It’s been a year of extraordinary new burgers in Philadelphia, from the McDonald’s Money, the over-the-top double stack of luxury flourishes at Honeysuckle inspired by an Eddie Murphy stand-up routine, to the dessert cheeseburger with raw onions and blue cheese served alongside a chocolate sundae at Roxanne, to Ian Graye’s next-level vegan bean and smoked mushroom burger at Pietramala. Now seafood lovers can rejoice because the Lil’ Kahuna has made the scene at Tesiny, Lauren Biederman’s stylish new oyster bar in the Dickinson Narrows neighborhood of South Philly.
Perhaps you’ve had a tuna burger before. This is not one of those typically fishy hockey pucks. That’s because executive chef Michael Valent blends the richness of high-quality bluefin tuna belly with hand-minced Iberico pork shoulder, which lends both a fatty savor to the mix, as well as a meaty crumble that lets the patty take on the caramelized sear of a backyard burger over the restaurant’s charcoal grill. Set in a pillowy soft sweet potato bun from Mighty Bread with shredded lettuce, melted American cheese, and a special mayo blended with apricots and serrano chilies, the burger is so meaty, you’d be hard-pressed to guess that it wasn’t beef.
It is absolutely that savory, but also a touch lighter on the palate, with an almost fruity character from the tuna that swims up to make itself known, in the best way possible, on the finish of each bite. It’s a smart use of trim from two standard items on Tesiny’s menu — a bluefin crudo and a fantastic pork chop — which explains why it’s a nightly special limited to 8 to 12 burgers a night. I predict it’s going to become so popular, though, that Lil’ Kahuna fans may rally for it to become a fixture on its own. Tesiny, 719 Dickinson St., 267-467-4343, tesiny.com
— Craig LaBan
The chicken cutlet at Wine Dive, 1534 Sansom St.
Chicken cutlet at Wine Dive
If you call your bar a “dive bar,” is it really a dive bar? Especially if the beers, wines, and cocktails are playfully irreverent and unpretentiously sophisticated? Probably not. But the new Wine Dive, in a former nail salon off 16th and Sansom in Rittenhouse, is a fun, boisterous hangout nonetheless, with a tongue-in-cheek attitude and a killer menu that’s many, many levels above the dirty-water hot dog/reheated pizza level at a typical dive.
Chef Scotty Jesberger goes for hearty comfort with his shrimp Lejon, roast beef sandwich, loaded baked potato, but my go-to is an almost impossibly crispy chicken cutlet for the low, low price of $10, served with what they call antipást. It’s a punchy, old-country mix of whole cherry peppers in hot oil, sliced banana peppers, capers, fresh sliced garlic and granulated garlic, slivers of roasted red peppers, whole green olives, specks of cauliflower and artichoke heart, all bound together with olive oil and cherry pepper brine and artichoke water. Everything is designed for late-night eating; the kitchen stays open until 1 a.m.
Chef Shadee Simmons’ Olive Oil cake is drizzled with delectably sweet raspberry and blueberry compote with a light dusting of powdered sugar.
Olive oil cake from chef Shadee Simmons
While fashioning a ceramic vessel at Duafe Natural Hair Salon’s “A Lump of Clay,” event on a recent Friday evening, I snacked on mini crab cakes, oxtail sliders, and a bit of beet salad courtesy of Chef Shadee Simmons, the man behind Khyber Pass Pub’s New Orleans-style menu. (You can try his food on the regular at the Old City bar.)
As I prayed the walls of what I hoped would be a sage burner didn’t collapse, dessert was served. All of a sudden, my poor clay-making skills stopped mattering. The culinary highlight of the evening was upon me: The olive oil cake reminded me of fluffy, not-too-sweet cornbread. The sweet blueberry-raspberry compote drizzle was the perfect consistency. And the cake was covered with a flurry’s worth of powdered sugar — a taste of fall and winter in one bite. Chef Shadee Simmons, Foodheadz Philly, foodheadz20@gmail.com, instagram.com/chefshadee. Dessert available on request.
Philly now has the second-highest package-theft rate in the country, reported the Citizen. According to a USPS Inspector General report, we lost $450 million in deliveries last year, which is a staggering amount of missing moisturizer, dog treats, and whatever-impulse-purchase-you-didn’t-need-anyway.
The stories are peak Philly: Thieves in fake Amazon vests dragging trash cans down Northern Liberties like a pack of Grinches, neighbors negotiating with porch pirates over stolen head-and-neck massagers, and whole blocks swapping Ring footage like they’re running a CSI unit. And still, hardly anyone reports it — because calling 911 over a missing package feels unhinged, and most people assume nothing will happen.
Police say they can’t crack down because no one files reports. Prosecutors won’t release data. Delivery companies quietly eat the losses to keep customers from rioting. And the state’s shiny new anti-porch piracy law can’t do much when the entire system for tracking thefts amounts to a collective shrug.
