McGillin’s Olde Ale House, the 166-year-old pub in Center City long owned by the same family, has determined that being a matchmaker is a strategic advantage in a crowded industry.
Of course they serve draft beer, Philly cheesesteaks, and wings — but the bar has leaned especially hard into being, in its own description, the place where more couples have met than anywhere else in Philadelphia.
At McGillin’s first reunion for such couples this month, attendees seemed less like regulars at a bar and more like alumni of the same beloved college club, touched by those who came before and rooting for those to follow.
Everyone wore red-and-white name tags with the year their significant McGillin’s romantic event had taken place. The upstairs bar, where couples sat under tinsel hearts and drank from frosted glasses, was warm and close. There was merch; the crowd clapped especially hard for long marriages.
Merch on display at McGillin’s, including a snow globe that says “where it all began.”
It was also a media event: four TV news stations, as well as the Philadelphia Citizen and The Philadelphia Inquirer, came to capture the famous McGillin’s couples. Irene Levy Baker, the bar’s longtime publicist and author of the new book Cheers to McGillin’s, Philly’s Oldest Bar‚ which has its own chapter devoted to “mating magic,” is clearly good at her job.
She is in touch with more than 200 couples who found love at the bar, and McGillin’s has so far filled up four guestbooks of signatures and anecdotes: Met New Year’s Day 2002. Engaged 9/22/12. Met here in 1996 when I was waitressing. Still together in 2024!
“We actually met for the first time one bar stool over. I was eating a grilled cheese sandwich,” said Emily Dowling, 28, sitting beside her husband, Giacomo Trevisan, after a keynote presentation of McGillin’s love stories. Dowling and Trevisan’s name tags were marked 2022.
On the fateful night that year, Dowling was out with a friend and Trevisan was visiting for the first time, having just arrived in the United States on an extended work trip from Italy. Hearing him speaking Italian, Dowling asked what had brought him to town.
“I was impressed that a girl would just start talking to me. In Italy, it doesn’t work like that,” Trevisan, 32, said.
The two got married less than a year later. They closed out the night of their wedding with a drink at McGillin’s.
Irene Levy Baker, McGillin’s longtime publicist, and Chris Mullins Jr., co-owner of the bar, led a toast to couples who met there.
In a world of loneliness and dating app dread, in which people pay matchmakers and make PowerPoint presentations and even take out billboards looking for love, there is a certain nostalgia to the idea that a bar, with salvaged oak tables and framed liquor licenses dating back to1871, is the best place to find it. At some point, the legend probably becomes self-fulfilling.
During an interview, Baker googled “where do couples meet in Philadelphia,” and the AI summary dutifully reported that “couples in Philly meet in classic old spots like McGillin’s Olde Ale House.”
Diane and John Davison, for example, met in 1969: He was a regular, she was a first timer. The downstairs bar was smoky and packed. Patrons passed glasses of beer hand-to-hand above the crowd because no one could reach the bar.
“I remember the first time I saw her face,” John said. “Nice smile.”
“I remember the night,” Diane, 79, said. “John and I don’t exactly agree on some of the details.”
The two have been married for over 50 years, and the bar is an intimate part of their story. John’s brother, who has since passed away, also met his wife at McGillin’s. Just before Christmas, John celebrated his 80th birthday there, and the other diners sang to him.
At right, Diane and John Davison, who met at McGillin’s in 1969.
Both Baker and Christopher Mullins Jr., who co-owns the bar with his parents, have theories about why McGillin’s is a magnet for connection: it’s unpretentious, it’s approachable. The tables are close. The beer obviously helps.
At night it can get packed, but the atmosphere during the day is cozy; a fire crackles in the downstairs grate and patrons order soup for lunch.
“We don’t want to be old-fashioned and forgotten, but we want it to be the same kind of feel that people experienced 50 years ago,” Mullins said.
Kaitlynn and Amanda Capoferri laugh while telling their love story at the bar where they met.
Of course, there are some differences. Kaitlynn Capoferri, 32, mentioned wanting to get wings and beers at McGillin’s — on her Tinder profile. So Amanda Capoferri, 32, asked her on a date to the bar in 2017.
When Amanda proposed at the bar threeyears later, “All I could get out of my mouth after stumbling to pull the ring out of my pocket was, ‘I know how much you love McGillin’s, and I can only hope that you love me as much.’” (They’ve been married for four years).
It’s all part of the lore, carefully curated and growing by the day.
“There is one guy who sometimes comments on the Facebook page and he’ll say, ‘I met my wife there and we’re divorced now,’” Baker said. She wasn’t deterred. “I’m like, ‘Well, I’m glad you found love here once. Be sure to come back.’”
The Kibitz Room in Cherry Hill, which shut down abruptly about two weeks ago after 25 years, has filed for bankruptcy protection, seeking to liquidate its assets.
An attorney for the deli filed paperwork Friday in U.S. Bankruptcy Court in Camden, claiming assets of less than $50,000 and liabilities of $100,001 to $500,000. A hearing on the Chapter 7 petition was scheduled for March 3.
The Kibitz Room, in Holly Ravine Plaza at 100 Springdale Rd. in Cherry Hill, on Feb. 2, 2026.
Social media posts on Jan. 30 noted that the deli, owned by Sandy Parish, had apparently closed without notice.
Meanwhile, former owner Neil Parish — Sandy’s ex-husband — told Patch in an article published Monday morning that he was talking to the landlord about reopening the deli. Their son Brandon commented on a public Facebook post midday Monday that he was working on reopening “under a new entity. Unfortunately the previous ownership was out of my hands but I did run the store for the last nine years until I left to open the other location. … It surely wasn’t from lack of business!!”
Veteran deli operator Russ Cowan opened the Kibitz Room in Holly Ravine Plaza in 2001. Two years later, Neil Parish bought it using their daughter’s bat mitzvah gifts as the down payment. “She got four years at Syracuse, all covered,” Neil Parish said in an interview last year. “It was a good investment.”
