My newest global cheesesteak crush is the Vietnamese banh mi version at Saigon Grace, a sweet fusion cafe on South Street blending Asian and Mexican flavors where I’d already fallen for the intense salt foam Vietnamese coffee. The food has been very good, too, and this recent sandwich special is pretty much exactly the multicultural mashup it sounds like: a griddled hash of flat-iron beef, onions, and melty mozzarella tucked into a delicately crusty Vietnamese roll from South Philly’s Ba Le Bakery along with the classic banh mi fixings of pickled daikon and carrot laces, jalapeño rounds, and crunchy cilantro stems. What ultimately brought this sandwich to the next level, though, was the unexpected flow of golden sauce ladled over top. Was it Whiz? Absolutely not! It was an aromatic Vietnamese curry sauce — a hint sweet and fragrant with star anise — enriched with a creamy kiss of coconut milk that kept the sandwich moist and added an extra layer of nuanced spice to every bite. Saigon Grace Cafe, 1514 South St., 267-423-0081, saigongracecafe.com
— Craig LaBan
Hirame usuzukuri as served at Uchi, 1620 Sansom St.
Hirame usuzukuri at Uchi
This sleek, sumptuous Japanese spot out of Austin planted its flag in Rittenhouse this month. Its dim lighting makes it a date-night must (sushi bar, drinking bar, dining room options) for high-level fish. This hirame usuzukuri off the cool tastings menu was a crudo surprise — so simple, but so complex: its candied quinoa base gives it a quiet crunch and nutty depth that sharpen the pristine flounder’s silkiness. Uchi, 1620 Sansom St.,215-647-7611, uchi.uchirestaurants.com
— Michael Klein
Murasaki sweet potato with yuzu kosho Buffalo sauce, sour cashew cream, and chives at Pietramala.
The Buffalo sauce-covered sweet potato at Pietramala
Lucky me to have a band of friends who were up for sharing the entire menu at Pietramala, Philly’s brightest vegan star, now Michelin-endorsed. On the night I had dinner there, chef-owner Ian Graye was off at the awards ceremony, picking up a Green Star and a Recommended. The meal was no less applause-worthy, starting with the tomato XO sauce-laden focaccia (which Craig LaBan considers one of Philly’s best renditions of tomato pie) and finishing on the chocolate-enrobed peanut mousse bar (which I deeply regret not ordering an individual serving of).
The menu was full of hits, but a predilection for wings perhaps inspired a deep appreciation of the Buffalo sauce-smothered Murasaki sweet potato. The silken, white-fleshed spuds come from Robin Hill Organics in Newtown Square. Pietramala roasts them, smashes them flat, then deep-fries them to order to yield a crispy-creamy slab of potato. It arrives on the plate positively drenched in a velvety Buffalo sauce made with yuzu kosho (a citrusy fermented chili paste), topped with a generous dollop of sour cashew cream and a shower of fresh chives. When our server put the plate down, they let us know it’s not often Pietramala repeats menu items, but this one’s too good to let go. Pietramala, 215-970-9541, pietramalaphl.com
Fairmount will soon get an interpretation of Outback Steakhouse— that is, if the chain restaurant existed in a Filipino alternate universe. Chance Anies’ Manong, a word that means “elder brother” in Ilocano, the Filipino dialect of Anies’ paternal family, opens to the public on December 5.
Anies, the chef-owner behind beloved Bella Vista BYOB Tabachoy, took over the former Tela’s space at 1833 Fairmount Ave. earlier this year. It’s a huge departure from Tabachoy’s minuscule footprint of 985 square feet, and of course, from its origins as a small food truck, which Anies still owns. “Manong’s kitchen is bigger than Tabachoy,” said Anies.
Chef Chance Anies posed for a portrait at Manong on Thursday, Nov. 20, 2025 in Philadelphia.
The dining room, which Anies had entirely renovated, seats over ninety people, including nine at its ample bar, at seats painted school bus yellow. There are globe lamps and custom-built booths, backed by forest green shiplap, and resembling the same leather-esque banquettes of a throwback, middle class steakhouse. There are also booths lining the windows, like in every diner movie that has ever been made. The dining room feels industrial, thanks to its exposed ductwork and concrete floor with veined cracks.
The front-of-house and back-of-house staff numbers around 28 people, unlike the eight, mostly part-timers that run Tabachoy.
Manong is a celebration of Anies’ ‘90s youth. Walk in through its enormous glass doors, above which their offerings are painted in orange cowboy-style font (Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner, Coffee, Bottle Shop), and on your left is a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles arcade game, procured from “an arcade guy in Michigan.” At Manong’s photo shoot for this article, Anies carried around a paper sack filled with Beanie Babies, given to him by his mother-in-law, as he tried to decide where to put them as decorations.
The Bloomin’ Shroom at Manong on Thursday, Nov. 20, 2025 in Philadelphia.
As a riff on Outback’s blooming onion, on Manong’s menu there will be a blooming mushroom, consisting of crispy enoki mushrooms tossed in cornstarch, garlic, and powdered, preserved lemon peel and arranged in a pressed glass frilled dish, mimicking a blooming effect with a ramekin of salsa rosada (a mixture of vegan mayo and housemade banana ketchup) at its center. Their Dynamite Lumpia, stuffed with pork, jalapeños, and mozzarella are enormous crispy parcels, unlike Tabachoy’s small, delicate rolls. “They’re like if a jalapeño popper married a lumpia,” said Anies.
The salad at Manong on Thursday, Nov. 20, 2025 in Philadelphia.
Their house salad will feature a green goddess dressing made with canned bangus, or milkfish, a popular Filipino pantry ingredient. Anies is also making efforts to develop versions of Filipino stalwarts that are less processed, like pulverizing red rice yeast for his tocino, a sweet Filipino cured pork known for its bright red hue, typically synthetic in origin. “It’s crazy how red the red rice yeast is,” he said. “It’s like an all-natural Red 40.”
The squash at Manong on Thursday, Nov. 20, 2025 in Philadelphia.
Their Balong Burger — “Balong” is a term of endearment meaning “my boy” or “my child” in Ilocano and what Anies’ mother calls him — has a bun that echoes the pillowy Filipino loaves called pandesal and fashioned into four conjoined pieces. “The bun is sort of like connected King’s Hawaiian rolls,” said Anies. A half-pound burger patty will be sandwiches between the sliced open buns, with an option to add another patty on. It will be served with housemade banana ketchup and white American cheese. “But not Cooper Sharp. We’re not fancy over here,” said Anies.
To finish your meal, there will be homemade ube ice cream, fudgy in texture, and served in little metal dishes, along with a robust dessert menu of frozen treats like calamansi water ice.
Unlike Tabachoy, Manong has a liquor license. Expect local beers on draft from Love City and Carbon Copy, breweries that Anies developed relationships with after vending with his food truck at them for years. But there will also be Filipino Kasama rum in cocktails and served with a bottle of San Miguel beer as a “Quezon City Wide,” a nod to Anies’ father’s birthplace. Bottles of the Filipino beers San Miguel and Red Horse, an extra-strong lager brewed by San Miguel, will also be available at the bar. “But they don’t export kegs. I guess we could pour the bottles into kegs to have them on draft,” joked Anies.