For now, the only real accountability is getting roasted on someone’s community Facebook group.
Herr’s previous campaign had customers voting on these three chip options.
Solid choices, sure. But if you asked Philly what those ideas actually taste like in 2025, it definitely wouldn’t be “cheesy crab dip.” It’d be stuff like:
Freedom: Tastes like finding a parking spot on the first try, crossing the Walt Whitman without traffic, or walking out of Wawa and realizing your hoagie was marked as a Shorti but they accidentally made you a Classic.
Liberty: Tastes like SEPTA showing up early and empty, getting a roofer to text you back the same day, or a neighbor finally taking the parking cone inside because the snow melted… three weeks ago.
Unity: Tastes like a whole block yelling “Go Birds!” at the same stranger, the collective rage of everyone on I-76 when a phantom jam clears, or 20 people on your street stepping outside at once because they all heard the same weird bang.
Voting runs through Dec. 10, and whatever wins hits shelves in June for the city’s 250th birthday party. Silly? Extremely. But honestly, if Philly wants to turn civic values into snack-seasoning discourse, that feels about right.
McCormick recruiting New Yorkers — C
Sen. Dave McCormick put out the world’s most Pennsylvania campaign commercial this week, inviting New Yorkers terrified of their new mayor — and “tired of losing football teams” — to pack up and head west on I-80. And look, we get the appeal. New York is expensive, the Giants and Jets are tragic, and Pennsylvania can brag about producing at least one functioning football franchise at any given time.
But if he’s talking about Philly? Dave… babe… have you seen this place lately? We’re full. Try finding a parking spot in Fishtown after 6 p.m. Or a house in the suburbs that doesn’t get 12 offers in 24 hours. Even our potholes are standing shoulder-to-shoulder. Also, telling New Yorkers to “come on down” because Pennsylvania has mountains and freedom is a bold pitch when most of them can’t even merge onto the Schuylkill without bursting into tears.
So if folks really want to take him up on this offer, maybe start by checking out Pittsburgh. Lovely city. Plenty of room. Great bridges.
Exterior entrance to Netflix House, King of Prussia Mall, Tuesday, November 11, 2025.
Netflix House — B-
Netflix House finally opened in King of Prussia — because nothing says “immersive fantasy world” like the mall you swore you’d never drive to again. And look, the place is legitimately impressive: Squid Game VR that feels a little too real, a Wednesday carnival, a One Piece escape-room adventure, and photo ops for days.
But here’s the plot twist: the price. Doing all four experiences at the cheapest rate runs $118 a person before taxes. That’s nearly $500 for a family of four. For that kind of money, the golden piggy bank in Squid Game better not be just a prop.
Credit where it’s due: the VR slaps, the staff is Disney-level committed, and superfans will eat it up. But between the Schuylkill, the prices, and the mall chaos, Netflix House might be best for people who already love the shows.
The Sixers released their city edition jerseys.
Sixers City Edition jerseys — C-
The Sixers’ new City Edition jerseys dropped, and the reaction across Philly has been one collective shrug. Navy blue, gold stripe down the side shaped like the Liberty Bell crack, “Philadelphia” in script — all perfectly fine if your goal is to make something no one could possibly argue about. Which, ironically, is the most un-Philadelphia idea imaginable.
Let’s be honest: This jersey didn’t stand a chance. Not in the year of the AI throwbacks — those black 2001 uniforms walked into the room and immediately made everything else look like background décor. The City Edition is basically the jersey equivalent of a supportive friend holding everyone’s coat.
Reddit nailed it. People called them: “Mid.” “It’s just the 2019 one but navy.” “Should’ve said Philly.” “I like them… but I’ll wait until they’re $39.99 in June.” And my personal favorite: “This feels like Nike forgot about us until the last minute.”
Wearing them only three times feels right. This is a jersey designed to quietly exist. Inoffensive. Reasonable. Mildly attractive. Something you nod at and say, “Yeah, that’s nice,” before immediately remembering you’re only here for the throwbacks.
These aren’t bad. They’re just beige-but-navy — the basketball equivalent of choosing a sensible sedan when everyone knows you really wanted the sports car.
The basement goldfish at the Navy Yard have respawned — and Philly has reacted with the kind of unhinged civic joy usually reserved for Gritty sightings. A year after their murky little pond dried up, the fish have returned, proving once again that in this city, nature not only heals… it adapts to runoff water and becomes indestructible.
Reddit went feral: “Philly’s koi pond.” “Koi jawn.” “Nature is healing.” “This needs to be a protected landmark before it’s turned into condos.” And the best lore drop: “Behind that door is a kingdom… nay, a WORLD of basement fish.”