After Neil and Sandy Parish split up in 2016, Sandy ran the Kibitz Room with their son Brandon, now 32. Neil moved to the Baltimore area, where heran delis before returning to Philadelphia.
Sandy Parish did not return messages seeking comment, nor did her son.
In an interview last year, Brandon Parish said he had worked at the Cherry Hill deli since he could stand on a milk crate and wash dishes.
“I didn’t want to be in camp,” Parish said. “I didn’t want to be at school. If it wasn’t the lacrosse field, I wanted to be at the shop. It was just the whole environment. The people who worked there were a second family.”
At Shiroi Hana last Thursday at noon, plates, bowls, and ramekins filled the dining room tables. But this was not lunchtime at Center City’s longest-operating Japanese restaurant. It was a tag sale.
Owners Patti and Robert Moon were cleaning out the place in advance of the building’s sale in coming weeks. The kitchen was silent and the sushi bar cleared out.
Shiroi Hana served its last meal in January after 41 years. “It’s sad. Very sad,” said Patti Moon, who with her husband, Robert, took over in 1998. In 2010, the couple also opened Doma, a Japanese-Korean restaurant, at 1822 Callowhill St.
An order of delivery sushi from Shiroi Hana, ordered recently.
The modest Shiroi Hana opened in 1984 at 222 S. 15th St. — across from what was then Bookbinders’ Seafood House — as part of a nationwide group of restaurants owned by Sun Myung Moon and the Unification Church. (Many of the restaurants shared the name “Hana,” meaning flower.)
In the late 1990s, Patti and Robert Moon, in their early 30s, were running Grill Master Deli at 17th and Spruce Streets when they heard that the restaurant was for sale. Given their last name, “for some reason that mattered to [the church],” Patti Moon said. “There were other people trying to buy it, but they gave it to us. We were young. I guess it was luck. It was meant to be.” (Robert Moon said he was not related to the self-proclaimed messiah, who died in 2012.)
Patti and Robert Moon in 2010, at Doma, their BYOB.
The restaurant, modest at first but bearing a quiet elegance after the Moons gave it a 1999 makeover, had a small brush with fame under its original ownership. In 1989, Mick Jagger and Jerry Hall rolled in with a bodyguard and manager, “gobbled about $100 worth of sushi,” signed autographs for the staff, and left a 25% tip, according to a Philadelphia Daily News account.
Shiroi Hana was a favorite among Inquirer critics. Shortly after its ’84 opening, Elaine Tait praised an offering called sushi heaven — “a generously and artistically filled lacquer tray crammed with sushi and sashimi” — and proclaimed it “almost too much of a good thing.” It was priced at $20 (about $61 in today’s dollars).
Patti Moon (left) and Robert Moon with longtime manager Michiko Kadekaru at Shiroi Hana on Feb. 5, 2026.
Last week, critic Craig LaBan said Shiroi Hana “remained a favored hideaway for an intimate lunch until the end, especially beloved by Elizabeth,” his wife. “My kids grew up eating there, and it was always her choice for lunch with a particular friend because the food was great and they knew just how we liked it, down to the tiniest details. She’ll forever miss their chicken katsu bento box.”
Patti Moon said they closed because of shifting trends. Japanese dining has increasingly moved toward chef-owned omakase restaurants, she said, a model that is difficult for non-chef operators to sustain. “For a long time, we were lucky,” she said. “Our head chef, Hiroshi Abe, had been there since 1984. He stayed almost 35 years. When he left about three years ago, people noticed. Business wasn’t the same.”
Manager Michiko Kadekaru looks through mementos from Shiroi Hana with co-owner Robert Moon.
Longtime manager Michiko Kadekaru — who started in 1990 and became, in Robert Moon’s words, “the heart and soul of the restaurant” — has indicated that she would retire, though the Moons hope that she will continue working for them at Doma.
“She started in her 30s and now she’s in her 70s,” Patti Moon said. “She was crying on the last day — and so were we.”
When Jacqueline Spain’s now-grown kids were having a bad day, she would sit them down at the kitchen island and bake them something. Now, she has opened up that kitchen island to her community with her roadside home bakery, Devon Road Made.
“Food is love, love is food,” Spain said, standing in her kitchen recently, bread in the oven and cookies on the counter. “I like to put a lot of heart and soul into it. I feel if you’re going to put good energy into that, people are going to feel that. They’re going to taste it; they’re going to like it.”
Devon Road Made is one of the newer additions to a trend of microbakeries that are cropping up in Chester County, some with roadside carts and stands dotting residential roads in Paoli, Downingtown, West Chester, and elsewhere.
The Devon Road Made bakery cart outside the home of David and Jacqueline Spain for folks passing by to buy some home baked goods in Willistown, Pa., on Friday, Jan. 23, 2026.
Statewide, interest in selling home-baked goods has been growing. Pennsylvania had 361 licensed home bakeries in 2023. That nearly doubled, to 663, in 2025, according to the state agriculture department, which oversees the inspections and licensing of food businesses that operate out of home, rather than commercial, kitchens. There has been a general bakery boom, too, in Philly.
Chester County appears to be a growing incubator of such little bakeries: It had 28 licensed home bakeries in 2025, compared with 16 in 2023, the department said.
Before issuing a license, the department inspects the baker’s food production site.Bakers must verify they have zoning approval to have a business on their property, submit ingredient labels, restrict pets or not have them, and have an approved water supply. It costs $35 to register.
In the few weeks since, Spain, 59, and her husband, David, 60, rolled their bakery cart to the foot of their yard at 60 Devon Rd. in Willistown, the community has indeed seemed to like it. Jacqueline Spain’s cookies and David Spain’s sourdough loaves continually sell out. People knock on their door to ask if things will be restocked. One woman sat at the Spains’ kitchen island, sampling freshly baked cookies, while awaiting her pickup order.
“Everything we make, she has been making for years,” David Spain said. “That’s kind of part of our DNA. It’s got to taste really good — something that we would only serve our friends and family.”
