing for more. Thank you for letting me peek into that brilliant mind. I am so appreciative. My only request is that you write something proper. Proper as in, get yourself published! Just start with some short stories. I promise you will be rewarded.

Chris is a master of coffee and a true artisan. At one point (prior to the Wall Street crash), Capo had plans to roast our own coffee. Chris signed up! He was a scholar and passionate about all things coffee. The reason you can have a perfect espresso or cappuccino is all Chris' doing. He trains, he fusses, he takes temperatures, he measures, he cares about the coffee we serve. Our baristi care so much because his passion is contagious. Chris and I would occasionally bump heads, being two passionate people. I want to thank him for the process. It was worth it.

I will miss his humor and his brilliance. He and his incredibly talented wife are off to another country to hopefully find a new edge in their reality. I want nothing more than a Kate Samworth painting on my wall to look at while I sit on a comfy couch reading a work of Chris Weybright. Truly I do.

John and I will miss you terribly and wish you Kate success and adventure. You are two people who deserve it more than most. Please please please don't disappear from all our lives. You have made it richer. Write us, take pictures, and maybe guest post?...mayhaps....

I invite anyone who has a great Chris story or would like to wish him well, to share. Come in and say your goodbyes. We only have him for a little more time.

Chris' response to the video below that was making it's way around all our email boxes.

"This is shockingly similar to how Kate and I spend our evenings together."

New Orleans Report #1

New Orleans was spectacular! I am not one to brag (I only boast), but I really do love it there. The townies are so proud of their city. I do wish Philly would stand a little taller. It is not as if we have anything to hang our heads about. New Orleans has similar problems; John's Dad calls Philly and New Orleans "Sister Cities". I have to agree. Yet, everywhere you look a sign of city pride is there; a fleur de lis, a string of beads, "WHO DAT!" painted on the side of a school, and a gallon of milk has a little Saints mascot on the the cap. It is inspiring.

The holiday went as planned. Our usual Christmas Eve with linguine alle vongole, scallops and sauteed spinach. My nephews were alter boys at St. Francis of Assisi. It was beautiful. They have a full choir complete with brass organ and a full brass section. I loved hearing the trumpets and trombones during mass. The priest ended the service by asking everyone to call on the Saints for Monday night. The saints being Peter, Paul, John, etc. How funny is that?

We had our usual visits to Cafe Du Monde, Casamento's and R and O's, but we walked over to Domalise's for lunch on Christmas Eve to find them closed. What a disappointment. This year we tried Parkway Bakery and Tavern. Spectacular! Big shrimp with a light fry. It was glorious. At Casamento's we met the 2009 World Shucking Campion. He was fantastic and funny. He told us of how he was robbed this year of the title. While he talked, he would drop extra oysters into our metal cup of sauce. We had a few dozen while chatting and waiting for a table. The oyster loaf was as good as ever and the fried crab claws have no equal. We were quite lucky this year. We were the very last people in line for a table. We arrived at 1:30, closing time is at 2. The line was moving slowly and snaked out the door and down the street. We are a party of 10. At exactly 2 o'clock, John, Tiger, Christine and I managed to get in the front door. The six kids were outside monkeying around. Directly on cue, the waitress looked up from the back of the restaurant and started moving forward. "Excuse me, please move, excuse me, exCUUUUUSE me please!" It was a big line. At least 15 - 20 people ahead of us. She pointed at Tiger, asked if we were together and announced that we were the last in line. She agreed to let our kids stay outside while we waited. Honestly, I was tempted to ditch them if she said that they could not join us. I kid! ...Not really. She informed us, as she was drawing the shades and placing a huge CLOSED sign on the door, that if we let someone else in and get in line, we lose our table and they get ours. About 18 minutes later (2:18 people!), a woman smashes through the door and pushes in between Tiger and John (no exaggeration). We all made eye contact with each other but she would not look up. She was busy manically pushing her sleeve up trying to look at her watch while avoiding our eyes. She clearly knew the deal. I looked through the blinds and saw a group of about 5 standing outside the door and our kids looking at them confused. We had told our kids to let anyone know who came that they stopped taking people in line. After gently trying to get her attention, which she ignored, Tiger, who is 6'4" and not easy to ignore, leaned down and told her that we were the last people in line and if we let her in we sacrificed our table. She looked at him blankly. Tiger smiled and told her that that was not going to happen. Without a word she turned and left. What people will do for an oyster loaf! Honestly, I don't blame them.