And also unlike Tabachoy, where diners need to exit the front door, make a right, turn down an alley, and re-enter the building in order to go to the bathroom, Manong’s bathrooms (indeed there are now plural “bathrooms”) are accessed through the main dining room. One is papered with old magazine articles and Applebee’s-themed. The other is Outback-themed. And where did he procure the neon decor for each? “Don’t ask, don’t tell,” he responded.
Manong, to start, will be open Wednesday to Sunday from 5 p.m. to 11 p.m. They will seat guests until 9:30 p.m. as their kitchen will close before the bar does, at 10:30 p.m. Reservations are available on OpenTable.
Restaurant gift cards begin as a thoughtful gesture — a birthday envelope, a holiday token, a “you deserve a night out.” So often, however, they migrate to a junk drawer or coat pocket, resurfacing in a moment of hopeful nostalgia:
“Hey, remember this place?”
But that cool restaurant has become a vape store, a Pilates studio, or a bubble-tea shop with a plastic vine selfie wall accented by the phrase “Let’s Make Pour Decisions.” written in neon.
That $75 that you thought would buy a roasted half chicken and a glass of natural wine from a “carefully curated” list has become a relic of a business that thrived briefly and then disappeared.
If you’re receiving a restaurant gift card this holiday season, there’s one important thing to bear in mind:
Use it. Fast. Not “soon.” Not “when it feels right.” Not after you’ve coordinated three calendars and a celestial alignment. Treat it like arugula, not heirloom jewelry. And if you’re giving one, attach an affectionate nudge: Go immediately.
Gift card horror stories
One-off, independent restaurants — the mainstay of Philadelphia’s mighty restaurant scene — depend on gift card sales. Ben Fileccia, senior vice president with the Pennsylvania Restaurant & Lodging Association, calls restaurant gift cards “one of the best ways to support the local businesses that bring our communities together.” He considers them a “direct investment in the neighborhood restaurants that show up for our schools, charities, and local events. Most restaurants honor every card they sell, and gift cards continue to be a reliable, meaningful way to support the hospitality businesses you love.”
But temper that with the idea that restaurants come and go.
Some restaurants wind down operations and stop selling gift cards months before the shutdown, publicly advising customers to use them promptly. One case in point is Laurel in South Philadelphia this year, which enjoyed a six-month countdown. Just last week, Rocco’s at the Brick shut down without warning during a dispute with the landlord; the owner graciously is refunding outstanding gift cards.
Others are not so ethical. On Christmas Eve 1994, a popular Center City bistro called Odeon was selling gift certificates — they were paper back then. Odeon never reopened after New Year’s and the gift certificates became bookmarks. The rumor was that the reservationist sold them, not knowing that the restaurant was closing.
Buying from a restaurant chain can be safer. But just two months ago, Iron Hill Brewery & Restaurant — a pillar of the region for three decades — shuttered three locations and, two weeks later, closed the remaining 16 and then filed for bankruptcy protection. If you have an Iron Hill gift card, you’re at the very back of the line.
J. Alexander’s, a contemporary steakhouse chain, shut down its King of Prussia location without notice last year. Gift cards can be honored at the closest remaining locations in Clifton, N.J., or Annapolis, Md. Grand Lux Cafe’s Cherry Hill location closed in 2020, directing customers to its King of Prussia location, which closed a year later. If you still have a Grand Lux Cafe card, plan a day trip to Paramus, N.J., or Garden City, N.Y. (Cheesecake Factory owns Grand Lux but does not accept its cards.)
Bertucci’s is slowly, quietly exiting: The suburban locations in Bryn Mawr, Langhorne, Marlton, Mount Laurel, and beyond went dark, leaving only Springfield, Delaware County, and Newark, Del. Houlihan’s vanished from Philadelphia and its suburbs altogether, and Ruby Tuesday has done the same slow fade, retreating from malls and roadside plazas that once seemed permanent.
The numbers
Total gift card spending is expected to reach $29.1 billion, up from $28.6 billion in 2024, according to the National Retail Federation. Consumers plan to purchase between three to four gift cards and expect to spend an average of $171.32 per person. Restaurants remain the most popular gift card type (27%), followed by bank-issued cards (25%), department stores (25%), and coffee shops (20%).
As you might imagine, restaurants do not mind selling cards. By industry estimates, 5% to 15% of restaurant card value is never used — a concept known as “breakage.”
In Pennsylvania, the law prohibits gift cards from expiring in less than two years and bans dormancy fees; after five years without redemption the value is presumed abandoned and may be sent to the state. In New Jersey, the law requires that gift card value remain fully available for at least 24 months and restricts inactivity fees during that period.
What else to do
Universal gift cards, like those issued by Visa and Mastercard, are the safest bet if you want to give something other than cold, hard cash. Although there’s usually an upfront fee with their purchase, they travel with the recipient, not the business. They survive concept changes, closures, disputes, and chef departures. Perhaps give the recipient one of these gift cards with a list of suggested restaurants. (For inspiration, I might suggest including a copy of The Inquirer’s 76 Magazine, our guide to the restaurants that are defining dining in the region, available through The Inquirer’s online store.)
Or consider a donation in your friend’s name to a Philadelphia hunger-relief nonprofit, such as Share Food Program, Sunday Love Project, and People’s Kitchen, which work magic turning even modest gifts into many meals.
Of course, you could skip giving a gift card altogether. Instead, pick a date, make a reservation, and treat the recipient to a meal — and to your company.
Pizzerias crave visibility, but there’s no sign pointing to Apizzeria 888 by Sebastian. It’s a true hole in the wall you’ll likely blow right past while trying to keep up with traffic whizzing along Old York Road in Elkins Park.
Sebastian doesn’t care.
Right now, Sebastian Besiso is working for himself and by himself: 40 pies a night, walk-in or call-in, pickup only, limited menu, and no third-party delivery after he got frustrated with UberEats’ fees one night and smashed the order tablet to bits.
Sebastian Besiso checks the undercarriage of a pizza at Apizzeria 888 by Sebastian.
Besiso has an endgame — and Apizzeria is more of a lab than a pizzeria. He views it as a test ground for something bigger — what he cryptically calls part of a “social media interactive platform that will drive people directly to a restaurant.” It won’t be a delivery service, he said, but will offer the technology to give pizzerias better control over their business.
That would also mean moving beyond Apizzeria’s cramped takeout setting. “I want a real dine-in experience where people can come, sit down, enjoy themselves, eat Roman and Neapolitan pizza, and drink halal beer,” he said. “This current setup is not sustainable long-term.”
“I’m not saying I’m better,” says Sebastian Besiso. “I’m saying this is my style.”
Besiso is the first to say that you may not like his pizza, especially if you prefer more conventional New York or Neapolitan styles, as many of his Elkins Park neighbors seem to. His “Roma” has two kinds of aged cheese, a smear of a slightly sweet tomato basil sauce, and an almost impossibly thin crust that shatters around the edges as you bite in. There is no flop whatsoever. It has the crunchy, cheese-on-the-bottom qualities of Chicago tavern-style, though Besiso slices his pies into conventional eighths, not party squares. Toppings include beef pepperoni and sausage crumbles.
His pizzas are well-done. “People around here will say, ‘You burned my pizza,’” he said. “I tell them, ‘Just take a bite.’”
A pizza just out of the oven at Apizzeria 888 by Sebastian.
His customers — and I am one — take a bite and love it. I’m obsessed.