David Spain, of Willistown, Pa., and his wife Jacqueline Spain, chat with Inquirer Reporter Brooke Schultz about their Devon Road Made bakery cart at their home on Friday, Jan. 23, 2026.
And Chester County seems like a place perfectly ripe for these little bakeries to thrive, several home bakers said: It’s not a wholly rural community, nor is it totally Main Line. There is an affluent clientele (Chester is the wealthiest county by median income in the state) with an interest in homemade, quality ingredients.
But they do face some headwinds: A number of municipalities restrict such carts through zoning codes, even if the bakers are licensed to sell.
Alexa Geiser, 28, of Lulu’s Bread & Bakery in West Chester, opened her home bakery in October, originally selling her sourdough first come, first served from her porch. But then the borough told her she was not permitted to sell from her residential porch, and she moved entirely online to sell her bread and the occasional chocolate chip cookie batch.
Though it’s a bummer — she said it was nice to talk with people stopping by for a peaceful hour on Fridays — she felt supported by the community, who offered their businesses for her to host her pickups.
“I think people really value homemade goods that people put a lot of effort into, and good quality ingredients,” she said. “I use all organic flours and filtered water and good salt in my bread, which is something I personally value. It’s what I want to give to my customers as well.”
The Devon Road Made bakery cart outside the home of David and Jacqueline Spain for folks passing by to buy some home baked goods in Willistown, Pa., on Friday, Jan. 23, 2026.
But the stands are a niche the bakers feel they are filling.
“I noticed around here, at least where I live specifically, there aren’t really that many,” said Maddy Dutko, of Maddy Makes. “I’ve seen a couple that sell honey or some that sell flowers, but I haven’t really seen any that sell baked goods. I was like, why not? It’s a way for me to connect with people around here. Maybe bring them something that they didn’t know was necessarily in their community.”
Dutko’s stand, at 623 Sanatoga Rd. in East Coventry Township, is open on the weekends from spring to fall. Dutko sells bread loaves, coffee cakes, cinnamon buns, cookies, and dry mixes for pancakes or cornbread. She tries to keep things fresh and interesting, but also consistent for loyal customers. Dutko, 29, also sells orders online and at markets.
The physical presence has led to customers hiring her to bake for kids’ birthdays, or people approaching her at markets to tell her they always stop by for a treat when they end their walk on a nearby trail.
The Devon Road Made bakery cart outside the home of David and Jacqueline Spain for folks passing by to buy some home baked goods in Willistown, Pa., on Friday, Jan. 23, 2026.
There’s something to be said for products baked with love in someone’s home, Jacqueline Spain said.
On a recent Friday afternoon in Willistown, the Spains stocked the baskets of their cart with baggies of cookies, breads, and dog treats — a customer request that their daughter, a veterinary nurse, fulfilled. A red open flag commenced their weekend hours of “noon-?” People pulled up onto the lawn to shop.
There will be one Tun Tavern opening in Old City, now that a long-running dispute over the name of one of Philadelphia’s most storied colonial landmarks has been resolved.
The settlement of a federal lawsuit, announced late Friday, has cleared the way for the Tun Legacy Foundation — a nonprofit led by Marine veterans and Philadelphia-area organizations whose origins trace back to the original Tun Tavern — to use the full name on its planned historic reproduction on Second Street.
Tun Tavern trademark owner Montgomery Dahm (right) celebrating at his short-lived Philadelphia restaurant on Chestnut Street during a commemoration of the Marines’ 250th anniversary on Nov. 10, 2025.
Dahm told The Inquirer that he would no longer pursue plans to open a Tun Tavern at 207 Chestnut St. — just around the corner from the foundation’s proposed site, which is now a parking lot on Second Street just south of Market.
Last fall, Dahm and partners took over the Chestnut Street building, previously Lucha Cartel restaurant. They opened it as Tun Tavern for a party on Nov. 10 to celebrate the Marine Corps’ 250th anniversary — likely heightening pressure on the nonprofit. Terms of the settlement were made confidential, both parties said.
Tun Tavern history
The legal fight had become an emotional flash point among Marines, history advocates, and preservationists, and the truce removes the remaining obstacle facing the nonprofit’s effort to re-create a site that looms large in both local and national lore.
The original Tun Tavern — whose site is now beneath the southbound lanes of I-95 near Walnut Street — dates to 1686 or 1693, depending on the source, when English traders Samuel and Joshua Carpenter built a tavern at Water Street and Tun Alley along the Delaware River. At the time, Philadelphia rose sharply from the waterfront; taverns, warehouses, and wharves were accessed by stairs leading up to Front Street.
Reenactors line up on Second Street during the Tun Legacy Foundation’s celebration of the Marine Corps’ 250th anniversary on Nov. 10, 2025.
Over the decades, the Tun changed names with its owners and evolved into a gathering place for civic life. In the 1740s, under Thomas Mullan, it was known several nights a week as Peg Mullan’s Beefsteak Club, named for his wife. Located less than a mile from what is now Independence Hall, it became popular with members of the Continental Congress.
Artist Frank Taylor’s drawing of Tun Tavern, created in 1922.
In 1775, the Tun served as the first recruiting station for what became the Marine Corps. That same year, John Adams drafted the Articles of War that helped form the U.S. Navy in one of the tavern’s upstairs rooms. In June 1775, George Washington was honored there at a banquet marking his appointment as commander of the Continental Army.
The tavern also hosted meetings of several colonial-era organizations that still exist today, including the Freemasons; the St. Andrew’s Society; the Society of St. George; and the Friendly Sons and Daughters of St. Patrick. Three of those charitable aid societies — St. Andrew’s, St. Patrick, and St. George — continue their work in Philadelphia more than two centuries later.
The Tun was demolished in 1781. Visitors seeking the tavern today are directed to a historical marker on Front Street near Sansom Walk, several blocks from where the building once stood. Multiple efforts have been made to restore or re-create the tavern as a living piece of history.