There are paintings now. Fan art. People offering to dump in buckets of water like it’s a community service project. Someone even called them the “unofficial city mascot,” which feels about right — unexpected, slightly alarming, surviving on vibes and stormwater alone. This is the kind of hyperlocal nonsense that unites the city more than any mayor ever has.
How to pronounce “Camac” — B+
Only in Philly could a three-block alley spark a full-blown identity crisis. Someone on Reddit innocently asked how to pronounce Camac — “K’mack? Kay-mick? Kay-mack?” — and within minutes, the city did what it always does: turned a vocabulary question into a referendum on our collective sanity.
The consensus (if you can even call it that) is “kuh-MACK.” But this being Philadelphia, you also get k’MACK, Kuh-MAK, Cum-ACK, and at least one person who decided all the letters are silent, which honestly feels spiritually correct.
Then, naturally, the thread devolved into arguments about other names no one can agree on — Bouvier, Sepviva, Greenwich — because this city will never miss an opportunity to question its own language like it’s a group project we all forgot to do.
It’s extremely on-brand, and reminiscent of The Inquirer’s big Passyunk investigation — the one where lifelong South Philadelphians confidently pronounced it four different ways in the same grocery store aisle. After 400 years, even linguists basically shrugged and said: “Multiple answers are correct, good luck out there.”
So yes, the “right” way to say Camac is probably kuh-MACK. But this is Philly. Pronounce it however you want — someone will correct you, someone else will correct them, and eventually the whole block will be involved.
Inquirer reporter Tom Fitzgerald has become Philly’s most unlikely breakout star — by calmly explaining the absolute chaos of SEPTA and Greyhound. His latest video on the city’s bus terminal and the PPA had people lining up to be “president of the Tom fan club,” begging for “another Tom vid, expeditiously,” and declaring, “Idk what it is about this guy, but I’d trust him with my life.”
And this wasn’t a one-off — the first “what the f— happened to SEPTA” video is where the cult really formed. That comment section was essentially a love letter: “Tom is the GOAT,” “protect this man at all costs,” “cordially inviting this guy to my family Thanksgiving,” and my personal favorite: “I like this guy, would get a French dip with him.” Philly affection comes in many forms, but that might be the purest.
What’s wild is how united everyone is about him. It’s rare for any city to agree on anything — let alone a soft-spoken transit reporter explaining budget failures and bus equity. But Tom did it. He looked into the camera, delivered the grim truth with perfect dad-energy calm, and the entire region collectively said: King.
Quiara Alegría Hudes grew up on the little street of South Saint Bernard near West Philly’s Baltimore Avenue, but her family spanned the city and its borders. As a child, she shuttled between her home and her mother’s extended Puerto Rican family in North Philly, while regularly visiting her father’s white, Jewish family on the Main Line.
Her writing is often rooted in Philly, though it spans borders and mediums, too. She cowrote the Tony-award winning musicalIn The Heights with Lin-Manuel Miranda, and won a Pulitzer in 2012 for her play Water by the Spoonful. Her 2021 memoir, My Broken Language, told the story of growing up in West Philadelphia and being the first in her family to attend college, at Yale.
Now Hudes, 48, is experimenting once again with a new form: her debut novel, The White Hot, is out this month. It’s a fever dream fantasy about a young mother from North Philadelphia escaping her predetermined life — and her child — in order to reckon with the “white hot” rage that sometimes consumes her and the women in her family. It’s a gem of a book, poetic and propulsive at the same time.
“Was my leaving a seed that might bear fruit?” April, the main character, wonders. “The possibility cracked open like a slitted envelope, that fleeing the stovetop and laundry machine could big-bang a new universe.”
Here’s how Hudes, who now lives in New York City, would spend a perfect Philly day.
Quiara Alegría Hudes (center) with her cousin and daughter at the top of the Art Museum steps on Christmas morning. The family started the tradition in 2020.
7 a.m.
It starts on Christmas morning. Our across-the-street neighbors, Tracy and Charlie, bring over their pound cake.
The main event of the morning is that we head over to the Art Museum steps. The city’s empty, you can double-park on the street.
We climb up to the top of the steps in our pajamas and just hang. It’s magical and sleepy. The city has that wintery, cold air, blue-silver look to it. You’re looking through your crystallized breath.
9 a.m.
We walk through Center City to Sam’s Morning Glory Diner. (We’re definitely doing some time travel: Now it’s a more temperate fall day.)
Of course, this is all on foot because, no shade, in my experience SEPTA just doesn’t come. This is how I became a reader as a kid, because I had to do something while waiting for SEPTA.
At Morning Glory, they make their own ketchup. This is of utmost importance. Also, their biscuits are the best biscuits I’ve ever had, but even that pales in comparison to the homemade ketchup.
It’s never fancy with me — just give me two scrambled eggs and home fries, and some rye toast.