“I’m not saying I’m better,” Besiso said last week, rolling out a 7-ounce dough ball into a 14-inch round — about half the weight of what’s used in a conventional New York-style pizza of the same size. “I’m saying this is my style.”
That restraint can confuse customers. “They look at a $25 price for a 14-inch pizza and feel cheated,” Besiso said. “They judge by quantity, not quality.”
An experimental pizza crust made by Sebastian Besiso of Apizzeria 888 by Sebastian.
I asked Gregorio Fierro, a local consultant well versed in pizza styles and parlors around the world, to tag along on a visit. “You can easily finish a 14-inch pie and not feel weighed down,” he said, impressed. “It’s not one of those heavy pizzas where you feel stuffed.”
Besiso, 42, started in the pizza business 20 years ago before he went to Drexel for chemical engineering. While building his career, he worked at the Pizza Gourmet, a parlor in Northeast Philadelphia, before buying Brandywine Pizza in Spring Garden with his brother. In 2020, he took over his current location, then called New Venice Pizza, across from Elkins Park Square. During the pandemic, he opened the shop for overnight deliveries. In his idle moments, he began tinkering with hydration, fermentation, yeast, and oven temperature and fell down the pizzaiolo rabbit hole.
Note the thinness of Sebastian Besiso’s Roma pizza at Apizzeria 888 by Sebastian.
After working overseas on an engineering job, he came back and last month rebranded the shop; “888” is a lucky number.
Besiso keeps everything close to the vest: He says he “ages” his dough at least two weeks and uses just a speck of yeast and much lower hydration than other shops. The Roma’s base is a low-moisture mozzarella blend. (“Let’s leave it at that,” he said.) A grated cheese goes on top. “People assume it’s Parmigiano Reggiano, but it’s not,” he said. (Fierro suspects it’s Pecorino Romano.)
Sebastian Besiso pauses at his Apizzeria 888 by Sebastian in Elkins Park.
Besiso’s real talent is his mastery of his 60-year-old Blodgett deck oven. He pulls out each pizza near the end, lets it rest, and then slides it back for the final few seconds. Even that tiny step makes the pizza crunchier. When the pie is done, he sets it on a rack — not a pan — for cutting to preserve even more snap.
Besiso’s cardboard pizza box also plays a role. He hand-punctures each with rows of small holes for ventilation. “Steam is not your friend,” Besiso said. “You close the box, drive 10 or 15 minutes, and the steam ruins everything.”
If you’re not local, the smart move is to call in your order, park in the lot around back, get paper plates, snag a Mexican Coke or a Fanta from the fridge, and enjoy the pizza on the hood of your car. You can take home the pizza and pop it into a hot oven for two minutes, if you must.
Right now, Besiso is developing his own panuozzo — a flat, pizzalike bread — for a line of sandwiches. If you like those, you like them, he said. “And if you don’t, you don’t.”
Apizzeria 888 by Sebastian, 8021 Old York Rd., Elkins Park, 215-635-1200. Hours: 5 to 8 p.m. Tuesday to Thursday, 4:30 to 8:30 p.m. Friday and Saturday.
Sebastian Besiso is seen through the front window at Apizzeria 888 by Sebastian.
Come Dec. 6, Amanda Shulman, chef and creator of the now Michelin-starred Rittenhouse restaurant Her Place Supper Club, knows exactly what she’ll be doing: boxing up hundreds of cookies.
More than three dozen cookie varieties — snickerdoodles, chocolate chips, shortbread, thumbprints, meringues, macaroons, and many more, in 100-cookie batches — will be ferried to Center City that morning. They’ll be brought by bakers and pastry chefs from around the region, all of whom have enlisted to help Shulman pull off what has become an epic holiday fundraiser, Cookies 4 Coats, now in its fourth year.
Shulman and her crack team take over once the cookies have converged. They’ll crank for two hours, putting together a cookie box so big, it will fill the front seat of your car.
“It’s so many cookies,” Shulman said in a recent interview. “It is an irresponsible amount of cookies, and it’s awesome.”
The first edition of Cookies 4 Coats’ annual cookie boxes, which assemble treats from well over two dozen bakers and chefs from around Philly. The fundraiser has only grown since it started in 2022.
If you’ve scored a box in previous years — the reservations for them were snapped up in a matter of hours last December — you know the treasure trove of sweets that lies within.
Last year’s 41-cookie box was full of recipesfrom pop-up bakers and pastry chefs, including several folks behind some of Philly’s most vaunted restaurants, bars, and bakeries: brown butter chocolate chip cookies from Provenance pastry chef Abby Dahan, white chocolate and cranberry oatmeal cookies from Friday Saturday Sunday’s Amanda Rafalski, hazelnut shortbread from Vetri’s Michal Shelkowitz, Italian anise wedding cookies from Laurel chef Nick Elmi, Krispie cornflake marshmallow cookies from New June’s Noelle Blizzard, and Irish shortbread from Meetinghouse chef Drew DiTomo, not to mention Shulman’s own sourdough chocolate chips.
All the proceeds from these coveted cookie boxes are split between Broad Street Love, the radical hospitality-rooted Center City nonprofit, and Sunday Love Project, a Kensington nonprofit that runs a free community grocery store in the Riverwards neighborhood. Last year’s sell-out bake sale generated a $15,000 donation to Sunday Love that funded the purchase of hundreds of coats for local kids, as well as programming (music, art, cooking classes, etc.) for children and families, according to Sunday Love founder Margaux Murphy.
Margaux Murphy, founder of the Sunday Love Project, serves Carlos Gonzalez.
Shulman and Murphy first met in 2021, while Murphy was still running Sunday Love out of the Church of the Holy Trinity at 19th and Walnut, serving 2,000 meals a week to anyone in need. Shulman and the Her Place crew — then in their first year of business — got involved, cooking lunches for kids going to summer camp and dropping off meals to the church.
Her Place was the stage for various pop-up bake sales and charity events in those pandemic-era years. In 2022, the idea came to Shulman for an extra-special one: “Everybody loves a holiday cookie box.” Why not assemble a citywide assortment and donate to Philly charities?
She put out an open call to bakers to pitch in and got tremendous response. She shared an online spreadsheet for the participants to see who planned to bake what, so that there wouldn’t be too many repeats. To add to the box’s value, they included a recipe book so that buyers could recreate their favorites at home.
Her Place Supper Club chef Amanda Shulman rings the bell at the Sixers game Wednesday, Nov. 19, 2025, in Philadelphia
Shulman estimates 32 bakers contributed to the first Cookies 4 Coats box, raising thousands of dollars.Ever the one to see things through, Shulman didn’t leave much work for Murphy to do after collecting the cash.
“The first year, I [sold the boxes] a little earlier and I bought [the coats] all myself on Black Friday and had them all shipped to my house, so I had hundreds of coats in my apartment,” Shulman laughs, recalling the charity-induced splurge. “I needed to get different designs. I had to be sure there was something for everybody, so I went a little crazy. I had never racked up a credit card like that, and it was so exhilarating.”
Things are different these days, and Shulman says that’s for the best. “Now we just write checks, because they need other things besides coats — and [Murphy] gets to pick out what she needs as opposed to me just going on a shopping spree.”
One of Cookies 4 Coats’ annual cookie boxes, which assemble treats from well over a dozen bakers and chefs from around Philly.
