Philly's Italian Market

 

It's a place I always wanted to visit but never did despite it's proximity.  I've driven across one of its main intersections en route from Mercy Hospital to IKEA, looked down 9th Street from my driver's lane on Washington Street, but never got out of the car to walk around.  The Italian Market pops up on cooking shows, recently a major segment of an Andrew Zimmern feature on Philadelphia.  Yet I had never ventured there.  It made for a good day trip, some experiences expected, some very different than expected.

South Philadelphia has an Italian Heritage, Rizzo Country with stoked animosities of the 1970's repackaged nationally in our own day.  Of all the places in Philadelphia that I have driven through, South Philly between the sports stadiums and Center City captures my attention most.  As I drive along Broad Street, usually to get from my home to the Endocrine Society evening meetings at Jefferson University Medical Center, I glance at the many small shops, small churches, mostly Italian restaurants, unique street parking configurations, and the many other neighborhood retentions that have avoided the endless fast food franchises and chain pharmacies that dominate where I live.  The Italian Market was at the peak of Rizzo, Angelo Bruno who controlled the local Mafia, and Palumbo's that dominated entertainment as a place to be seen, the centerpiece.

Only fragments remain.  Andrew Zimmern skimmed those old elements, mega cheesesteak emporia of Pats and Genos, Ralph's which is one of the oldest continuously operating Italian restaurants in the USA, a nook bakery that served tomato pie from which I bought a delicious square at a nominal price.  Charm for sure, though not really accurate.  What dominated were not the eating places or shops with Italian names and legacies specializing in unique customized selections of meats or cheeses, but the outdoor produce stands.  Cities, including Philly, have their outdoor farmers markets, though these were not farmers.  They reflect the Italian heritage giving space to the Hispanics who have created a presence not only as green grocers but as restauranteurs and specialty baker outlets.  There's an Indochinese community with one shop I visited manned by a fellow whose knowledge of English seemed limited to the practicalities of handling American currency.  They had nearly sold out of $5 Biden caps, but still had an ample supply of Trump caps in a variety of  hues.  There wasn't any litter.  Outdoor seating was carved out into what used to be fought over parking space to enable the restaurants to function in a Covid-19 environment.  

Not many people shared 9th Street with me. I had read that parking lots filled quickly.  Not true when I was there, and fee not excessive.  I wandered into shops and past people waiting to order their hoagies or roast pork sandwiches from the eatery window.  No long lines, few customers in any of the shops.  In order to make the transition from Italian to Hispanic presence, the Italians had to give up their stores or restaurants.  And today, maybe accelerated by Covid, retail space for rent did not seem scarce.  

If I had one destination shop, it was Fante's, an iconic supplier of high end kitchen ware for the discerning chef.  They had been sponsors of The Frugal Gourmet, that iconic cooking series that I watched every week at its peak popularity,  The star, Jeff Smith, who I termed The Cheap Chef to amuse my then preschool son, once stopped at a mall near us as part of a book tour.  I went with my son, a little starstruck when he pointed to the table where the author was personalizing copies of his latest book, and blurted to the crowd "that's the Cheap Chef."  Fantes would be forever linked to that, so it was a personal honor to tour the shop and appreciate what made The Frugal Gourmet such a devotee of what was a large but niche store with online shopping not to appear until long after Jeff Smith's passing.  I could see why aficionado's of their kitchen willing to invest in the best would come there preferentially one or two times to enable their culinary interest.  And not everything was blatantly excessive in price, though the coffee beans were.  Now I've been there.

Spent a little money.  Good value on tomato pie.  Disappointed with espresso.  Found a suitable item for a Hanukkah gift from the Indochinese shop whose Trump caps did not sell, And from the outdoor stand, good prices on oranges, berries, and fresh figs.

Home by late afternoon, whipped the rest of the heavy cream still in the fridge,placed copiously atop a generous mound of blackberries and raspberries for our dessert that evening.