I’m a born food lover. My most cherished memories revolve around the kitchen: sweating over sauce pots in my grandparents’ kitchen and watching my father crack oysters over a sink. Flakey, briny fish and raisins at Christmas, savory yi mein at birthdays. But for all my ardor for food, I’m a tragic cook.
I’ve bungled chocolate chip cookies and stir fry, and, on one occasion, I was told my instant ramen was inedible. Cooking requires patience, passion, and a bit of natural luck that seems to have missed me in the gene pool. But it also requires time. And what do we Penn students have less of than the free time and space needed to make a good meal?
Cramped kitchens, tightly packed Google Calendars, constant racing from one commitment to the next: Getting all of my friends in one room for a meal can be a tough—if not impossible—task. But whether we’re taking the time to sit down at a restaurant or messing around in the kitchen ourselves, cooking and eating together produce incredible transformations in the people around us.
Jokes get funnier, eyes get warmer, laughs get longer. That special, perfect ability of good food to produce good times and good memories requires deliberate time to be set aside. Our lives are busy, intensely scheduled, and not built around meals. I’d bet that most people on this campus eat more for fuel than for pleasure.
So, in defiance of these campus norms, Street’s issue this month is dedicated to celebrating all the pleasures of a meal and the time needed for them: the time to sit down and eat, the time to cook for yourself or for loved ones, and the time to think and write about food. Writing about food is also writing about a place—and this issue is a love letter to Philadelphia’s increasingly exciting culinary landscape.
Each fall, when this dining guide comes together, it’s a time to reflect on the sustenance we derive from food—yes, the physical sustenance it provides— but also the life it gives to culture and community by providing us a reason to gather. In honor of the communities we cultivate around food cultures, this year’s dining guide is titled “Home Is Where the Hearth Is.” Whether we are remembering family recipes passed down through generations or highlighting the enclave of Ethiopian restaurants in West Philly, this theme aims to capture the indescribable feeling of belonging and comfort that can be derived from the warmth of the hearth.
From profiles on rising restauranteur stars to fresh takes on old classics, our writers searched for the best spots for the Penn student—and then turned around to write about Penn’s own talented student chefs.
And while we’ve been putting together this issue, something the late, great Anthony Bourdain said about cooking for others has been turning over and over in my mind. “It is only right and appropriate,” he muses, “that before one sleeps with someone, one should be able—if called upon to do so—to make them a proper omelet in the morning. Surely, that kind of civility and selflessness would be both good manners and good for the world.”
Reader, if this issue does one thing, I hope it inspires you to take the time and learn to make breakfast—an omelet or not—for the person in your life who’s still around in the morning.
SSSF,
Catherine Sorrentino
Print Editor and Special Issues Editor