Reservations for this year’s cookie box went live earlier this month and sold out in a matter of days. Shulman lowered the total number of boxes sold from 120 to 100, but the fundraiser is set to generate even more this year, because the price — $135 per box — increased to cover the cost of improved packaging: Each cookie will be individually wrapped this year, so buyers know which cookie is which rather than guessing based on flavor profiles and recipe cards (a fun game in itself).
Thirty-three bakers and chefs are signed up to contribute thus far, including Scampi’s Liz Grothe (cappuccino Rice Krispies treat), New June’s Blizzard (salted double chocolate chip shortbread), Amy’s Pastelillos’ Amaryllis Rivera-Nassar (besitos de coco), and Lost Bread’s Dallas King (honey butter corn cookies). (For those who don’t have a Cookies 4 Coats reservation, we offer eight of Shulman’s favorite recipes from last year’s box as a consolation.)
Murphy is perpetually floored by the size of the donation, and by Shulman’s seemingly bottomless reservoir of generosity. Murphy’s had strangers give thousands of dollars to Sunday Love, only to discover it was because Shulman recommended the nonprofit to a customer or acquaintance. Shulman recently collaborated with the Philly-area meal-delivery service Home Appetit, sending a portion of the sales to Sunday Love; it resulted in an $8,000 donation.
“I always tell her, she waves a magic wand and she’s just like, ‘Here’s $10,000, feed all the children,’” Murphy said. She remembers a very pregnant Shulman coming to last year’s annual coat giveaway (which will take place this year on Dec. 13 at 3206 Kensington Ave.). “She was in my store because she wanted to see the kids getting coats — I was like, ‘I swear to God, if you have this baby right here on my floor’ — that’s how hard she was working just to make sure that we had everything.”
The Her Place team from left to right: Chef de Cuisine Ana Caballero, Line Cook Lauren Fiorini, Pastry Chef Jazzmen Underwood, Sous Chef Santina Renzi, Prep Cook Denia Victoriano, and Chef/Owner Amanda Shulman posed for a group photo at Her Place Supper Club on Tuesday, Nov. 26, 2024 in Philadelphia. Her Place is located at 1740 Sansom Street in Center City.
Shulman remembers that day a little differently, singling out a moment where she watched a little girl pick out a coat — “this brand-new, shiny pink coat that she got to pick out,” she said. “It’s full circle when you get to do every single part of the process, from the physical picking of the cookies to packing them to printing the things. I’m very grateful to everybody who helps out, and especially to my own team, because it’s a lot of work to make it this seamless.”
That’s what Shulman comes away with when reflecting on what goes into this crumb-flecked effort: gratitude.
“If I can say thanks to my team … and to the community, that would be awesome. Thank you to all the bakers and restaurant people who give so much in the busiest time,” she said. “These bakers take time to not only make [the cookies], but then get it to us. It sounds like an easy lift — it’s not, especially if you’re going to work that day. I don’t take it for granted at all.”
Editor’s note: An earlier version of this story stated that 100% of the Cookies 4 Coats proceeds go to Sunday Love Project. It is split 50/50 between Sunday Love and Broad Street Love.
These cookies were among chef Amanda Shulman’s favorites of the 40-plus entries included in last year’s Cookies 4 Coats box, which Shulman coordinates and sells every year with the help of more than two dozen contributors, with 100% proceeds split between the Sunday Love Project and Broad Street Love. The recipes, sourced from Philly kitchen pros, have been lightly edited for clarity but not tested.
Note: While some recipes call for cups and teaspoons, several of them call for grams (one generous contributor includes both). Most baking professionals measure ingredients by weight, using a digital scale to ensure accuracy; not only does it result in more accurate measurements, it also saves time and cleanup. If you want to convert from one measurement to another, you can find a very helpful equivalencies chart online at King Arthur Flour’s website. — Jenn Ladd
The Parmesan Cornbread Cookies made by Inquirer reporter Jenn Ladd in Philadelphia, on Friday, Nov. 14, 2025.
Parmesan cornbread cookies
Recipe by Ashley Huston, Dreamworld Bakes
Makes 45 cookies
This fun recipe from Ashley Huston, the baked-good mastermind behind Kensington’s Dreamworld Bakes, yields soft, chewy cookies, and a lot of them. You can easily halve the ingredients below for more modest batch, but they’re so good (and freeze well) that you’re better off making it as written.
Cornmeal gives cookies the faintest grainy texture — in the best way — and a big dose of honey lets you inform their flavor with your favorite type, be it clover, wildflower, or buckwheat. Top the cookie dough rounds with as much grated fresh Parmigiano Reggiano (or sprinkle the nicest pre-grated parm you have) and cracked black pepper as you like; if you sprinkle it on before you chill the cookies, it’ll hold up better upon baking for a more visually interesting cookie.
525 grams all-purpose flour
350 grams cornmeal
12 grams salt
6 grams cornstarch
6 grams baking powder
3 grams baking soda
450 grams (4 sticks) butter, softened
400 grams white sugar
200 grams honey
110 grams egg (2 eggs), room temperature
Parmesan cheese, freshly grated, to taste
Black pepper, freshly milled, to taste
Heat the oven to 350°F. Sift together the flour, cornmeal, salt, cornstarch, baking powder, and baking soda. Set aside.
In a stand mixer with the paddle attachment, cream the sugar and butter together until light and fully incorporated. Add the eggs and honey, then beat until blended.
Gradually add the dry ingredients to the mixer, beating until combined. Do not overmix.
Scoop out 1.5-ounce portions of dough onto onto a lined sheet pan, form discs, top with Parmesan and pepper. Refrigerate for 15 minutes.
Bake for 9 to 11 minutes, until set.
Mighty Bread’s Italian almond cookie.
Italian almond cookie
Recipe by Christopher DiPiazza and Siobhan McKenna, Mighty Bread Co.
Makes 20 large cookies
This crowd-pleasing cookie — which is giant, a characteristic of all things Mighty Bread — was inspired by the quintessential sprinkle cookies found in virtually every South Philly Italian bakery. Head pastry chef Siobhan McKenna says Mighty Bread swaps orange-vanilla sugar for sprinkles to make it “a bit more elevated.” But we won’t tell if you cover your cookie dough in rainbow sprinkles (or, you know, jimmies).
750 grams all-purpose flour
10 grams baking powder
3 grams baking soda
8 grams salt
450 grams butter
110 grams cream cheese
500 grams granulated sugar, plus 200 grams for coating
16 grams vanilla paste
100 grams eggs
4 grams almond extract
Finely grated zest from an orange
Vanilla bean, split
Combine the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Set aside.
In a stand mixer with the paddle attachment, cream the butter, cream cheese, vanilla paste, and sugar until pale and doubled in size. Scrape down bowl and paddle.
Add the eggs in two increments, beating until fully incorporated. Add the almond extract and scrape down the bowl and paddle. Add the dry ingredients in several increments until incorporated. Transfer the dough to another bowl or container, cover, and chill for 45 minutes to an hour.
While the cookies chill, scrape the vanilla bean seeds into the remaining 200 grams sugar. Add the orange zest. Rub together to combine thoroughly.
Scoop the dough into balls (100 grams each for a Mighty Bread-sized cookie). Dip each cookie in the orange-vanilla sugar before placing on a lined sheet pan, spacing appropriately, six to a half-sheet pan.