10:30 a.m.
We go on a Black history tour of Philly, with tour guide Mijuel K. Johnson of the Black Journey. He’s wonderful.
Even as a middle schooler, walking over the old cobblestone bricks of Old City, there was that sensation that 20 feet below, history is literally buried. It’s nice getting new layers of the historical story.
Some walking tours can be: fact, fact, fact, and my eyes gloss over. But Mijuel is not just rattling off facts, he’s really contextualizing stories.
1 p.m.
After all that walking, you want to sit down. The best bet is to go over to the Landmark Ritz Five and see what’s playing. Just go to the next show and enjoy it.
4 p.m.
We head south, and stop at Garland of Letters on South Street. It’s the O.G. New Age bookstore.
They’re always burning some great-smelling incense, they always have a huge amethyst geode that costs $5,000. They have a fountain with water trickling. It’s just peaceful — let the vibes center you.
4:30 p.m.
I go to Fante’s Kitchen Shop, a kitchen supply store. It’s the splurgy place. They’ve got copper pots and knives and kettles that looks so fancy. I’ll look for whatever I can afford.
Then we swing around the corner to John’s Water Ice. I always have the same conversation with them: I say, “Once upon a time I had a flavor called Tutti Frutti here,” and they say “No, such a flavor never existed.” I describe it, and they’re like, “Well, would you like a mixed cherry and pineapple?” And then I have it, and it’s amazing.
Quiara Alegría Hudes marshaling the Puerto Rican parade in New York City in 2022.
6:30 p.m.
For dinner we go to Marrakesh. We’re walking, we have not taken a taxi. If the bus has gone by, we popped on it, but we don’t wait for it.
This is either with an old friend who you need to spend hours catching up with, or date night. It’s all covered in blankets, and it’s candle-lit. It’s very romantic and magical in there. You’re leaning against pillows, you might be sitting on the floor.
They have a set menu, it’s Moroccan food. The dish I remember most is the B’Stella: it’s kind of like scrambled eggs and very finely diced chicken inside a flaky pastry that’s got sugar on top, so it’s sweet and salty.
You just gab the night away as they bring you food.
9 p.m.
For our next stop, we are going to rely on the bus. It’s just too far to walk at this point.
We go to Taller Puertorriqueño, the Puerto Rican culture workshop in North Philly. They have literary and musical events there. Maybe they have a Nuyorican author in town, or a Philly-Rican poet reading their work.
They also have an in-house bookstore called Julia de Burgos Bookstore. It’s fantastic: they have English books, Spanish books, and local artworks and jewelry.
11 p.m.
It’s way past my bedtime. I catch an Uber, or drive home.
Lancaster, Pa., is technically a city, but it’s packed with the charm of a Hallmark movie town: strollable streets lined with boutiques, Instagram-worthy late-fall foliage, and — yes — even the occasional Amish couple riding in a horse and buggy just beyond the city limits.
To get your weekend started, take a 90-minute drive past picturesque farms on I-76 and U.S. Route 222, or hop on Amtrak’s Keystone line, which drops you at the edge of downtown.
Hear us out: This upscale campground is 30 minutes outside of Lancaster by car, but it has the vibe of an all-year summer camp for adults. Red Run Resort’s 21 lakeside A-frame studios and cabins are homey yet luxurious, with spa-style bathrooms with soaking tubs, plush king-size beds, and private firepits. The campground also has an on-site pumpkin patch and occasional line dancing and bingo pop-ups, so guests don’t have to go far for a bit of countryside flair.
The living room of one of the A-Frame cabins at the Red Run Resort in New Holland, Pa., which overlooks a lake. The upscale camp ground is roughly 30 minutes outside of Lancaster by car.
If you’re looking to stay in the city, the boutique Lancaster Arts Hotel transformed an 1800s tobacco warehouse into a living art gallery, displaying $300,000 worth of art from local artists across its 63 guest rooms. It’s walking distance from downtown and earns bonus points for free parking and complimentary bikes to explore the city.
📍 877 Martin Church Rd., New Holland, Pa. 17557 (Red Run Resort) ; 300 Harrisburg Ave., Lancaster, Pa. 17603 (Lancaster Arts Hotel)
After checking in, fuel up at Square One Coffee, a local micro-roastery whose Ethiopian blend beat out more than 2,000 entries to win a Good Food Award for best coffee. Their flagship Duke Street cafe is a solid pick for both coffee snobs and “little treat” connoisseurs, specializing in single-origin espressos and aromatic lattes in flavors like orange blossom honey or Blue Zen, a sky-colored concoction of butterfly pea powder, jasmine syrup, and chamomile tea.
Take your coffee to go and spend the afternoon exploring a trio of downtown Lancaster’s curated thrift and vintage boutiques. This reporter’s advice is to pack light, because it’s easy to bring an outfit (or two) and a suitcase full of tchotchkes home.