Incidentally, no one knows what the original Tun looked like. Artist Frank Taylor, whose 1922 drawing is the top hit in most online searches, was not born until 1846.
Latest effort to revive Tun Tavern
The most recent revival effort gained momentum in 2024, when the foundation purchased a surface parking lot on Second Street between Market and Chestnut Streets for $4.4 million. The foundation announced plans for a three-story reproduction combining a restaurant and museum, with all operating profits earmarked for charitable causes, including veterans’ initiatives and scholarships.
The group had hoped to open in time for the Marines’ 250th anniversary, but that timeline slipped as legal and logistical challenges mounted.
Complicating matters was the trademark. Dahm, who opened Tun Tavern restaurant and brewpub connected to the Atlantic City Convention Center in 1998, owns the trademark through Aljess. A Tun Tavern also operates at the National Museum of the Marine Corps near Quantico, Va.
In April 2024, the nonprofit applied to trademark “The Tun,” the historic name of the original tavern. Two months later, Aljess sued in U.S. District Court, arguing that use of “Tun” would create confusion with the Atlantic City restaurant.
Historical reenactors celebrate at Tun Tavern in Old City on Nov. 10, 2025.
The conflict escalated in September 2025, when Dahm announced plans to convert Lucha Cartel into his second Tun Tavern.
On Nov. 10, as Marines marked the Corps’ anniversary, the dispute played out in public. Thousands of Marines and their families gathered on the foundation’s parking lot site, while several hundred attendees and Revolutionary War reenactors celebrated at the Chestnut Street restaurant, which had been lightly redecorated for the occasion. Dahm closed the restaurant shortly afterward to begin renovations — plans that are now shelved.
“We’re charging the hill together, now that we’re no longer in a lawsuit,” Dahm said Saturday.
A cake was served during the Tun Legacy Foundation’s celebration of the Marine Corps’ 250th anniversary on Nov. 10, 2025.
For the Tun Legacy Foundation, the settlement marks a turning point.
“This lawsuit was the last external obstacle to getting the project done,” said Craig Mills, the foundation’s board chair, a Marine veteran, and executive shareholder at the Center City law firm Buchanan Ingersoll & Rooney.
Mills said the foundation has secured the rights to plans and drawings prepared by architectural firm Ballinger, which he said donated a significant portion of its services. Those plans, he said, are complete and approved, with zoning and permits in place.
With the legal uncertainty resolved, the remaining challenge is financial. Mills said the foundation has raised just under $11 million toward a budget of about $21 million.
Mills said the foundation wanted to raise more before putting shovels into the ground. “We want to have enough reserves to weather the early months,” he said. “Restaurants don’t make much money right out of the gate, so we want to be prudent and break ground confidently.”
Mills said the settlement should help accelerate fundraising. While donations never fully stopped during the lawsuit, he said, some potential supporters were hesitant to commit.
The agreement also resolves the naming question that sat at the heart of the dispute. While the foundation had planned to operate as “The Tun,” Mills said the settlement grants the right to use the full historic name.
“This really could be a great thing for Philadelphia,” Mills said. “Every great historic city has a period pub — Alexandria, Williamsburg, you name it. Philadelphia hasn’t had one since the original Tun closed long ago. It would be meaningful to bring that back and give it to the city again.”
At Manong, chef Chance Anies’ bustling, casual Filipino steakhouse in Francisville, customers are feasting. They’re going all in and ordering 1-pound burgers on puffy, house-baked Hawaiian buns for themselves. (“I love that. Such a bold move,” Anies says.) The charcoal-grilled chicken — a half-chicken marinated in soy, calamansi, lemongrass, annatto, and butter — is selling well, too.
Everybody, it seems, orders a bloom shroom. As Manong is Anies’ homage to Outback Steakhouse, he chose to hold the onion for his crunchy, photo-worthy appetizer — one of Manong’s few vegan offerings.
The kitchen skewers a package of enoki mushrooms at the base to keep them uniform and flat, macerates them in a salt cure for about 20 minutes to get them to sweat, and then dredges them in a mix of cornstarch and ground dehydrated garlic. After a few minutes in the fryer, they get a hit of furikake — nori, brown sugar, chili powder, and dehydrated orange peel. You get a side of what Anies calls “salsa rosada,” a mix of banana ketchup and house-made vegan mayo.
You know what they say: “No rules, just right.” Manong, 1833 Fairmount Ave., 445-223-2141, manongphilly.com
— Michael Klein
The chicken liver mousse at Emmett comes with some awfully convincing mini Eggo waffle dupes.
Chicken liver mousse at Emmett
I giggled when the chicken liver mousse at Emmett was placed in front of me. Six doll-sized, rosewater-scented Eggo-like waffles — but most certainly not actual Eggo waffles — are arranged around a silken quenelle of chicken liver mousse. The dish is both adorable and delicious, the mousse simultaneously light and unctuous, covered in a generous rain of crumbled smoked peanuts. Spheres of concord grape jelly add balance and nasturtium leaves bring a tart freshness. It’s a great interpretation of chicken and waffles, and one I can’t wait to go back in for. Emmett, 161 W. Girard Ave., 215-207-0161, emmettphilly.com
— Kiki Aranita
The octopus at Apricot Stone.
Charred octopus from Apricot Stone
For my 25th birthday, I cracked open a celebratory bottle of Eagles Super Bowl LIX bubbly and tucked into a smorgasbord of Apricot Stone’s shareable plates: crisp pita chips with bowls of nutty muhammara and whipped red pepper-feta dip, flaky cheese boreks, and tabbouleh. The star of the spread, however, were three charred octopus tentacles plated on a bed of lentils with juicy beefsteak tomato slices. The octopus was succulent and meaty, with evenly spaced grill marks that gave it a smoky aftertaste. Combined with the lentils and tomatoes, the dish was bright and transporting: If I closed my eyes, I was feasting on a beach in the Mediterranean, not a table with a clear view of Girard Avenue’s dirty, hardly melted snowdrifts. Apricot Stone, 428 W. Girard Ave., 267-606-6596, apricotstonephilly.com
The Super Bowl is Sunday, so I’ve asked two reporters — one vegetarian, one not — to help solve this dilemma.