Bake at 350°F for 14 to 16 minutes, rotating after 6 and 12 minutes and checking for another 2 to 4 minutes, until edges are set and center is cooked but soft.
Hazelnut shortbread made by Vetri Cucina’s Michal Shelkowitz.
Hazelnut shortbread
Recipe by Michal Shelkowitz, Vetri Cucina
Makes 24 cookies
There’s not much backstory to these simple (but delicious) cookies, says pastry chef Michal Shelkowitz. “I just love shortbread! They’re the only cookies I allow to be crispy,” she says, adding “maybe a hot take, but crispy chocolate chip cookies make me want to die inside.”
100 grams hazelnuts
275 grams all-purpose flour, divided
½ teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt
250 grams butter, room temperature, cubed
70 grams powdered sugar
60 grams egg yolks
Heat the oven to 350°F. Spread the hazelnuts on a baking tray, toast in the oven for 5 to 8 minutes, until golden and fragrant. Allow to cool completely. Once cool, place hazelnuts in a food processor along with half of the flour and grind to a fine powder. Add the hazelnut mixture to the remaining flour, then mix in the baking powder and salt. Set aside.
In a stand mixer with the paddle attachment, cream the butter and powdered sugar for a few minutes until butter is light in color and fluffy. Scrape the bowl down well, then add the egg yolks. Mix until completely incorporated. Scrape down once more, then add all of the dry ingredients. Mix on low speed until all of the flour has been absorbed and a soft dough forms.
Transfer the dough to a piece of parchment paper. Press down to even it out, place another piece of parchment on top, and roll out the dough to about ½-inch thickness. At this point you can either cut the dough into 3-inch squares or use similar-sized cookie cutters. Transfer the sheet of dough onto a tray and chill in the refrigerator until firm.
Once firm, use an offset spatula to transfer the cookies to a lined baking tray, placing them about 1 inch apart. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes, until the edges turn golden brown. Let cool on the sheet tray before removing.
Roasty Toasty Kinako cookies made by Linna Li of Aidomi Cafe
Roasty toasty kinako cookies
Recipe by Linna Li, Aidomi Cafe
Makes 12 cookies
This project cookie comes from Chester Springs native Linna Li, a veteran of New York’s restaurant industry who now owns Mama Wong in Exton and is searching for a home for Aidomi Cafe, a forthcoming all-day spot with a menu that will blend Li’s Chinese background with the Honduran roots of her partner, chef Jose Nunez. That cultural combo informs these cookies: They get crunch from a brittle made with cancha, or toasted corn nuts, and warm, nutty flavor from kinako, or roasted soybean flour. Those ingredients are widely available in Latin and Asian supermarkets, respectively. (You can also sub a store-bought brittle or toffee if you like; see note below.) Optional buckwheat flour plus masa harina and cornmeal add further complexity, which is what Li’s all about.
“Anytime I create like a cookie recipe,” she says, “I’m really focused on flavor — something that’s not too saccharine, has a little bit of a more salty component to it — but also something that’s pretty interesting in texture.”
Note: If substituting the canchita brittle with store-bought brittle or toffee, reduce the brittle weight from 120 grams to 90 grams.
120 grams (1 cup) buckwheat flour or AP flour or any gluten free flour
60 grams (½ cup, plus 1 tablespoon) masa harina
48 grams (⅓ cup) finely ground cornmeal
30 grams (4 tablespoons) kinako powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon kosher salt
226 grams (2 sticks) unsalted butter, softened
75 grams (⅓ cup) granulated sugar
100 grams (½ cup, packed) dark brown sugar
1 tablespoon vanilla paste or vanilla extract
1 large egg, room temperature
120 grams (1 heaping cup) canchita brittle, chopped into pea-sized pieces, plus more for garnish
Flaky sea salt
For the canchita brittle
Line a sheet pan with parchment paper and set aside. In a pan over medium heat, combine the oil, cancha corn, and 1 teaspoon of the salt, stirring occasionally to get even coloring. After a few minutes, the kernels will start to pop; you can partially cover the pan so the kernels don’t pop out. Stir until the canchitas are golden brown and have a nice crispy bite, about 10 minutes. Transfer to a bowl and set aside.
Combine the sugar, butter, and water in a saucepan, preferably with a light-colored bottom. Warm the mixture over medium heat until it melts and begins to bubble, swirling the pan occasionally. Cook the butter, swirling often, until it is golden and the milk solids are dark caramel-colored (with a temperature of 300°F), 6 to 8 minutes.
Once the mixture is golden, thick, and bubbly, fold in the canchitas, stirring until evenly coated. Add the baking soda and the remaining salt. Turn off heat and stir until baking soda is completely dissolved. Spread the mixture over the lined baking sheet and spread to a single layer. Let cool completely before chopping into shards.
For the cookie
Stir together the buckwheat flour, masa harina, cornmeal, kinako powder, baking soda, and salt in a medium bowl and set aside.
In a stand mixer with the paddle attachment, beat the butter, sugar, and dark brown sugar on medium speed for about 5 minutes, until the mixture is smooth and fluffy, scraping down the bowl and paddle as needed. Drizzle in the egg and vanilla, beating until the egg is fully incorporated, about 1 minute.
Add the flour mixture in small batches, reserving a few tablespoons, and mix on low speed for about 30 seconds until the flour is almost combined, with few visible flour streaks. Stop the mixer and scrape down the bowl and paddle.
Combine the reserved flour with the canchita brittle, evenly coating each piece with flour. Add half to the dough, folding it in by hand. Once folded, pour in the remaining half and scrape the bowl from bottom up to release any ingredients that may be stuck.
Using an ice cream scoop or your hands, portion out cookies to 70 grams and place on a lined sheet pan, making sure they are close but not touching. Cover the baking sheet with plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight or up to 24 hours to allow the dough to rest.
When ready to bake, heat the oven to 350°F. Transfer portioned dough to another lined sheet pan, leaving about 2 inches between each cookie. Top each cookie with a small piece of canchita brittle pressed down into the dough.
Bake for 15 to 17 minutes. You want the cookies to be slightly underdone. They will feel soft to the touch but will firm up as they cool.
While the cookies are still warm, tap the center of each with a spatula to create an indent. Top each with flaky salt and shape with a 4-inch cookie cutter (they will spread so shaping while warm is crucial). Cool completely before transferring to a wire rack. Cookies can stay at room temperature in an airtight container for up to one week. Unbaked dough can stay frozen for up to one month.
Brandon Parish’s black & white cookie, from the Kibitz Room.
Black & white cookie
Recipe by Brandon Parish, the Kibitz Room
Makes 12 to 14 cookies
Brandon Parish’s spin on this classic deli treat uses an ultra-moist muffin batter for the cookie, yielding a fluffy, not-too-sweet base for the black-and-white icing. If you want to recreate a Kibitz Room dessert at home, try serving a hot black-and-white cookie with powdered sugar, sprinkles, and a scoop of ice cream or gelato.
For the cookies
1⅔ cups all-purpose flour
⅔ teaspoon baking soda
⅔ teaspoon salt
½ cup buttermilk
⅔ teaspoon vanilla
½ cup unsalted butter, softened
⅔ cup sugar
1⅓ large egg
For the icing
2 cups confectioners’ sugar
1⅓ tablespoons clear corn syrup
2⅔ teaspoons lemon juice
⅓ teaspoon vanilla
1⅓ tablespoons water (roughly)
⅓ cup cocoa powder
Heat the oven to 375°F if using a conventional oven or 350°F if using convection. In a small bowl, sift together the flour, baking soda, and salt. In a separate bowl or measuring cup, mix together the buttermilk and vanilla.
