Last Thursday, I spent the day at Philadelphia’s Reading Terminal Market, the old train depot turned food hall that’s been a destination for eating and shopping since 1893. I was in my hometown to teach a cooking class, and excited to be back at my old stomping grounds. As a kid, I would go shopping there on Saturdays with my mom, as did she with her mom when she was a young girl. These days, whenever I am back to visit, the Reading Terminal is one of my favorite destinations.

Many cities have food halls, but this one is strictly Philadelphian. I’d never seen a national chain store there, but on this trip I learned why: the Terminal is a non-profit and it goes against their charter to house anything besides local businesses. This means the market is protected from the anonymous character that has overtaken so many food halls that were once unique and reflective of their region, but have since been populated by fast-food joints where most food served is prepared far away in a centralized plant. Happily, this is not the case at the Terminal.

Hungry after the 2-hour ride from New York, I pulled James, my fiancé, into the action. First, we headed for the Amish section. Pennsylvania Dutch farmers have long held sway over a large area of the market, where the Dutch Eating Place diner sells Pennsylvania favorites like scrapple and creamed chipped beef to a loyal throng. At other stalls, women in diaphanous bonnets make tender soft pretzels with crisp, salty exteriors, and men with overalls and beards sell everything from fresh poultry to pickles to fudge. When he first saw them, James, a native Bostonian, asked if these people were in costume. Not having grown up there, he didn’t know that the Amish are an everyday part of Philly’s landscape.

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Surrounded by wonderful smells and tempting sights, we needed to make a decision on where to eat. We ambled past a soul food vendor, tarried at a Mexican joint, were tempted by Italian hoagies, and finally settled on deli food, as in matzoh ball soup, potato latkes, and a pastrami sandwich. Hershel’s East Side did not disappoint. They were the best latkes I’ve had in recent memory, not simply re-heated but made before my eyes. The soup warmed us to our toes, and James was in ecstasy over the pastrami. While we ate, we took in some Hank Williams and Kris Kristofferson, performed by a guitar and fiddle duo. There is live music at the Terminal every day, and I found out that most of the musicians are retired volunteers who are quite protective of their shifts.

After lunch, we got some strong coffee at Old City Coffee. They didn’t decorate the froth on my latte with leaves or a heart, as is the norm in Brooklyn, but it was just as delicious. We visited a vendor who sells only cookbooks, known as the Cookbook Stall, because I love looking at cookbooks, and I wanted to see if mine was for sale. When I asked the owner about Lucid Food, she said they’d just sold out of it. Good answer!

Later, at the little cooking school inside the Terminal called La Cucina At the Market, I taught a class to an inquisitive bunch of women, two of whom had never tasted a pomegranate, and had never liked cilantro until they had it in the Cucumber Pomegranate Salad that we made. I felt lucky to give these women their first taste of a new flavor, even in the midst of a market where any and every ingredient seemed available. By the time class was over, the market was dark. I was sad I didn’t get the chance to take in one more meal there. I guess that Amish-made rotisserie chicken we heard so much about will have to wait until my next visit.

Louisa’s first cookbook is on sale now!  Get your copy of  Lucid Food: Cooking for an Eco-Conscious Life, a collection of healthy, eco-conscious recipes, tips, and entertaining ideas.

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