Evan Weiss, Deputy Features Editor
The question is…
My friend assigned me to bring wings for our Super Bowl potluck, but I’m a vegetarian. Can I bring tofu wings?
Zoe Greenberg, Life & Culture Reporter
I want to start by saying I’m also a vegetarian, and the idea of tofu wings disturbs me deeply.
Abigail Covington, Life & Culture Reporter
Who asked the vegetarian to make the wings? Vegetarians should make nachos or dips.
Evan Weiss
Yeah, I think this is on the friend who asked. Why would you ask your vegetarian friend to make wings???
Zoe Greenberg
The problem with tofu for this is that the texture and the flavor (nothing) is completely wrong.
But I do love buffalo cauliflower wings. Personally I would say that’s OK to bring.
Abigail Covington
However, if you regularly eat chicken wings, you will be disappointed by cauliflower wings. So, if you can stand to make a batch of both, maybe consider it. The meat-eaters will be very grateful. Not that you owe them anything.
Zoe Greenberg
Ah, true. You don’t have to make the chicken wings from scratch do you?!
That’s a horrifying prospect, too.
Abigail Covington
Just buy them! But is that still asking too much of a vegetarian?
Evan Weiss
Yes!
I’m not a vegetarian, but I can’t imagine asking a vegetarian friend to bring meat! I would never ask a nondrinking friend to bring wine.
Zoe Greenberg
Maybe they truly meant, “Wings, as interpreted by a vegetarian.”
Abigail Covington
I think the vegetarian has every right to assume that’s what they meant. But please, like Zoe said, not tofu.
Food may be what Kalaya’s Chutatip “Nok” Suntaranon is best known for, but her real love is spending time with her Pomeranians, Titi and Gingi, whom she lovingly calls “the boys.”
That, and spending time at her Queen Village home. For former flight attendant Suntaranon, who travels to Thailand (where she was born) two or three times a year, her home is her “happy place.” When she is not traveling, this is where she spends most of her time — cooking, eating, taking meetings, gathering friends, and, of course, playing with the boys and their friend, Wolfie.
She lets her routines be flexible and often goes with the flow, keeping two things constant: time with the boys and a daily visit to her Fishtown restaurant named after her mother.
Those are the two things that define her perfect Philly day, and her everyday.
Kalaya’s chef Chutatip “Nok” Suntaranon poses in Lobo Mau’s exclusive Pom jacket. The acclaimed chef collaborated with local designer Nicole Haddad for the jacket. Styled by Nicole Haddad and Miranda Martel; jewelry by Feast and Forge and Finish; shoes by Elena Brennan; Hair and makeup by Tarah Yoder.
7:30 a.m.
I wake up whenever I want to. If I stay up late, I stay in bed until 10:30 a.m. But usually, I wake up at 7:30. The first thing I do is read [Kalaya’s] Resy reviews from the night before. After that, I wake up the boys and play with them on the deck a little bit. Then I either run back to bed and read my emails with them by my side, or go downstairs.
9 a.m.
I go down to the kitchen and feed the boys. Pomeranians are very picky eaters so I make scrambled eggs for them and me. Then, I’ll either make green tea or coffee with beans from McNulty’s Tea & Coffee Co. in New York’s West Village. Some days, it’s espresso. Others, Americano, or flat white.
I often invite my next door neighbor, Yas, to have coffee with me. We just sit on the couch and chat for an hour. Sometimes more than one neighbor stops by. We have our group of women, we live in the same neighborhood, and we hang out all the time. We get coffee, talk, and sometimes we plan lunch together, and then we spread out and do whatever we need to do for our jobs.
Emily Riddell at the Machine Shop, a bakery, in Philadelphia, Friday, September 9, 2022.
10:30 a.m.
If I don’t drink coffee at home, I love going to Machine Shop with Mike and Lizzy, my good friends who also have a Pomeranian, Wolfie. We coparent our dogs. At Machine Shop, we get coffee and wait for canelé to come out of the oven.
11:30 a.m.
On our way back, the boys and I will take a walk in the neighborhood. We have a community garden that we might stop by. Then I come home and take my morning meetings after I give the boys a turkey tendon treat.
12:30 p.m.
If I can find some time, I go to the gym. I sneak in a Pilates class once a week at Movement Source Pilates Studio in Passyunk or the Sporting Club at the Bellevue. If I need a haircut, I go to Whirligig salon in Queen Village. If I’m not doing any of those things, I will go to Kalaya to check on whatever is going on. I mostly take the boys with me. I leave by 3 p.m. because that’s when they have the staff meal. I come home and fix myself some quick lunch.
The fettucini at Fiore Fine Foods in Philadelphia on Thursday, Aug. 29, 2024.
2:30 p.m.
I prefer to eat at home during the day. Sometimes all my friends who dropped in the morning will come back and we all eat lunch together. I love congee. Usually we will eat that with a simple, healthy vegetable or protein. I also eat lunch at Fiore sometimes because pasta for lunch is a good idea. Then, depending on how busy my calendar is, I will try and sneak a bath in. I love having a bath. Then skincare and getting ready takes about an hour.
4:30 p.m.
I get changed and go back to the restaurant for service. For clothes, I mostly shop online. I rent from Real Real, Rent the Runway, Nuuly. And I have my buyer in Thailand who buys Issey Miyake pieces for me. I get a lot of stuff from Thailand where I have a designer who does custom-made stuff for me. My friend Yas often gets me stuff to wear or my other friend, Michelle, works at Urban Outfitters. It’s a community that is very sweet, because they are always gifting me with very cute stuff to wear.
Chef Jesse Ito prepares a course during the omakase at Royal Sushi and Izakaya on Tuesday, Oct. 28, 2025 in Philadelphia.