In a stand mixer with the paddle attachment or with an electric mixer, beat butter and white sugar together in a large mixing bowl with an electric mixer until it’s evenly distributed, about 3 minutes. Add the egg and beat until blended.
Alternating with each addition, gradually add the dry ingredients ½ cup at a time, incorporating the buttermilk mixture between each addition. Mix until smooth, occasionally scraping down the sides of the bowl.
Spoon ¼ cup portions of batter onto a lined sheet pan. Bake for 15 to 17 minutes, or until the tops are golden brown and spring back when touched. Place on a cooling rack and allow to cool completely before icing.
In a large bowl, stir together the confectioners’ sugar, corn syrup, lemon juice, vanilla, and ½ tablespoon of water until smooth. Place half of the mixture into a separate bowl and add the cocoa powder, and remaining water bit by bit until it is the same consistency as the white icing. If the icing is too runny, whisk in more confectioners’ sugar until smooth and spreadable.
Turn cooled cookies flat side up. Using a pastry spatula or a butter knife, spread on the icing, white over one half, chocolate over the other. Let set.
The brutti ma buoni cookies made by Inquirer reporter Jenn Ladd in Philadelphia, on Friday, Nov. 14, 2025.
Brutti ma buoni (ugly but good)
Recipe by Justine MacNeil, Fiore
Makes 18 cookies
These chewy-crunchy meringue cookies use a slightly unusual cooking process — there aren’t too many stovetop cookies — that will fill your kitchen with the sweet smell of toasted hazelnuts and caramelizing sugar. “All the classic Italian recipes are quite bizarre,” says Justine MacNeil, the reining pastry queen (and co-owner) of Fiore, who is delighted by this nutty cinnamon-spiced cookie. “They’re my fave.”
250 grams hazelnuts
250 grams granulated sugar, divided
90 grams egg whites
125 grams sugar
½ teaspoon kosher salt
¼ teaspoon vanilla extract
⅛ teaspoon ground cinnamon
Toast the hazelnuts at 350°F until golden brown, 12 to 15 minutes. Let cool. Reduce the oven to 275°F (convection) or 300°F (conventional). Line a sheet pan with parchment or Silpat.
In a food processor, grind the hazelnuts and 125 grams of the sugar into small pebble-like pieces. Be careful not to overgrind and turn the mixture into nut butter. Set aside.
In a stand mixer with the whisk attachment, whip the egg whites on high speed. Once they are opaque, slowly stream in the remaining 125 grams of sugar and whip until thick and shiny, about 5 minutes. Fold the hazelnuts into the egg white mixture. Fold in the salt, vanilla, and cinnamon.
Transfer the mixture to a 4-quart pot or saucepan. Cook over medium-low heat, stirring often, until the mixture thickens and begins to gain a caramelized color, 8 to 10 minutes.
Scoop immediately onto the lined sheet pan using either a 2-tablespoon scoop or two spoons. (They are supposed to be irregularly shaped.)
Bake for 20 to 25 minutes, until dried and lightly golden. Allow to cool and then store in an airtight container for up to one month.
The limoncello cookies made by Inquirer reporter Jenn Ladd in Philadelphia, on Friday, Nov. 14, 2025.
Limoncello cookies
Recipe by Aurora Samsel
Makes 5 dozen cookies
Try a nub of this cookie dough raw and you’ll get the bite of raw olive oil and the tang of fresh lemon juice and limoncello. But these three-bite cookies bake up into mild lemony treats that are absolutely kid-friendly. They come courtesy of pastry chef Aurora Samsel, who developed them while working at Osteria. Samsel characterizes this as a basic dough with some Italian spins (including semolina flour). She likes to bake the cookies so they come out a very light golden brown, but it’s OK if you take them a shade darker around the edges. “They taste delicious either way,” she says.
2 cups all-purpose flour
⅔ cup semolina flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon kosher salt
½ cup (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
2 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 cup granulated sugar, plus more for rolling
1 large egg
1 large egg yolk
Freshly grated zest and squeezed juice of 1 lemon
2 tablespoons limoncello
½ teaspoon pure vanilla extract
Heat the oven to 325°F. Line a sheet pan with parchment or Silpat and spray with oil.
Sift together the flour, semolina, baking powder, baking soda, and salt and put it aside.
Using an electric mixer with a paddle attachment, cream together the butter, olive oil, and 1 cup of the sugar.
Scrape the bowl, then with the mixer on, slowly add the egg and egg yolk. Scrape again, then add the lemon zest, lemon juice, limoncello, and vanilla extract.
Once combined, add the dry mixture, and continue to mix until all combined. The dough will be soft and sticky. Place the dough in the fridge and chill for 1 hour (or longer).
When ready to bake, place some sugar in a small bowl. Scoop the ball into 15-gram portions, rolling each to a 1-inch ball. Roll in the sugar, then place on the prepared pan.
Bake for 12 to 14 minutes, rotating the pan halfway through, until the cookies are a pale golden brown and set. When out of the oven, transfer the cookies onto a wire rack to let cool completely.
Mocha snickerdoodles made by Jessica La Torre of High Street Bakery.
Mocha snickerdoodles
Recipe by Jessica LaTorre, High Street Philadelphia and the Bread Room
Makes 30 cookies
Buy a bunch of butter for these snickerdoodles, which call for browning 2 pounds of it and combining some of that with regular salted butter, too. High Street bakery production manager Jessica LaTorre notes that these cookies came about as a result of tinkering with the restaurant’s cornmeal snickerdoodle, and that it’s a crispy-crunchy variation of the cinnamon-coated classic. “Don’t expect much chewiness,” she says. “If you are looking for a bit more of a classic snickerdoodle chew you can swap in up to half brown sugar for the granulated.” A stickler for detail, LaTorre also suggests using fine or medium-grind cornmeal and erring on the side of underbaking.
For the cookies:
230 grams brown butter (see below), room temperature
230 grams salted butter, softened
600 grams granulated sugar
15 grams espresso powder or finely ground coffee
400 grams all-purpose flour
300 grams cornmeal
14 grams cream of tartar
12 grams baking soda
5 grams kosher salt (Diamond Crystal)
100 grams (2) eggs, room temperature
100 grams dark chocolate, finely chopped
For the dusting sugar:
100 grams granulated sugar
10 grams cinnamon, ground
20 grams espresso powder or finely ground coffee
5 grams cocoa powder
For the glaze (optional):
130 grams confectioners sugar
16 grams milk
20 grams light corn syrup
2 grams kosher salt
For the brown butter: Cube 8 sticks (2 pounds) of unsalted butter. Cook in a medium pot over medium heat, allowing it to foam and bubble. Stir frequently until the butter and milk solids at the bottom turn a golden brown. Cool to room temperature. You’ll have extra. Save for another project (like Amanda Shulman’s brown butter sourdough chocolate chip cookies).
For the cookies: In a stand mixer fitted with the paddle attachment, cream both butters, the sugar, and the espresso powder until light and fluffy. In a separate bowl, whisk together the flour, cornmeal, cream of tartar, baking soda, and salt.