It was unusually cold for New Orleans. We actually saw some flurries one morning. I know, I know, I left behind that obnoxious blizzard. I have no room for complaints. We bundled up and visited some of the old cemeteries in the city and searched for the cript of Marie Laveau. Our search was fruitless. Of course we left for the airport planning a trip during Mardi Gras or perhaps Jazzfest. I would love some sausage bread and fried green tomatoes! Who knows what will bring. It will surely bring another dinner at Patois and hopefully some more music. More? you ask? Yes, more. Although John prefers Tipatina's (he still has this ratty old Tipatina's tshirt that makes an appearance periodically), the House of Blues is an incredible venue. Trombone Shorty, y'all!!

The Church of Prosciutto

Ah, back to Italy. With the freezing weather approaching (26 the high this weekend!), I find myself thinking of warmer weather and vacation. I know, I know, I think of vacation quite a bit. I work to live and to go on vacation!! Work hard, party hard!

Now I would like to share with you a story about my mother-in-law, better known as la suocera (pronouced swo-serr-rah). I know I have told you about her love of persimmons and my love of her. My in-laws are really good to me. Remember that lunch in Venice? Well, during that same trip we traveled all throughout the North. We visited friends, played some soccer and ate really well. I am sure this is not the last y'all will hear about this trip. On our way to Udine to buy a DiNatale jersey for Manny, we stopped for lunch in San Daniele.

It was the season of festas and the entire center of town was clogged with a festa or fair. We called them Festas of Underwear and Cheap Kitchen Utensils. You would recognize these fairs. They are identical to church fairs held in every town in America, every summer. Some Festas are incredible! Frico, Prosciutto, certain cheeses, awesomeness... A lot of time, this is just one part of the festa, with the majority of tables selling underwear and cheap kitchen utensils. This was an underwear festa. We struggled to get to somewhere for lunch. Lunch would be at one of the incredible Prosciutterie. A prosciutteria is a small place in which the entire menu is composed of prosciutto. Yes, it is everything you would think it is and more!

There were 11 of us and we sat outside at a long wooden table on benches. Domenic, John's Dad, has a lunch every day that consists of prosciutto, mozzarella, tomato salad and bread. It is one of his favorite things on the planet and here we were at his personal Mecca. What does he do? He orders a bowl of tortellini. Anna, la suocera, barks, "Domenic! What are you doing?!?! Order prosciutto or you will regret it!" Silly Domenic! He obeys.

Plates of prosciutto with melon, prosciutto with olives, cheese and mushrooms, prosciutto with tomatoes are delivered along with bottles of Tocai Friulano. Tocai is the perfect, and I mean PERFECT wine to drink with prosciutto. I was sitting next to Anna and made sure that her glass was always full. The kids ordered Fanta. Italian Fanta is more natural than the stuff we get here. We ate and laughed and drank and Domenic was in heaven. It was a monumental lunch.

Drunk and happy and stuffed with cured pork, we decided to walk the town until we could safely leave. We staggered through the lovely, hilly town, looked out to Austria and sucked up the sun. We stumbled upon La Chiesa di San Daniele. It is a beautiful church, white and austere. Inside it is cool and stark, calm and vaulting. I have a habit of always finding the Mary section and giving props to the girl. I noticed that the candles that you could light had a pic of the church with the inscription "Chiesa di San Daniele". I had to give one to my friend Francine. I turned to Anna and asked, "Do you think if I just paid the 2 euro I could keep the candle?" Anna looked horrified and replied in a Tocai filled Italian accent "No, no, no, Stephanie! No!" She paused, "Pay double!" I placed 4 euros in the box and slipped my candle in my bag.

See? I love her.

Meet My Dad...

Last night, Manny belted out a rendition of Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody from the next room. I was just sitting there enjoying a grapefruit margarita (with ice thank you) and found myself smiling all over. Life is grand. I don't know if y'all know this, but I am a political junkie. I love it and hate it, as we all do. On certain days, I feel like I have been punched in the kidneys by the day's events. I try not to let it get me down. I have friends, like Dan, Kamala, Marisa and Francine who tell me to knock it the f*@%! off, when I start furrowing my brow. What am I rambling about, aside from the Patron, it's life mother puckers!

Life. Let's all just skip back down memory lane and remember why we do what we do. Why we love what we love. Why we should love what we do. Above is a pic of ....guess. It's the 70's, obviously. So smart, you are...I have my Dad's coloring and my mom's bone structure. I wish I had their height. My Mom was close to 6 foot! You can see they are happy. My dad left this earth shortly before my 30th birthday and I miss him. My Mom, she will never recover. He was nuts and dogmatic and would tickle me until I would pee in my pants. I will never forgive him for that. He had a knack for saying the most inappropriate things. Shut up! I know.... He could fix about anything and was always there for me. No one was more excited about being a grandfather. My brother once gave me the most random information about..I think it was concrete. When I mocked him, his response was, "I am my father's son." My point is that my Dad knew what he loved and he loved food. I learned to love food through my Dad.