7 p.m.
On Tuesdays, I usually eat dinner at Royal Sushi & Izakaya. I love his Royal Chirashi, the miso soup. His fried chicken is good, and I love all of his rolls.
Once or twice a week, I order half the menu at Kalaya. I invite friends and we eat, talk about food and our lives. That’s how I inspect the food in the restaurant, and give the team feedback immediately.
Organic produce from Blooming Glen Farm of Perkasie for sale at the Headhouse Farmers’ Market.
On Sundays, I try to cook dinner and have friends over. I buy my produce and organic protein from Headhouse Farmers Market and Riverwards Produce.
Sometimes, my friends and I do Sunday Gravy. Someone makes dessert, I make gravy. I buy the meatballs because you don’t need to make meatballs yourself as long as your gravy tastes good. Someone makes the pasta, and we all eat together. Michelle may make a salad, and Mike brings a bottle of Champagne. So we hang out and chat.
Chef Chutatip “Nok” Suntaranon at her restaurant Kalaya in Fishtown on August 22, 2024.
8:30 p.m.
If I don’t go to the restaurant, I normally get to bed by 8:30 p.m. I groom the boys, hang out with them, watch Netflix or read as they play next to me. I like to be quiet at home. I am a homebody. I would say, 70% of my time is me staying home. That’s kind of pretty much my day.
Lou Capozzoli, 86, of Southwest Philly, a dive bar owner and band front man with a penchant for telling jokes, died Sunday, Feb. 1, after battling a brief illness at Mercy Fitzgerald Hospital while surrounded by family.
Mr. Capozzoli, born April, 4, 1939, was just one year younger than the bar he would eventually take over at the intersection of East Passyunk Avenue and Federal Street, then called Ray’s after the nickname bestowed on his father, Anthony.
Almost immediately, the bar became the center of Mr. Capozzoli’s life. He grew up in the apartment upstairs and as a toddler would sit quietly on the bar downstairs, eating cornflakes, while his mom poured beers. His dad, meanwhile, would wish every customer a happy birthday, even if it wasn’t theirs to celebrate.
It was a gesture that stuck with Mr. Capozzoli, who would go on to spend the rest of his life doing whatever he could to earn smiles from strangers, whether it meant serving birthday shots of cake-flavored vodka with a candle or performing to crowds as a singer and saxophonist across Las Vegas, the Jersey Shore, and South Philly.
Mr. Capozzoli with a drawing of his father, Anthony “Ray” Capozzoli, who opened Ray’s Happy Birthday Bar in South Philadelphia in 1938. Mr. Capozzoli took over the bar when his father died in 1997.
“That’s all he wanted, for his father to be proud of him,” said Rose Capozzoli,Mr. Capozzoli’s wife.
As a boss, Mr. Capozzoli was “pretty silly,” said bartender T.C. Cole, who also played guitar in Mr. Capozzoli’s band. “He would call you at 1:45 in the morning when you’re trying to close just to tell you a joke.”
The inside of Ray’s Happy Birthday Bar. Mr. Capozzoli was known for calling regulars on the mornings of their birthdays.
If jokes were a currency, Mr. Capozzoli was a billionaire, friends and family said. He’d fire them off incessantly — during closing shifts, band performances, family dinners — and had enough discretion to whisper the most risqué in your ear. Mr. Capozzoli’s style was modeled after that of Buddy Hackett and Rodney Dangerfield, his favorite comedians, but the punch lines didn’t matter as much his delivery.
Mr. Capozzoli “would laugh with the person he was telling the joke to,” his son Anthony Capozzoli, 55, said. “If you weren’t laughing with the punch line, you were laughing at how much he enjoyed getting to it.”
More recently, Anthony said, his father would call him just to workshop material, most of which isn’t fit to print. Mr. Capozzoli’s favorite jokes were set to music in 2023 for a five minute-long comedy track as part of a studio EP for the Rage Band, the seven-piece group that Mr. Cappozoli sang with for 41 years alongside a rotating cast of characters.
Low Cut Connie front man Adam Weiner recorded the EP. He and Mr. Capozzoli grew close after Weiner played a gig at Ray’s in 2012, bonding over their shared love of captivating a crowd.
“Not everyone is about joy when they perform … People care about their ego, people care about fashion,” Weiner said. “But Lou was always about fun, just radiating 100% joy.”
Mr. Capozzoli started performing professionally when he was 14, sneaking into clubs to accompany bands on the alto sax. The stage was a calling that helped him fall in love. It also took him to the edge of celebrity.
After serving in the military in the early 1960s and playing for Sophia Loren as part of an army band, Mr. Capozzoli told jokes and sang standards at the Stardust and Flamingo casinos in Las Vegas. At the peak of his fame, he opened for Diana Ross at the Riptide Club in Wildwood in 1965. That same year Mr. Capozzoli met his wife, Rose, who was charmed by his talents at another Wildwood concert. They wed three years later.
Mr. Capozzoli bonded with Low Cut Connie’s Adam Weiner over their shared love of performing.
Mr. Capozzoli’s steadiest gig began in 1984 with the Rage Band, once the house act for Sea Isle City’s now-shuttered Springfield Inn. There, Mr. Capozzoli settled into his larger-than-life style, commanding a crowd of roughly 1,000 people a night on summer weekends. He’d serenade Burt and Ernie puppets for a medley of Sesame Street songs and show tunes, or don outlandish masks for a Mummers tribute.Both brought down the house, but never as much as when Mr. Capozzoli would cover “Those Were The Days” or ”Sweet Caroline,” which were always punctuated with jokes.
“I call him the showman’s showman,” said Brian Saunders, one of band’s saxophonists. Tony DiMattia, a bassist for the band, concurred: “He didn’t just entertain the crowd. He entertained us as musicians.”
The Rage Band stopped their Sea Isle residency in 1999, only to pick up at new one at Ray’s in 2003, where they have performed on the first Saturday of every month from October through April ever since. The band never rehearsed, DiMattia said. Mr. Capozzoli’s stage presence could smooth over just about any kink.