Start at Basura for racks of salvaged denim and leather, colorful sweaters, and quirky tees before heading over to Space, which specializes in mid-century modern wares that feel like they were ripped from a Mad Men set. Then, close out your shopping spree by heading to BUiLDiNG CHARACTER, a vintage and artisan marketplace with 80-plus vendors selling everything from butterflies preserved in glass and the occasional fossil to old school suits and antique jewelry.
📍106 E. King St., Lancaster, Pa. 17602 (Basura); 24 W. Walnut St., Lancaster, Pa. 17603 (Space); 342 N. Queen St., Lancaster, Pa. 17603 (BUiLDiNG CHARACTER)
Just a portion of the pick-n-mix candy selection from Sweetish Candy at 301 N. Queen Street Lancaster, Pa., which has been importing Scandinavian candies since 2019.
Pick-and-mix: Sweetish Candy
Lancaster’s Sweetish Candy was importing Scandinavian sweets long before pick-and-mix bags were all the rage. Sweetish Candy owner Tyler Graybeal started selling Swedish treats in 2019 and now stocks more than 70 colorful candies for shoppers to dump into customizable bags and buckets. Graybeal’s selection includes still hard-to-find BUBS gummies, plus varieties of licorice tubes, pastel marshmallows, and chocolate eggs. This sugar rush doesn’t come cheap, though: Two pounds of candy cost $47.
For snacks that don’t cause a toothache, Lancaster Pickle Company is across the street with barrels of assorted pickle chips, dill pretzels, and — yes — even half-sour lip balm.
📍301 N. Queen St., Lancaster, Pa. 17603
Stroll: Conestoga Greenway Trail
This 2.6 mile out-and-back trail wraps a horseshoe around the scenic Conestoga River and has three access points with parking lots at Duke Street, Broad Street, and Conestoga Drive. The greenway winds its away around the water and through the trees, so it’s perfect for late-fall leaf peeping and serene nature walks. The river is a favorite of duck flocks, turtles, and deers stopping for a drink.
Learn: James Buchanan’s Wheatland
Built in 1828 as a prominent lawyer’s mansion, Wheatland changed hands several times before landing in 1848 with James Buchanan — then secretary of state and later, by many historians’ accounts, one of America’s worst presidents. Buchanan lived there until his death in 1868.
Preserved by the nonprofit LancasterHistory, the home offers guided tours of Buchanan’s original furnishings and 19th-century décor. From Nov. 16 through Dec. 20, the tours take on a festive twist for Yuletide at Wheatland, exploring the family’s holiday traditions.
Tucked in the back of noodle bar Issei is Hi-Fi Izakaya, a speakeasy-esque listening lounge where DJs spin vinyl jazz, soul, and pop records until last call. The space is sleek and sexy, with a cocktail menu that adds Asian flair to standard drinks, like a gimlet mixed with matcha syrup, a Thai iced tea-infused espresso martini, and an old fashioned made with aged Japanese whiskey.
The cozy British watering hole has been serving oversize platters of crispy fish and chips and traditional bangers and mash since 1984. Regulars come by often, bartenders said, for hefty burgers and sarnies (British slang for sandwich), plus an extensive list of imported German, Irish, and English beers.
📍 457 New Holland Ave., Lancaster, Pa. 17602
Rows of seasonal ice cream flavors from Fox Meadow Creamery in Leola, Pa.
Indulge: Fox Meadow Creamery
Fox Meadow Creamery’s Leola location is exactly halfway between Quip’s Pub and your cabin at Red Run, making it the perfect place to cap off a day of gallivanting in the city. Fox Meadow churns its ice cream on-site with milk from cows raised on the creamery’s dairy farm in nearby Ephrata, resulting in ultra-thick and and rich scoops.
Fox Meadow’s flavors change with the seasons, so the late fall comes with vats of apple cream pie, pumpkin patch cheesecake, and venetian tiramisu ice creams, among others. And — before you ask — yes, they carry pints for you to take on the road.
Dining rooms in Philly are abuzz with talk of Michelin’s impending arrival in Philadelphia —whose stars (or lack thereof) are set to be announced on Tuesday.
On a recent night, while celebrating my wedding anniversary at the elegant Friday Saturday Sunday, diners at tables on either side of mine discussed the potential of the restaurant winning a star. That same week, at the hushed, luxe soapstone counter at Provenance, where spotlights shine precisely upon the parade of twenty-some courses (which costs $300 inclusive of tax and service charge, but not beverages) placed in front of diners, Michelin was brought up by every single guest to chef Nich Bazik as he made his rounds. “I’ve been to a lot of Michelin-starred places and they’ve been mediocre. But I think you’re going to get one,” I overheard one diner telling Bazik.