My Dad was the king of the deli sandwich, Chinese food or any Asian product, pickled vegetables, mustard, sausage, ribs, raw bar....I could go on. The man loved food. He grew up in Rhode Island and spent his adult years in NYC. One of my first and most vivid memories is of my Dad putting a clam on the half shell to my lips on the boardwalk and me choking. He held me upside down by my ankle as he pounded my back to dislodge the bivalve. I cried and he took me for a waffle ice cream sandwich, Napolitano style sprinkled with powdered sugar, to erase the whole incident. I miss that man! My first taste of Indian, Korean and Japanese was with my Dad. He roared when I first tried wasabi. Roared! (read: annoying) He judged a restaurant by how many "round eyes" were in the place. Not too many? Good! I mentioned he was inappropriate, no?

It's a new year. Let's introduce someone to something we love. Why we love. Why we are passionate. Mike Feldman, my Dad. He has never had our gelato. He would have loved it. Now go do it! He would be proud of you!

13th Street, 19107...A Love Story

This weekend rang in sweet and warm, reminiscent of cooler summer nights and lines out the door. "Melee" might be one of my favorite words, and occasionally comes to mind when I'm standing at the case offering samples to twenty or thirty adults jostling one another, occasionally in drunken stupors, grabbing to be the first to taste Cioccolato Scuro, or those newfangled flavors we've been offering up lately - Molasses, Arroz con Leche, Croccante al rhum...The thing is, speaking for myself anyway, I absolutely love the chaos of a beautiful night on 13th Street. Granted, it might not always be pretty, but it's always interesting and at very least keeps you on your toes.

One of my favorite things about working here is when we have a family visiting Philadelphia for the first time stop by and inquire about where they should head, what restaurants they should check out, is the Italian Market reallyreallyreally far away and scary, what exactly is the Rheeeding Market" they've been hearing all about?? This exact thing happened on Saturday night - a family from the Midwest greatly excited about getting gelato (Dad fell in love with Basil...), and knowing what the insiders know, came in with a flurry of questions.

What did I try to impress upon them the most? Philadelphia and its FOOD! As La Regina has begun to iterate, Philadelphia is a food loving metropolis. I'm from Delaware, and before I moved here would make weekly (ok ok sometimes biweekly...) trips to Philly for groceries. Always hitting 9th Street for super cheap produce and an occasional stop at Fante's, and just as often hauling myself to restaurants all over the city to appreciate the deep and lasting pride Philadelphia's chefs and restaurateurs take in their work.

Now that I've been here for a few years (3, but who's counting?) and have immersed myself into the unique stride that is the City of Brotherly Whiz Wit', I can say with all truth that very little has changed, except I am now among those inflated with the pride a city can bring. Yes, we have our ups and downs, and like I said it's not always pretty, but the one thing I know that I can say to tourists and mean it with every fiber of my being is that there is good food to be found here, and chances are good you don't have to look hard at all. But I promise, it's always worth it, even if you have to walk a few blocks.

Why I Love Philly, Part 1

I have been asked by many for recommendations for places to eat when they travel. I keep a restaurant diary for every country and town we come across, no matter how small or large a place. We love to travel. It may seem like we NEED to get away. That is not the case, entirely. I love Philadelphia. I am not a native, but I have lived here long enough to consider myself "from Philadelphia". All three of my kids were born here.

I want to share the love. Today I am going to start sharing with you why I love Philly and why you should too! I won't just stick to food, but will touch on all ways to lovelovelove the City of Brotherly Love. BUT, I will start with Food!! Of course, I think that Capo has the quickest best lunch, but a girl can only have so many grilled mozzarella tomato pesto panini before she starts looking around! I will venture out the doors of Capo and introduce you to some other place in my hometown.


Lunch. Yes, lunch. I am stuck on lunch. Philadelphia is a place that has a huge selection of homegrown, delicious, inexpensive lunch options. Believe it or not, big chain fast food joints are not as easy to access and Philadelphians prefer other options. My kids have had fast food, oh..maybe three times. My son, Manny, was coming home from a soccer tournament in NYC with some of his teammates, when they stopped at McDonald's. Manny announced that he never had MickyD's and was...excited. The entire van, parents and all, turned with dropped jaws and collectively gasped. It is easy peasy to ignore fast food when you live in a city. No drive-thrus, no convenience, it is absolutely inconvenient. Yes, I have read all those "books". Honestly, I prefer freshly made, local places that contribute to the local fabric of our neighborhoods. Chains and fast food places constitute blight. On a lighter note, Manny announced that he did not like McDonald's, except for the fries. The burgers were dry and he preferred...

