The Philadelphia Italian Market - Something Old and something New. Or maybe Same old, same old! Not true, not true. Definitely not a travelogue. It’s an ages-old neighborhood, a South Philly open air, old world, walking, talking, hawking, instructions on classic Italian food– everything you wanted to know. The In and Out of Good and Strange. Or, put another way, would you walk into your supermarket to go food shopping if it looked and felt and smelt like that? (Smelt, not the fish, it’s Philadelphianese for Smell. Also instead of “You all”, or “Y’all,” there is “Yews,” not the trees or shrubs, but as in “Yews guys.” So much for Smelt, and Philadelphianese. After three short blocks, you’ll see a few tables sitting in front of the coffee and pastry store. Across the street there’s a two story high mural of cheese, and a three story high Frank Rizzo wall mural. He was the Philadelphia Police Commissioner that became the Philadelphia Mayor-hero of South Philadelphians.. But, there’s no Mario Lanza, or Sylvester Stallone/Rocky Balboa wall portrait here. There’s no Frankie Avalon, or Marion Anderson, or Jack Klugman and Joey Bishop, Jim Croce, or Chubby Checker murals – just Frank Rizzo and Cheese. But wait. You’ve never seen photos like these. (not the wall murals) Are they photos or art? Do vegetables really look like this? All roads lead to Italian Sausage and pasta. How can you smell and salivate over photo art? How can cheese and appetizers, vegetable, fish and clams, pasta and steak sandwiches come at you like that? No salivating’s allowed. What do you have to gain by walking into a market butcher shop? You’ll hear and see things you only heard about, and never saw in a supermarket. There was deer, rabbit, alligator, snake, ostrich, and on. Is this Italian food? You may be looking at the meats but what you’re hearing can be more interesting. A talking cook book is going on with a customer and a white jacketed butcher. There’s an argument. This time it’s the spices, not the cut of meat. A spice accompaniment disagreement ensued. Spices in a butcher shop? Then there was an Italian pronunciation similar to bra-tcho-lee which is braciole. (the spelling) But what about sausage? Decorative ceilings take on a whole new meaning – hanging sausages. They’re only a teaser – the link to fit with what they’re selling. From the time you walked in, you noticed the spice and sausage odors drift downward to hit your senses. A pepperoni almost hits you. Is this a pasta store?.Might smell like a sausage but it isn’t just a sausage store. And then someone shouts “Shut your mouth.” A brief silence and then a “Smell this!.” Be prepared for this one. But what about cheese?:You may think a narrow store is very limiting, and that 3.5 persons standing closely together is overwhelming, but it’s not. You’ll experience a sensory utopia that closeness can bring you in this cheese shop. The customers are moving a step at a time. Brings you the smell of a cheese. It repeats itself. The eye does a zoom onto one cheese or another. This seeing is made possible through the selective smelling you’ve come upon; It’s an instinct. You, no doubt, have eaten many types of things in many different ways over years of maturing. Did someone ever photograph you eating a Philly Cheese Steak on a big roll loaded up and down with spicy ingredients? Was your head tilted right or left when biting or chewing into the fat, long roll? No talking – not needed or can’t. But, how good. And then there are the two famous cheese steak parking spot stories But what’s for dessert? Ever eat a 110 year old cannoli while looking for your car?