Scrape the bowl and paddle with a spatula. Mixing on low speed, add the eggs in one at a time. Scrape again. Add in the dry ingredients and mix on low until just combined. Fold the finely chopped chocolate into the dough.
Using a 2-ounce scoop or two spoons, scoop the dough onto a lined and greased cookie sheet and then chill in the fridge for at least an hour.
Heat the oven to 350°F. Mix the sugar and spices together and roll your cookies in it. Space them 6 to a cookie sheet and bake for about 8 minutes, until the cookies have completely puffed. Tap the tray on a counter to gently deflate the cookies.
For the glaze: Whisk all the ingredients together. Transfer to a piping bag and drizzle over cooled cookies. Allow to dry before stacking.
Over the course of three days, I met with 13 congressional legislators or their staffers, spoke to representatives of the U.S. Department of Agriculture and the White House, as well as fellow farmers, to discuss a very real threat impacting our nation: the instability of our food system.
Across the United States, food system organizations — from regenerative farms and gleaning networks, to food access nonprofits and community grocers — are all under immense pressure because of federal funding cuts, rising tariffs, and labor shortages. The entire food chain is strained, and the effects are compounding.
Recently, during the government shutdown, families across the country were not receiving SNAP benefits. American farms and families are still struggling and need relief now.
Farmers suffer even as food prices rise
While food prices continue to rise, farmers make less than 16 cents on every food dollar spent, according to the National Farmers Union. Even worse, there has been a severe labor shortage because of outdated agricultural workforce policies, while large corporate farms are making record profits.
Suicide among farmers is at an all-time high, and the sixth highest among all occupational groups. As the largest Black food grower in Pennsylvania, I am seeing these challenges each and every day.
In addition to the impact this will have on our children and our most vulnerable communities, the killing of this program is having a direct impact on small and first-generation farmers like me. My produce farm lost upwards of $150,000 between contracts with local food banks that were supported by the LFPA Program and the loss of the Agriculture Department’s Climate Smart Partnerships.
These drastic cuts have strained our operations and have impacted our ability to promptly pay our workers and ensure our communities have access to food that is not only locally and regeneratively grown, but also 100% chemical-free.
Food anchors social drivers
At the heart of this challenge is a simple truth: Food is the anchor to all social drivers of health. When food is unstable, so is health, education, safety, economic opportunity, and environmental well-being.
This is evident in North Philadelphia’s Kensington neighborhood, which is plagued by an opioid epidemic, crime, food apartheid, and nutrition insecurity.
A corner store in Philadelphia’s Kensington neighborhood. Such stores should be part of the local food system, writes Christa Barfield.
According to a 2019 report released by the city of Philadelphia and Drexel University’s Dornsife School of Public Health, Upper Kensington ranked last out of 46 Philadelphia neighborhoods in terms of health factors and health outcomes.
Addressing food access through a regenerative and localized lens is not just a response — it is a long-term strategy for national security.
In my September conversations with members of Congress, it became abundantly clear that an updated Farm Bill would not be passed into law by the Sept. 30 deadline. And it wasn’t.
Due to this failure to prioritize the needs of small family farmers, we must now turn inward and rely on our communities to design and implement a scalable, regionally coordinated food system.
This is possible by supporting local farmers and workers through fair, reliable markets, reducing food waste via efficient, community-based recovery, and empowering neighborhoods with increased food sovereignty and local ownership.
I founded FarmerJawn Agriculture seven years ago, and I know that for a community or nation to be healthy, it must be well-fed. Food is medicine. Good food means good health.
Despite the challenges we face, this idea is more relevant now than ever. I am eager to launch CornerJawn, a farm-to-store operation that will reimagine the corner store as a preventative healthcare hub.
CornerJawn will increase access to fresh and nutrient-dense food that is both convenient and affordable through a dignified pricing model.
It will enhance urban living for the strategically forgotten communities that are now seeing record development in hopes of creating, what? Wealth? True wealth is measured in longer lives with beautified communities and healthier families.
We must treat food like medicine, invest in those specialty farms that feed us, and watch our country thrive.
Remember: Agriculture is the Culture.
Christa Barfield, a.k.a. FarmerJawn, is a healthcare professional turned regenerative farmer, an entrepreneur, an advocate for food justice, and a James Beard Award winner. As the founder of FarmerJawn Agriculture, she manages 128 acres across three counties in Pennsylvania, making her the largest Black food grower in the state.
Campbell’s Co. said on Wednesday that a vice president reportedly caught on an audio recording disparaging the Camden-based soup giant’s products — claiming the company uses bioengineered meat, which Campbell’s denies — and allegedly making racist comments is no longer an employee.
The allegations emerged after Robert Garza, another former employee, filed a lawsuit last week claiming that he was fired for reporting in January to his manager that Martin Bally, who had a position at Campbell’s as chief information security officer, had made problematic comments to him during a meeting in November 2024.
According to the five-page lawsuit, Bally “made several racist comments about Indian workers at the company.”
Bally also told Garza that Campbell’s products were highly processed food for “poor people,” according to the lawsuit, which was filed in Michigan, where both Garza and Bally live and worked for the company.
Garza, who worked as a cybersecurity analyst for Campbell’s, did an interview last week with WDIV-TV, an NBC affiliate in Detroit, and provided at least some portions of secretly recorded audio of the meeting to the station for broadcast.
The audio recording is not mentioned in the lawsuit. However, it is legal in Michigan for one party in a conversation to make a recording without the consent of the other party.
The person in the recording, alleged to be Bally, says: “We have s— for f— poor people.” The speaker then acknowledges rarely buying Campbell’s products, saying they are unhealthy.
The voice says that Campbell’s uses “bioengineered meat. I don’t wanna eat a piece of chicken that came from a 3D printer.” The speaker then goes on to make racist comments about coworkers.
“After a review, we believe the voice on the recording is in fact Martin Bally,” Campbell’s Co. said in a statement on Wednesday.
“The comments were vulgar, offensive and false, and we apologize for the hurt they have caused. This behavior does not reflect our values and the culture of our company, and we will not tolerate that kind of language under any circumstances,” the company said.
“As of November 25, Mr. Bally is no longer employed by the company,” Campbell’s said.
Bally could not be reached for comment on Wednesday.
Campbell’s said in its statement that the company makes food from high-quality ingredients, including real chicken meat.
“We’re thankful for the millions of people who buy and enjoy our products and we’re honored by the trust they put in us,” the company said.
Campbell’s has a new page on its website to answer questions about its food that were raised by the former vice president’s alleged comments.
One section responds to the question: “Is Campbell’s chicken 3D printed?”
“No. We do not use 3D-printed chicken, lab-grown chicken, or any form of artificial or bioengineered meat in our soups,” the website said.
On Monday morning, James Uthmeier, the attorney general of Florida, responded to a post on X from an account apparently based in Ohio raising concerns about “FAKE MEAT that comes from a 3-D printer.”
Uthmeier said: “Florida law bans lab-grown meat. Our Consumer Protection division is launching an investigation and will demand answers from Campbell’s.”
In the early ’90s, Colleen Mazzella walked into a newly opened pizzeria and met the man who would become not only her boss, but her husband.
She was visiting a friend who had been hired at Italian Affair in Stafford, and owner Dominick Mazzella, then a recent Staten Island transplant, offered her a job, too.