Anticipation is high. But what would getting Michelin recognition actually mean to Philadelphia restaurants? In at least one case, it might translate to survival. For the rest of the city, the guide’s arrival is both foreboding and exciting.
The experience that Bazik concocts at Provenance is Michelin bait: As I was being seated, my purse is given its own stool. Each time I get up to go to the restroom, my napkin has been replaced with a fresh, clean, starched, and folded one on a wooden tray. I count as many staff members as diners seated around the counter. My grenache noir is served in an impossibly delicate German Spiegelau glass. A single glass can cost $40, far more than the $15 wine it contains. These are the touches Michelin inspectors — or at least, diners who dine frequently at Michelin-starred restaurants — pay attention to.
“A lot of folks dining here liken us to Michelin-starred restaurants in New York and around the world,” said Bazik in a phone conversation after my meal.
“There’s a lot of weight for me in that outcome. We’re confident in the products that we bring in and our execution, but my anxiety lies with people’s expectations,” he said.
For Bazik, the expectation that his restaurant will attain a star is high, and more than any of the other Philly restaurants speculated about in recent Michelin banter, Provenance needs a star to keep operating. Unlike its fellow contenders — Royal Sushi & Izakaya, Friday Saturday Sunday, Kalaya, and Vetri Cucina, to name some likely star recipients — the year-old restaurant hasn’t received international attention nor garnered any major awards.
Royal, Kalaya, and Friday Saturday Sunday made appearances on the inaugural North America 50 Best list, an institution often considered a bellwether of future Michelin recognition, much the way Hollywood insiders consider the Screen Actors Guild Awards a tip as to who might ultimately take home an Oscar. Provenance’s recent appearance on Bon Appétit’s 20 best restaurants of 2025 list was exciting for Bazik, but didn’t contribute to any discernible increase in reservations.
Provenance chef-owner Nicholas Bazik greets guest in the Headhouse Square restaurant on Oct. 17, 2024.
On Nov. 18, Michelin will release its 2025 Northeast Cities edition, covering dining in Chicago, New York City, Washington, D.C., and for the first time, Boston and Philadelphia. Over the last two years, the Michelin Guide has expanded rapidly in the United States, growing to include a new region of the South (Alabama, Louisiana, Mississippi, North Carolina, South Carolina, and Tennessee) and the states of Texas and Colorado. Atlanta’s guide was introduced in 2023, but has since been rolled into the South’s edition. The Florida guide, introduced in 2022, has expanded to include a greater Miami area, Orlando, and Tampa. Internationally, the guide arrived in Qatar, New Zealand, and the Philippines in the last year.
Anonymous inspectors were dispatched to Philly’s restaurants many months ago. About a month ago, those selected for either stars, a Bib Gourmand designation (for restaurants that have a “simpler style of cooking” and “leave you with a sense of satisfaction, at having eaten so well as such a reasonable price”), or to be listed in the guide without either recognitionreceived a short survey from Michelin via email to confirm details like how they take reservations and their address.
Invites to the ceremony went out last week to chefs and restaurateurs, some who will appear in this new guide and some who won’t. Intentionally or not, Michelin seems to toy with the hopes and expectations of chefs, inviting a number of attendees who will walk away empty-handed or, in some cases, having lost a star.
The communication between Michelin and restaurants is famously terse and, for some included the guide’s newer editions, highly unexpected. When the Philippines’ first-ever Michelin stars were announced on Oct. 30, one restaurateur did not appear to receive his plaque because he had believed the emails to be spam.
The Michelin Guide’s arrival has also been rejected, as is case in Australia, where Michelin reportedly asked for $17.33 million over five years from Tourism Australia. The bid was rejected and Australia’s restaurants were passed over while the guide landed in New Zealand, to varying fanfare.
The interior of Friday Saturday Sunday.
Michelin math
As deserving as the Philly food scene is on the international stage, the reality is that Michelin attention is coming because the Philadelphia Convention & Visitors Bureau invested inexpanding the guide’s coverage here.If Provenance were located in Pittsburgh, Bazik would have to wait until the city’s tourism board was willing to pay for its restaurants to be considered by inspectors.
Restaurants may stand to benefit financially from Michelin recognition. In the documentary Knife Edge: Chasing Michelin Stars, produced by Gordon Ramsay and heavily promoted by Michelin itself, host Jesse Burgess says, “They say with one Michelin star you get 20% more business. With two Michelin stars, you’re going to see about 40% more, three Michelin stars, double — 100% more business.” These numbers were corroborated by Eater in 2010.
But some restaurants have also reported having a Michelin star can cost them money. An initial bump can be followed by a slump, according to a study in the Strategic Management Journal: “Consequences of Michelin stars were not all necessarily favorable. Restaurateurs also emphasized how relationships with employees, landlords, and suppliers became more strained as these exchange partners sought to bargain for more value.”
