On our anniversary last week, I was busy cramming for exams and John was rafting the Upper Gulley. Our celebration of our first year of marriage, therefore, took place on Thursday.
You might say the night was kind of doomed from the start. After getting drenched head to toe (literally, I looked like a drowned rat) in a flash thunderstorm and then enduring two hours of an unanticipatedly painful choir rehearsal in an overly air-conditioned room, I came home in a foul mood. John had done some research and found this adorable and affordable Italian bistro just 1.5 miles away, on a walk that would take us past something like six of Philly’s best parks and squares. But then, moments after the last damp spot on my dress dried, the rain came down again around park #3, and we arrived to the bistro wet and shivering…just as they closed their kitchen. Any attempt on my part to laugh it off was overcome by my rumbling stomach, wet clothing, and more impatient demons. In other words: I tried to be cool but was, instead, a bitch. Poor husband.
As I ran to try to catch a taxi, the clicking of my heels scared this woman leaving the bistro half to death–she thought that this old dude who was flirting with her at the bar might be following her…llllllll. Without skipping a beat, the woman (Dawn) asked us if we needed a ride somewhere, and then proceeded to drive us home. Talk about the City of Sisterly Love, right? And you would think this unexpected kindness would be enough to turn my mood around…
Then we showed up to restaurant #2, Supper, again just in time to see them closing the kitchen (9:30pm closing for like every restaurant in Philly? Really?!). But the bar was still open. Well, twist my arm, why don’t ya! We sat down, and Candice took care of us. FYI, this woman makes the best vodka gimlets in the world (her secret: bag the Rose’s and go for fresh lime juice with just a hint of simple syrup). And that’s the story of how John and I drank our anniversary dinner, with a dessert of spicy bar popcorn. Classy and delicious.
So…our time at Supper on Thursday was definitely hazy…we decided to clarify things by returning for a proper supper last night. We sat at the same place and let Candice work her magic, this time substituting sea bass and local chicken with farm vegetables for Thursday’s Dogfish Head IPA and Grey Goose. Oh. My. God. Ecstasy by the forkful–sounds kinky.
And Supper has other things going for it too (as though the food and Candice weren’t enough!). It is a mere two blocks from my front door, and it has this fun ambiance about it–like a fusion between an old hotel lobby and a country farm, with some modern elements as well, like its central chandelier.
And a few other neighborhood discoveries:
Garce’s Trading Company, a restaurant, charcuterie, cafe, bakery, and wine shop all rolled into one! It’s BYOB, so here’s what you do: get seated at a table; pour over their menu trying to decide between all mouth-watering options; and, when you’ve finally made up your mind (that’s the tough part), you stroll into the attached wine cellar, and pick out a bottle (or several) that pairs nicely. No uncorking fee.
Sabrina’s, just a hop skip and a jump down 9th street toward to the Italian market. Lolo and Lauren introduced us to Sabrina’s when we were in Philly for Sarah’s wedding in June, and I’ve gone back twice since. I went with my dad and Krystyna for brunch the morning after the white coat. The cacophony created within the echoing walls of the converted townhouse was a little irritating at first (especially given the fact that my dad and I both have what John’s diagnosed as “processing issues”), but completely forgotten once our perfect omelets arrived and our table neighbors offered us their unfinished half a bottle of morning champagne. I’ll tell you again, City of Brotherly Love, it’s not a rumor! And then I enjoyed a charming outdoor dinner with the lovely Jackie two weeks later.
Have I mentioned I love my neighborhood?