On where to eat if you're ever in Philly, part 2. Sandwiches and ethnic cuisine.

Continuing on from yesterday's post!  Don't worry, this'll be the last one for a little while.  I could babble about food for long enough to turn this into a food blog, and that's not the point of this exercise.

ANYWAY.

Sandwiches
I should stop here for a second and say something about sandwiches in Philadelphia.  People say 'oh, hey, a sandwich is a sandwich, what's the big deal?', and they should be fucking slapped.  To make a good- no, scratch that, a great sandwich, you have to pay attention to every goddamned detail about it.  And that starts with the bread.  I don't care if you're making something as time-honored and traditional as a muffuletta or you're going haywire with the newfangled stuff at SCRATCHbread, a great sandwich starts with great bread.  And Philly sandwich shops know this.

Which is why DiNic's in the Reading Terminal Market won Adam Richman's Best Sandwich in America.  It's nothing fancy, just roasted pork with sharp provolone and greens.  But each aspect of that sandwich is so carefully balanced and flawlessly executed from the crusty roll to the broccoli rabe that it brought home the crown.

(It should be noted that you shouldn't ignore everything else there; there's some really awesome food at the Market.  For instance, I'm currently having a love affair with a Peking duck place that does duck noodle soup.  Just make the roast pork sandwich a priority.)

And of course, you can't come to Philly without having a cheesesteak.  First thing you need to know is what all the locals know already - Pat's and Gino's are exactly as shitty as each other, and should be avoided at all costs.  Even Tony Luke's, with all its accolades, is just kind of 'meh' on my radar.  For me, I stick to my local joint, Dalessandro's.  I couldn't even tell you what makes me dream about this place.  Maybe it's how the bread is soft, but never soggy.  Or how the beef is fall-apart tender even though it's cooked through.  Or how the cheese just disappears into the meat and marries the crushed hots into one melty, salty, punchy mass that breeds mouthful after mouthful of joy.  Or maybe it's just because I can friggin' walk there if I wanted to.

Honestly, after leaving New York, I never thought I'd find a falafel sandwich that could match up to the little East Village holes in the wall I'd stumble into, drunk and hungry.  But lo and behold, there was Mama's Vegetarian just behind where I was opening the Philly branch of Pure Tacos.  And sweet fancy Moses do they make a ridiculously tasty sandwich.  House-baked pita, freshly-fried falafel, simple, fresh veggies.  It's a humble sandwich, but one that simply cannot be beat.

Ethnic Stuff
Sorry if this section sounds racist, but by now, I'm so hunger-blind that I can't be fucked to come up with a better description of it.

Two years in a row now I've attended La Panarda at Le Virtu.  If you want to know what it is, read this article on it (wherein I am quoted, even if Alex spelled my name wrong).  But past this ricockulous meal, this place serves up handmade pastas and salumi cured in the basement.  I've seen the curing room.  It's the most humidity-controlled wet dream I've ever seen.  Seriously, though, Chef Cicala specializes in the cuisine of a region of Italy not often highlighted (Abruzzese) and not to be missed.  His brodos alone will make you cry.

Speaking of crying, if you're into serious Sichuan cuisine, and I mean serious about it, get your ass to the the most incredible Chinese restaurant with the most hilarious URL: Han Dynasty.  Owner Han Chiang got sick of pulling his punches for you round-eyes, and the result is richly flavorful offerings that, at the higher echelons of the menu, will make you weep fire and spit lava.  The simply, but aptly named 'Spicy Hot Pot' nearly took down my best friend, and he's in the P'Hall of Fame.

Okay.  I gotta stop before I start gnawing on my keyboard.  I had some high expectations moving here, considering I'd left the vast culinary playground of NYC only a couple of years before, but Philly's really stepped up their game.  It's quickly turning into a hell of an eating city, and I'm sure I'll be back on this subject as I explore my new home.

Cheers, guys!  See you tomorrow.