The Best Roast Pork Sandwich

If you want the best roast pork sandwich (bar none and I’ve had them all over the world) you have to go to John’s Roast Pork at the corner of Snyder Ave and Weccacoe Street in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, USA. I was introduced to this place in 1991 by my pal who worked on the river long before I did. He said, “Let’s get some real food.” He wasn’t kiddding. This place is on a wedge of land that used to be the edge of a massive railyard, part of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. This yard served the Port of Philadelphia (and was immediately adjacent to the Pennsylvania Railroad’s Greenwich Yard). The B&O is gone, as is the Pennsy, but John’s remains. Here’s a first look:

Now, don’t get to thinking about Philly Cheesesteaks. I’ll get to them in another post, and yes, John’s makes the absolute best cheesesteak (again, bar none, and I’ve had them all over the world, too, thank you very much). Sticking with the roast pork… you’ll be glad to know that the Bucci family, which owns this place, roasts the pork Italian style. It takes hours. Then, in the morning, they slice it, leave it in pans of the natural juices, and by ten thirty AM, the line starts to form. By eleven or so, a hungry customer has to wait over half an hour. And when the bread runs out, that’s it. Go early or go hungry! Here’s a photo of the beast:

Some of you might be thinking that it doesn’t look like much. First off, that bread is the seeded kind (on the side leaning away) with a strong enough crust to hold in the juices but soft enough to be easy chewing. The bread alone is a masterpiece. Inside you have the roast pork, provolone cheese, and hot peppers. I would have more photos but people in this part of Philadelphia think you’re weird when you take pictures of your food and they’re probably right. I was hungry, too, very hungry. This sandwich stood no chance against that. Anyway, the pork is never dry. Every bite is a flavor explosion without being overpowering. All the subtlety is there. And the thing is so filling, you don’t eat until the next day.

Here’s a photo of Vonda Bucci and I. It was Vonda and her husband John who started this place as a wooden shack that served the railroaders and others in this area back in the 1930’s.

These days Mrs. Bucci works with her son John, Jr., who right now is battling some tough health issues, but he’ll be back. For more than half a century this family has been feeding us and we’re always grateful. Of course, I have pre-paid my open heart surgery that will come sooner or later from eating like this. By the way, that fork in my pocket is to pick up anything that might fall out of the sandwich in the process of demolition. Don’t forget, the best roast pork sandwich in the world is that much better when consumed with an ICE-COLD Coca-Cola.

When next you’re in Philadelphia and you have a hankering for one huge meal, try John’s. Forgot those other places that are famous for various reasons. John’s is the real deal. The New York Times and Gourmet Magazine, among other publications wrote the place up, which is another reason for the huge crowds in the last several years. That aggravates us regulars a little, but we have to make room for the rest of the hungry world. It’s only right. They should not be denied a taste of the best. ENJOY!

Published in: on June 24, 2008 at 9:22 pm  Comments (5)  
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Another Beach

Here’s a look at another beach, this one in Margate, New Jersey, USA. The surf was calm, the weather hot, and plenty of people took advantage of both.

In the distance, you can see the Atlantic City casinos. It’s true, they weren’t built by the winners.

I used to pass by here when I worked aboard tugboats. Using binoculars we would scan the beaches for the prettiest sights. But, we were too far from shore for a decent view. Funny thing is, despite spending six months a year in Aruba, I’m not much of a beach person. A quick dip in the ocean is enough for me.

That said, I’ll never forget the thrill of seeing someone on the beach reading my novel, An Island Away. I wanted to stop by and ask, “Do you like it?” And, “Did you get to the part where….?” That would have been rude and shameless so I left them to their privacy and (hopefully) enjoyment.

Feedback from readers is something I truly appreciate. For the most part, a book is written away from the reader, and yet it is for the reader. If the author doesn’t hear the reader’s commentary, he never knows if he successfully conveyed the messages he set out to. Therefore, don’t hesitate to comment. A book is a dialog between the author and the reader, it just takes place through a different medium.

Published in: on June 24, 2008 at 12:06 pm  Comments (2)  
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Aruba, Way Up Here

This is a shot of Aruba taken from a helicopter. The point of it was to show the new concrete road installed in the area known as San Fuego. I own two small lots there on which I will someday build a couple of houses. No big hurry, nor any great ambition. If you look back through my posts, you’ll find one called Day and Evening. The day shot was taken at ground level from this road.

This photo shows another thing I mentioned in that post, that from a second-floor balcony it is possible to have a view of the sea. Way up here, a place many people in Aruba think is far from everything, is only a few miles (as the crow flies) from the Caribbean. In this area, you’ll find the burrowing owls and plenty of birds. However, they’re skittish. You have to be still and never approach directly or they fly off. I leave them to their own as much as possible. Still, they’re cute as could be and fascinating to watch.

You’ll also note how much undeveloped space there is on the island. To the left of this frame is the Arikok National Park, which takes up more than 25% of the whole island. There are trails through the park on which you can drive to observe the wildlife or hike or ride your mountain bike. There won’t be any development in there, which is good news for the owls.

Now, if I could only talk the Arubans into building some big windmills on the east side of the island, they would be entering a low-emission zone and be able to add eco-tourism destination to their literature. Stay tuned, we’re working on that and more. I wouldn’t mind sitting on my second-floor balcony, looking out at the sea to the west and a row of tall windmills to the east. That’s just about perfect.

Published in: on June 23, 2008 at 8:06 pm  Comments (4)  
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A Friendly Corner

There I was in Madrid, Spain, hankering for my Coca-Cola. I could have taken one from the fridge in my room. The place where I stay knows me well and always provides a fresh stock of my favorite beverage. But that wouldn’t put me in the thrall of the city. I didn’t have to venture very far. Diagonally across the street from my door was this little market.

The people working there might have been straight from central casting. There was a husband and wife team, both about five feet tall and exhibiting that charming helpfulness that makes every visit to the store a joy. It took them two tries to peg me as American. They quickly begged forgiveness for the graffiti on the wall outside their store. I told them it meant nothing to me, that I was in search of an ice-cold Coca-Cola. Still, they were ashamed that someone had defiled their corner. They didn’t want me or any other visitors to get the impression that their neighborhood was full of bad people. I said in my shabby Spanish that this is one of the nicest neighborhoods in all of Madrid. They agreed but shook a fist at some kids who needed a lesson or two. I purchased the Coke, a few small items, and took my leave.

Those shopkeepers are a declining breed, not only in Spain but the world over. They’re the ones who will chat with you, take an interest in the neighborhood, and tell you to ask for their friend, who on their recommendation, will treat you like family at a local restaurant. Patronize them whenever you can. It’s a genuine experience that makes a trip memorable.

As always, ENJOY! Coca-Cola ICE COLD.

Published in: on June 23, 2008 at 10:16 am  Comments (3)  
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