No matter where one enters Reading Terminal Market, the scenes that await are as varied as the people perusing them. From Filbert, it's a confectionary fantasia with Chocolate by Mueller; farther up on 12th Street, the Dutch Corner brings Lancaster County to the heart of the city; at the 11th Street entrance, a shoeshine booth and the ragtime stylings of resident pianist Al Lauer recall an earlier epoch of the 113-year-old Market's history. Under one roof, these anachronistic slices of time and place coexist, vying for space and for the customers winding through the labyrinthine aisles.
The smells wafting their way through the twists and turns of the market are often the best indicator of what's to come next, whether it's the delicious chicken coconut soup at the Little Thai Market, piping hot Snickerdoodles from Famous 4th Street Cookie Company, or freshly-cut ranunculus on sale at The Flower Basket. But some finds at the Market are far from expected or even immediately identifiable. At the Spice Terminal -- pickled watermelon rind and blackstrap molasses. At Iovine Brothers produce -- mini patty-pan squash and dried hedgehog mushrooms. There's mantequilla- and fennel-stuffed olives from Downtown Cheese, raw goats' milk at the Lancaster County Dairy, cheesecake bread pudding from Andro's and sanded horehound candies -- brown nuggets said to be "good for the throat" -- at Fisher's. For cooks on the quest for that elusive key ingredient, be it Creole mustard or fresh honeycomb, one of the Market's dozens of dealers is likely to hold the key. And for those unsure of just what to do with that quince paste from Salumeria, The Cook Book stall provides hundreds of inspiring volumes.
Yet Reading Terminal isn't just a gourmand's mecca; it's also the perfect spot for bargain hunters to get their weekly groceries. For instance, Esh Egg Farms offers a wide variety of cheeses and makes them available in small quantities, perfect for a sandwich or two, and often priced under a dollar. Fruits and vegetables at the various produce stands are almost invariably priced lower than at the supermarket, and many offer dollar "grab bags" of overstocked items. Specialty stalls often serve as hybrids of markets and eateries, boasting both prepared meals and the ingredients to emulate them at home. The hardest part for the budget-conscious is not finding what you want or getting decent prices, but avoiding the constant temptations that can quickly rack up the impulse buy bill.
Ultimately, though, what makes Reading Terminal Market unique is that in its diversity, its chaos and clamor, there is also a unity and a hominess in which everyone feels welcome, like a part of a constantly morphing yet firmly-rooted family. Most shopkeepers are friendly and helpful without being pushy -- though even the brusque vendors, trying to serve you as they finish cutting sides of beef or packaging eggplant parmesan, have a gritty charm that adds to the general buzz of productivity at the Market. At the counter at the Dutch Eating Place, lunching cops, Texan tourists and local businessmen collectively rave about the chicken pot pie. A local woman in line at Metropolitan Bakery asks the fanny-packed couple behind her, "Are you here visiting our city?" and proceeds to help them with directions.
In the middle of one of the many communal seating areas, a large bronze pig named Philbert serves as a collection bank to provide food to needy children. In this and so many other ways, Reading Terminal Market feeds Philadelphia. More than almost anywhere else in the city, it nurtures and perpetuates a collective, communal happiness, a shared pride in the city. People here stop; they smile; they say hello. The concept of "brotherly love" may be a cliche (and an elusive one at that) -- but at Reading Terminal, one has faith that the city can still live up to its founding nickname.