Mr. Capozzoli played in The Rage Band for 42 years, performing for packed houses at the Springfield Inn in Sea Isle City and Ray’s Happy Birthday Bar.
“There is no Rage Band without Lou,” Saunders said. “He was the glue that kept us together.”
Outside of music, Mr. Capozzoli’s greatest loves were his wife and children. He was a dedicated father who enjoyed cooking large French toast breakfasts, organizing tee ball games, and ensuring the family always had a rescue dog to snuggle. Laughter — and his wife’s minding — kept Mr. Capozzoli going, even as the decades of working in a smoking bar wore on him.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Lou angry,” said Saunders. “I don’t think he’d ever not had a smile on his face.”
Mr. Capozzoli was an accomplished saxophonist who started playing professionally when he was 14 years old.
In addition to his wife, Rose, and son, Anthony, Mr. Capozzoli is survived by his daughters, Dyan Wixted and Luann Capozzoli, and three grandchildren: Louis, Daniel, and Delaney.
Visitation with the family will be held from 6 to 9 p.m. Feb. 6, and from 9:30 to 11 a.m. Feb. 7 at Pennsylvania Burial Company, 1327-31 S. Broad St., Philadelphia, Pa., 19147. Services will follow Saturday at 11 a.m.
My chatty Uber driver was born and raised in South Philly and so, as we threaded our way through the cozy rowhouse blocks east of South Broad Street, he reveled in reciting the personal histories behind every deli, seafood market, corner taproom, and red-gravy pasta joint we passed. But even he seemed to be momentarily flummoxed as we pulled up to Tesiny, on the 700 block of Dickinson Street.
A century-old corner brick building that for much of its life was an auto-repair shop had been completely transformed. Its garage doors were replaced with broad paned windows that glowed amber with the inviting tableau of a bustling restaurant inside. Diners clinked glasses of pink martinis. Chefs were illuminated by the flicker of a live-fire grill in the central open kitchen, where oysters were being shucked at the U-shaped counter, to be dispatched on icy plateaus to date-night duos across the room.
Large seafood plateau with shrimp cocktail, clams ceviche with peach and jalapeño, three types of oysters, scallop crudo with melon water, and bluefin tuna with corn vinaigrette. Sauces are cilantro tarragon aioli and rosé mignonette, at Tesiny.
The long bar near the entrance, deftly lit to illuminate its soigné design touches — the rich walnut wood accents, the purple-and-white tiled floor, the smooth curves of a backbar stocked with uncommon sherries — radiated a magnetic glamour.
“Let me know how it is!” he said, as I exited the Uber. I promised a full report.
In a dynamic old city constantly reinventing itself, we could do far worse than watching an industrial space be reborn as such a lovely restaurant. More specifically, you should be so fortunate to have Lauren Biederman be the one to do it.
The exterior of Tesiny on Wednesday, Jan. 21, 2026 in Philadelphia.The bar at Tesiny on Wednesday, Jan. 21, 2026 in Philadelphia.
Biederman, 30, is a bright talent who knows how to turn her quirky hunches into success. She’s best known as the area’s lox-and-caviar queen, after pursuing a “weird idea that popped into my head while driving” — that what Philly really needed was an old New York-style boutique market for hand-cut smoked salmon, fresh bialys, and brunch boards. In fact, we did. Five years after opening Biederman’s in the Italian Market, she’s now also serving caviar bumps from a kiosk beside the Four Seasons Hotel and about to open another Biederman’s near Rittenhouse Square, where Jewish prepared foods will be sold alongside the smoked fish.
But Biederman was a restaurant person before her retail success. The Vermont native worked at Oloroso, where she found her passion for wine, then got into bartending, working at Zahav and several Schulson Collective restaurants, including Osteria, where she met Devon Reyes-Brannan, 30, now her longtime boyfriend and partner at Tesiny. (The name, pronounced “TESS-iny,” is a reference to her late grandmother’s address in Connecticut. The two shared a love of seafood.)
Co-owners Lauren Biederman and Devon Reyes-Brannan at Tesiny on Wednesday, Jan. 21, 2026 in Philadelphia.
Biederman designed the room and nailed the elegantly sultry mood, with the dark brown ceiling and light floors keeping it cozy while the mellow soundtrack shifts throughout service from Sinatra to Sadé, then to hip-hop beats for the livelier later hours. Good spacing between tables keeps conversation possible.
There’s an admittedly amorphous, on-trend quality to Tesiny — the raw bar, craft cocktails, and a chef’s-counter grill turning out shareable plates that resist easy classification as appetizers or entrees — that could just have easily landed in a buzzier restaurant district like Fishtown or Rittenhouse Square. But there’s an extra pulse of intimacy in finding this polished 50-seat oasis in the heart of residential Dickinson Narrows, a hotly debated neighborhood within a neighborhood just east of East Passyunk. It’s upscale, averaging $80 per person for food and drinks, but already resonating as a destination, with up to 100 diners on busy nights.
The Iberico pork at Tesiny on Wednesday, Jan. 21, 2026 in Philadelphia.Chef Michael Valent works in the open kitchen at Tesiny on Wednesday, Jan. 21, 2026 in Philadelphia.
It succeeds on its posh vibes, but also the skill of its players to strike the right tone, from the well-informed (but never pushy) servers to chef Michael Valent, 36, with whom Biederman worked at Zahav. There’s nary a noodle on his menu — a rarity in this neighborhood.
Valent instead deftly draws on an array of multicultural influences without the food ever feeling overly contrived, largely due to the breadth of his experience, including time in Boston, New Orleans, and Philly (at the French-themed Good King Tavern, Superfolie, and Supérette). One moment you’re savoring a tuna crudo dusted with coconut and aji chile spice. The next you’re savoring a tender grilled Ibérico pork collar with silky pureed squash and smoky collards that recall Valent’s stint in New Orleans working for Donald Link at Cochon. Another favorite, a crispy-skinned branzino fillet over a Basque-style pipérade of Jimmy Nardello peppers, is an inviting jaunt to the Mediterranean.