The downsides
Michelin-starred restaurants may struggle to maintain diners’ expectations, which have been compounded by shows like The Bear and examples set forth by empire-building restaurateurs like Will Guidara, also the author of Unreasonable Hospitality.
“Traditional gestures of hospitality will not cut it. Sending an extra appetizer to a table seems quaint, and just forget about the ubiquitous candle in the dessert,” wrote restaurateur John Winterman, the owner of one-starred Francie in Brooklyn, in a recent article in Food & Wine. Michelin-caliber restaurants, in addition to everything else they’re trying to keep up with, are now dealing with diners used to extraordinary gestures.
Guests fill the dining room at Kalaya in Fishtown as restaurant staff weave through service on Aug. 22, 2024.
“Someone complained once because we didn’t have purse stools. And why not? We have a Michelin star, so we should have purse stools,” Winterman told me in a phone conversation.
Michelin expectations can also have a downside for diners: Who wants to travel thousands of miles to eat the same food?
More and more has been written about the creeping sameness that haunts Michelin-caliber restaurants around the globe. As they strive for stars, restaurants start to resemble one another in both hospitality and food. In his 2024 review of New York City’s one-starred Noksu, the New York Times’ former critic Pete Wells pondered, “There are restaurants like this in almost every major city now, imitation pearls on a string that circles the world. Once the door closes, you could be anywhere, or nowhere. How did chefs who prize both originality and a sense of place decide that the most appropriate backdrop for their food would be copycat rooms done in a blank-faced global style?”
Even as Philly gears up for more international visitors and attention for the World Cup and America’s 250th anniversary, it’s likely that a (much-desired) influx of food tourists will all try to go to the same places thanks to Michelin. Many already are.
“We’ve booked Friday Saturday Sunday and Kalaya, where else should we go?” a Canadian friend texted me last week. He was looking for the usual suspects, the must-eats, notches on his belt. A rising tide may not lift all ships, but rather concentrate the money and attention on a select few.
Morale boost
“Awards are always superspecial. Obviously we love getting recognized,” said Marc Vetri in a phone interview. “But in the end, we are not here to win awards. We’re here to do what we love. Awards are never the end goal.”
Open for over a quarter of a century, Vetri doesn’t need a Michelin star the way Provenance does. Vetri Cucina already attracts well-heeled international visitors, happy to open their wallets for the extraordinary pastas and meats that the kitchen turns out. “If you’re around that long, folks are going to hear about you. Everyone knows about us. Our dining room every night has a variety of area codes from local to the West Coast, to European numbers, phone numbers from all over the world,” said Vetri.
Getting a Michelin star won’t change how he operates either. “This is my life, maybe a lot of chefs are thinking about this differently — sticking things on their menu specifically for Michelin. But once you stray from who you are, you’ve lost who you are. We’re always evolving. We’re a new restaurant every year. We evolve with my life experiences,” he said. “And we won’t raise our prices, like in a war.”
Marc Vetri makes pasta at Vetri Cucina.
Vetri is excited for Philly to have more recognition on the world culinary stage. “It’ll bring more Europeans and worldly folks to Philly,” he said.
Nich Bazik has wanted his own restaurant since the age of 20 and has never worked in a Michelin-starred restaurant. If Provenance attains a star, his own will be the first that he has cooked in. This is a rarity. Chefs at his level typically train at Michelin-starred restaurants in many cities, gaining experience from global kitchens and hobnobbing with other chefs with Michelin stars in their eyes. Bazik’s cooking is entirely homegrown, nurtured by experiences working at James with Jim Burke and at Russett with Andrew Wood.
“I am from Philadelphia. This is my home,” Bazik said. “My entire paid tenure of being a cook has been in Philadelphia and by design. I didn’t see the benefit of going elsewhere.”
Despite Bazik’s anxiety, “Michelin isn’t going to change how we operate. I work from 9:30 a.m. to midnight every day. I’d be doing that whether Michelin was coming or not.”
More business?
The reservation system OpenTable regularly posts its top 10 most-booked restaurants in cities. In their latest Philadelphia update, on Nov. 5, that list included Borromini, Parc, the Love, Talula’s Garden, the Dandelion, and El Vez, and none of the other restaurants mentioned in this article. (Resy, which Kalaya and Royal Sushi use, does not put out a comparable, data-driven list).
This is a reminder that the restaurants contending for a Michelin star exist in a rarefied space. As much as the guide’s representatives try to downplay their focus on fine dining, the vast majority of Michelin hopefuls do charge a lot of money. On a purely economic basis, they aren’t for everyone.
Conversely, OpenTable’s top 10 is a reflection of where people are really going out to eat in Philadelphia and, of course, the restaurants large enough to accommodate them — six of 10 of those places are owned by Stephen Starr (an altogether different star than what we’re talking about). At the end of the day, actual diners mean more to the bottom line and longevity of a restaurant than stars. But they probably can’t hurt.