They soon became a couple, and a year later, in May 1995, opened A Slice of Heaven across from Fantasty Island Amusement Park on Long Beach Island. The building at 7th Street and Bay Avenue in Beach Haven had housed a car wash, candy store and photo shop through the years, and when the two met with owner Peter Buterick, “he said ‘I’m going to take a chance on you. I’ve got a good feeling about this,’” Mazzella said.
They made a name for themslves, thanks to a menu of dishes like stuffed cheesesteak pizza, scratch-made meatballs and cheesesteaks.
Thirty years later, the building is full of memories that became precious to Mazzella after Dominick died just days before his 50th birthday in 2024. She recalls the Stanley Cup being brought to the restaurant (“My husband was a gigantic hockey fan,” she said), staying open to serve pizza until 4 a.m. and borrowing ingredients from other restaurant owners to get through busy days.
Dominick Mazzella is pictured behind the counter of A Slice of Heaven, the Long Beach Island pizzeria he opened with his wife, Colleen, in 1995.
She remembers when a family who lost their father stopped in for his favorite pizza before spreading his ashes on the beach, rebuilding after Superstorm Sandy sent four feet of water into the dining room and making pizza by flashlight during a power outage.
The restaurant is also where Dominick taught his son to make pizza, a legacy the 18-year-old — also named Dominick — has dreamed of continuing.
But it will have to happen somewhere else, as A Slice of Heaven closed earlier this month. The Mazzellas leased their restaurant space and the building has been sold.
“The plan was to take this place over,” Mazzella said of her and her husband’s plans for their son, a third-generation pizza maker whose grandfather emigrated from Naples, Italy, and owned restaurants in New York before opening the Stafford pizzeria with Dom.
A Slice of Heaven’s last day in business was Nov. 17, and Mazzella must vacate the building by the end of the month. She has been searching for a new location since learning of the impending sale several years ago, and while she wants to keep the restaurant on Long Beach Island, rentals that will work for her business are hard to come by, she said.
“My intention is to be on the island,” said Mazzella, who grew up in Brant Beach and now lives in Cedar Run on the mainland. “I love the people here. I grew up here. I love everything about it.”
“It’s just a fact of finding a place to land,” she said. “It’s been tough. I just have to keep believing that the places that I found that didn’t work out didn’t work out for a reason, and that it’s because we’re waiting for the right place.”
“We’ll find something,” she said. “I gotta believe that.”
Since announcing the closing date in early November, Mazzella has seen an outpouring of support online and in person, with customers sharing memories and well wishes.
One spoke of how the elder Dominick fulfilled her request to spell “It’s a boy!” in pepperoni on a pizza for her gender reveal. Another customer wrote of how the restaurant’s delivery driver checked on her elderly father when she couldn’t reach him. Dozens more said A Slice of Heaven’s pizza is part of their vacation tradition.
For Mazzella, it is stories like these that make giving up not an option.
In his prime, Steve Sillman worked nights, Thursday through Monday.
And he was usually late coming in, despite only a 10-minute walk separating the front door of his impeccably preserved Fox Chase twin and the double red doors of Joseph’s Pizza Parlor.
The dayside managers would be tapping the toes of their dark work shoes, and Mr. Sillman would just glide in. He’d start turning radio dials in search of disco hits or a 1970s station, resetting the vibe with work-appropriate dancing to classic hits from Carole King and James Taylor. He’d remind anyone listening that he wanted disco played at his funeral.
And at the end of the night, hours after the other staff members had gone home, he’d pour himself a glass of red wine and close out the register, and then he’d call a few of the staffers and leave a message. He’d tell them to call back: “It’s important.” And when they called back, he’d say they missed a spot sweeping.
“You work with people so long,” said current Joseph’s co-owner Matt Yeck, “that you become like family.”
For the better part of four decades, and until the 70-year-old received a terminal brain cancer diagnosis earlier this year, Mr. Sillman was the face of the neighborhood’s trademark pizza place.
He started working there shortly after graduating from Northeast High School in the 1970s, and floated among the pizza parlor, neighboring Italian restaurant Moonstruck, and the once-wild Ciao nightclub above it.
He’d often speak of waiting on entertainment icon Elizabeth Taylor. (He would say he got lost in her transfixing blue eyes.) Over the course of those 40ish years, he became intimately familiar with the building’s quirks, and attended to its every need, from fixing broken faucets to decorating it for Christmas.
At the front of the house, he was the manager who would chat up customers before their order was ready. They always remembered his name, and sometimes he’d have to pretend to know theirs. In the back of the house, he was a peacekeeper, confidant, psychiatrist, dance partner, friend, and brother.
It was Mr. Sillman who raised an entire generation of neighborhood kids who came to Joseph’s for work. He watched them grow up, and then he folded them into his restaurant family.
He met his best friend of 40 years, Jane Readinger, through her siblings. They worked with Mr. Sillman at the restaurant, and over the years they folded him into their wider familial unit.
“A lot of his friendships came through that building,” said Jane, who is eight years younger. “And he had those friendships for life.”
It started with “P.L.P.’s,” or parking lot parties, after Joseph’s closed for the night. It grew into group ski trips and shared shore houses.
As his friendsstarted getting married and having kids and growing up, Mr. Sillman, a lifelong bachelor, bought a Sea Isle house so they all had a place to stay.
But it was the twin on the corner of Jeanes Street and Solly Avenue that was his legacy. His grandparents built the house in 1914, and only his family — three generations — had called it home. He maintained its original layout and finishes and flourishes from the turn of the 20th century.
The home was a marvel at Christmas, as Mr. Sillman would decorate his and the adjoining twin together. Draping them in handmade ribbons, and bestowing showstopper wreaths made of fresh fruit.
After he was diagnosed in the spring with glioblastoma, members of that restaurant family would stop and see him on Jeanes Street, even as Mr. Sillman could no longer climb the three flights of stairs, and after he transitioned from the recliner to a bed setup in the dining room.
Even the new owners came. Yeck and his partner, Jimmy Lyons, awkwardly inherited Mr. Sillman when they bought Joseph’s in 2021. But it didn’t take long for both to see his indistillable value.
“Steve came with the building,” Yeck said.
As Mr. Sillman took his last breaths on the morning of Sunday, Nov. 23, with Jane cradling his head in her arms, Carole King’s 1971 classic played through the house:“You’ve Got a Friend.”
The outpouring of support in person and on social media was a nice reminder to Jane that people don’t need to be blood to be family. There’s family you’re born with, and then there’s family you collect along the way.
“He was never alone during this fight,” Jane said. As a registered nurse, she volunteered to help attend to Mr. Sillman as he entered hospice care at home.
Mr. Sillman is survived by his sister-in-law, Harriet Sillman; nieces and nephews; great nieces and nephews; and generations of former co-workers. His neighbors are planning to decorate the twin Jeanes Street houses in his absence this holiday season.
Services for Mr. Sillman will be held Saturday, Nov. 29, at the Wetzel and Son Funeral Home, 419 Huntingdon Pike in Rockledge. The viewing will be held from 8 to 10 a.m., followed by a funeral ceremony.
And then his extended family will honor Mr. Sillman’s wishes with an appropriate send-off: They’re throwing a disco party.
Donations in his name may be made to the American Cancer Society, Box 970, Fort Washington, Pa. 19034, or to the Alex’s Lemonade Stand Foundation, 333 E. Lancaster Ave., Suite 414, Wynnewood, Pa. 19096.