The branzino at Tesiny on Wednesday, Jan. 21, 2026 in Philadelphia.
The raw bar is always a smart place to start. The trio of ever-rotating East Coast oysters, from Canadian Eel Lakes to Sunken Meadows from Massachusetts, comes with a classic mignonette that benefits from being composed à la minute every time, so the shallots retain their bite (rather than pickle) in the rosé vinegar and still-fragrant fresh-cracked peppercorns. The shrimp cocktail was notably tender and flavorful from a citrus-scented poach. And the crudos were also tasty, although I preferred the juicier early version of the scallop crudo, bathed in jalapeño-spiced honeydew-cucumber water, to the more sparely dressed current setup, with smoked olive oil and Korean chile flakes.
A starter of creamy crab salad laced with chorizo oil conveniently cradled in endive spears was solid, but also perhaps a bit boring in a passed-hors d’oeuvres kind of way. It reflected an occasional finger-food aesthetic here, a propensity to lend familiar favorites extra polish for elevated, no-fuss nibbling; that never, however, came with any culinary shortcuts.
The tidiness impulse is especially clear with Tesiny’s labor-intensive chicken lollipops. Drumsticks of Green Circle chicken are “Frenched” to offer a clean bone handle for the poultry mallets that are double-crisped in rice flour, like Korean fried chicken. Glazed in an orange hot sauce made with Fresno chilies and infused with seafood trim (shrimp shells and scallop “feet”), the lollipops are visually appealing. But for a dish that also wants to evoke Buffalo wings, the sauce’s subtle flavors aren’t quite punchy enough for the maximum impact.
The chicken lollipops at Tesiny are double-fried and glazed in a chile-tomato sauce that’s also infused with seafood trim.The broiled oysters at Tesiny on Wednesday, Jan. 21, 2026 in Philadelphia.
Restraint was not the issue with my favorite seafood starter here: a platter of charbroiled Indian Cove oysters that arrive in a pool of Calabrian chile butter, which requires at least one order of Mighty Bread sourdough to mop up from the shells. Whatever crusts are left over, you can swipe through the silky white bean purée that sits beneath the tender grilled octopus topped with harissa-spiced olives and fennel.
Valent’s winter green salad was also remarkably and unexpectedly delicious, its crunchy Little Gem and frisée greens dressed in a citrusy Champagne vinaigrette balanced by toasted almonds and the nutty Alpine richness of shaved Comté.
The bar at Tesiny on Wednesday, Jan. 21, 2026 in Philadelphia.
What to order from Tesiny’s gorgeous bar to accompany all this food? The well-crafted cocktails, many infused with fortified wines, are the most popular place to start. I especially enjoyed Not a Fender, a briny pink riff on a Gibson martini made with pickled red onions, olive oil-washed gin, and a splash of manzanilla sherry. And Tesiny’s thoughtful nonalcoholic offerings were so appealing that we ordered the blood orange-thyme fizz topped with creamsicle foam — and loved it — after spotting another couple order it across the chef’s counter.
The pink Gibson: Olive-oil washed vodka and gin, pickled red onion brine, manzanilla sherry.The Return of Saturn cocktail and Fizz mocktial at Tesiny on Wednesday, Jan. 21, 2026 in Philadelphia.
To pair with the handful of larger plates clustered at the bottom of the menu, it’s worth exploring the wines, an interest of both Biederman (who’s passed her Level 3 Wine and Spirits Education Trust exam) and Reyes-Brannan, a front-house veteran from Tria and Laser Wolf. Reyes-Brannan is partial to the food-friendly acidity of high-altitude wines from Europe, but he’s also been an enthusiastic ambassador for a Mexican version of nebbiolo from Casa Jipi. Lighter and juicier than Italian iterations, it’s a fine match for the juicy Wagyu culotte steak topped with cornmeal-fried oysters. It works equally well with the earthy grilled mushrooms that came dusted with chimichurri over a plate of warm polenta (recently updated to farro risotto).
The nebbiolo was also a good match for Tesiny’s single best bite: a 5-ounce burger special called the Lil’ Kahuna, made from the trim of bluefin tuna belly and Ibérico pork shoulder. It’s a remarkably meaty patty with a subtle shade of rich tuna on the finish that shows off Valent’s ability to experiment with something new. It’s limited to just eight or so per night, which means it’s worth coming early. The effort also bodes well as Tesiny prepares to grow its menu and take some chances with larger plates for two, perhaps as soon as this spring.
The Lil’ Kahuna burger from Tesiny, a blend of bluefin tuna and Ibérico pork.
Dessert for two here is already a thing. And you’ll likely be dueling spoons for the espresso-chocolate mousse that Valent serves like a sundae topped with a wave of whipped cream, caramel cocoa nibs, and real maraschino cherries. Order a raisiny sweet pour of Pedro Ximénez from the impressive list of fortified wines — another quirky passion of Biederman’s, rooted in her days of studying abroad in Mallorca and her time at Oloroso.
Is Philly ready for a renaissance of Bual Madeira and vintage Kopke Port? If Lauren Biederman has a hunch, I wouldn’t bet against her. Tesiny is more proof she has a vision worth paying attention to.
The Chocolate Coffee Mousse at Tesiny on Wednesday, Jan. 21, 2026 in Philadelphia.
At least 75% of the menu is gluten-free or can be modified.
Drinks: Creative and well-crafted takes on classic cocktails, frequently made with fortified wines, are the main draw. The wine program is deliberate in its focus on oyster-friendly Euro classics (Sardininian vermentino; muscadet), with an appealing collection of sparklers (try Red Tail Ridge from the Finger Lakes). Finish with a pour of vintage port or Madeira from one of the city’s better collections of fortified wines.
The logo on the door at Tesiny on Wednesday, Jan. 21, 2026 in Philadelphia.