Good Dog. You have to give my 11 year old credit. He prefers a roquefort stuffed, carmelized onioned burger to fast food. He loves the sweet potato fries, which I hate! They are not bad fries, they are delicious. I just happened to think sweet potatoes are evil and do not want them corrupting my fries. Happily, the folks there understand my aversion and give me plain ole fries. The sweet potato fries are delicious if you like evil roots, and this burger is monumental with its brioche bun and core of molten roquefort. I have never had a poorly cooked burger there. A must.


Tampopo! Delicious AND healthy! Once again, a family favorite. Spicy Tofu Rice Bowl, Chicken Katsu, Veggie Soba Noodles, Bim Bim Bap and Spicy Chicken Breast Rice Bowl are my family's choice items. Tampopo is Korean Japanese fast food. Never heavy, always served hot and delicious and they play the greatest music.

Taco Riendo. This place is located in Northern Libeties, bordering Kensington. The peeps here are from Puebla. Philadelphia is also known as Puebladelphia. The food here is amazing. Fresh and delicious. John gets the fish tacos and I get the sopes. The kids love the burritos and the fresh juices in the summer are crisp. Pics courtesy of Foodaphilia.


Sansom Street Kabob House. This is my favorite place. I could eat here everyday (I have). The most lovely family owns this place. Their little girls will be there, doing homework, delivering hummus, and smiling with the most beautiful brown eyes. The husband and wife team cooks, serves and clears tables. I love watching the husband make the bread. It is light and airy and crispy and hot. Absolutely lovely. The chicken kabob flavored with turmeric over rice pilaf is delicious. Lentil soup, hummus and stewed eggplant are a must. I love this place!!

Tierra Colombiana. Columbian and Cuban dishes are both served and done equally well. You sit and they serve you this grilled buttery bread. So delicious. Papas rellanas, from the Cuban side - I could eat 500. Perfectly fried mashed potato spheres filled with spiced ground beef and peas. Served with a chunky sauce that I think is hotter than lava.John prefers the grilled salmon and the avocado citrus salad. I go for the Arroz con Pollo, Columbian style.

Lastly, Meme's fried chicken lunch. Only on Thursdays and not so fast. A leisurely Thursday lunch. Fried chicken, biscuit and a Miller High Life. I love to meet my friend Francine there. The chicken is hot, crisp and perfectly fried, the biscuit flaky and buttery, and the beer is uber cold, stored in a tin bucket stuffed with ice. Francine and I gossip and eat with our hands. What girls like to do.

Those are my quick, inexpensive eats, fast food eats. Please join me and ditch fast food. Damn, I said "delicious" way too much.

Roots and rituals.

How was the holiday? Does your arm hurt from all that Wii action? Are your pants a liiiiiiittle tight this morning??? Mine sure are! I destroyed every hollowed out loaf of bread with spinach dip inside it from here to the Alleghenies.
We spent the weekend in West Virginia (save your kissing cousin cracks; I've heard them all a hundred thousand times before and furthermore, my cousins are for the most part wildly unattractive, overzealous religious fanatics or just totally unkissable...). I love WV in all of it's backwards glory. I love southern foods and traditions (though I hail from ABOVE the Mason Dixon Line) and I'd like to share a tiny piece of my family's heritage with you.

It's my grandmother's (Big Ma's) New Year's Day tradition and she would box my ears from the great beyond if I didn't prepare it annually. Black eyed peas, cabbage, collared greens and cornbread on the first day of every year is said to bring you good luck and prosperity. I'm not sure if it has anything to do with a ceremonial "cleansing" of the system.... but, ummm, thats one of the ritual's "perks".

I steam the greens in a big pot with a giant slab of bacon and force friends and neighbors to indulge. They're generally terrified at first. (Why does cabbage scare people so? It's not as if I'm asking them to eat chitlins and pickled pig's feet, sheesh, grow a pair...). After a few bites the fear dissipates and it's replaced with a newfound addiction to soul food. If you ask me, nothing says "Happy New Year" like black eyed peas and a slab of swine... MAN, I wish we'd make bacon flavored gelato... We ask all the time but, the Reitanos are very ANTI-meat based gelati. Party poopers. ;) Curb your craving with a pint of our Sea Salt Gelato in the meantime, we'll keep begging.

Whatever your traditional or non-traditional New Year's palate requires, I hope it finds you in good health and among family and friends. Happy Holidays, friends and don't worry about the extra pounds. I'd take bacon over a bikini any day.