When Angelo’s Pizzeria opened in South Philly six years ago, it didn’t just elevate the city’s cheesesteak standards — it reshaped them in its own image. Gone were the stale rolls, shredded meat, and molten flows of watery Whiz.
Under the purview of owner Danny DiGiampietro, Angelo’s introduced crusty, house-baked rolls. DiGiampietro grilled seasoned rib eye right up to the chewy line without crossing it, merging Cooper Sharp and beef at the optimum melting point. A new school of cheesesteak emerged.
Since 2019, reviews from the likes of Barstool’s Dave Portnoy and Somebody Feed Phil’s Phil Rosenthal have spread word of the shop’s high-quality operation nationwide, abetted by hype from actor Bradley Cooper and a bevy of media outlets (this one included). Its renown has prompted wave after wave of customers to show up to the corner of Ninth and Fitzwater five days a week. The line there has become a raucous scene, with cheesesteak hunters happy to wait more than an hour just to place an order and wait another 20- or 40-plus minutes for the food.
Whiz steak from Angelo’s Pizzeria at 736 S. Ninth St.,
But DiGiampietro, a known perfectionist, can’t be everywhere at once.
A visit to the Terminal-based Uncle Gus’ spinoff (a partnership with Joe Nicolosi of DiNic’s Roast Pork and Dave Braunstein of Pearl’s Oyster Bar) provided an uneven experience this past spring, when I sampled a disappointing set of sandwiches. I expected a long-rolled reminder of life’s redeeming qualities, and instead got … something else. While the rolls were expertly baked, they were both filled with a wad of dry beef strings glued together with gobs of stubborn fat.
It got me wondering if Angelo’s had grown too fast, too soon, and too far to maintain the standard of cheesesteak excellence that they set for the rest of the city.
Has demand decreased Angelo’s quality?
On an April trip to Angelo’s Ninth Street location,I had a similarly subpar encounter. The rib eye in the cheesesteak was haphazardly chopped and extremely dry. There was more salt in the Whiz than on the meat. The signature crusty bread — usually up to handling the mound of toppings — was coming apart under the weight of the poorly cooked beef.
I ordered multiple sandwiches, with various cheeses and sauce combinations, and the best bite I had on that visit was the pizza steak, with the blend of meat, sauce, and cheese melding into what can only be described as a cheesesteak-meatball sub hybrid. The sauce smoothed over the dryness of the meat and balanced it out with a thick twist of mozzarella.
Beef from an Angelo’s cheesesteak.
I went back to try again in May. Maybe it was just an off day? But I was still disappointed. The major issue this time was the house-baked roll. Famed for its crustiness, which everyone is copying, this bread was uncharacteristically underbaked. It got soggy — fast. It buckled under the weight of overstuffed meat, which was once againon the drier side. (The Cooper Sharp, however, was perfectly melted into the meat this time.)
When I told DiGiampietro about these experiences recently, he said, “It breaks my heart.”
DiGiampietro’s original shop, which he opened in Haddonfield in 2013, won regional recognition, but its cult following didn’t hold a spatula to the national rep Angelo’s claims today. Before moving to the Ninth Street location in 2019, he said, he “never, in my wildest dreams, expected any of this.”
“Have some things gotten through the cracks here and there? They sure have,” he said. “And they drive me crazy at night.”
What makes a good cheesesteak?
According to the Philly-based “fatty foods biographer” Carolyn Wyman, who authored The Great Philly Cheesesteak Book in 2009, an exceptional steak relies on four core principles: a bakery-fresh roll, gooey cheese that doesn’t overwhelm the taste or soak the sandwich into submission, onions that aren’t caramelized into oblivion, and beef that actually tastes like beef and not just a pile of gristle.
It has to be more than a working-class sandwich. It has to be a symphony. It should coalesce into one glorious flavor, with each component equally balanced. One component should not be used to balance out weakness in another.
I figure the Angelo’s problem results from the pressures of serving a daily deluge of customers.
When I worked at a cheesesteak shop in college, the major pain points came with getting the meat off the grill. DiGiampietro knows well the perils of the flat-top.
“My biggest pet peeve is too much meat on the grill,” he conceded, “because now you’re not frying. You’re steaming it. And it’s a completely different steak.”
He tells his staff all the time: “People are going to wait. Make it worth their f’ing wait,” he said.
And let’s be fair to the cooks: That line can be intimidating.
“A lot of times my guys get too nervous,” he said, “and they see those tickets coming in, and they want to try and load up the grill, but there’s only so much we can do and how fast we can do it the right way.”
Too much, too fast
I have a ton of respect for DiGiampietro, for everything he’s built and for his dedication to his craft. He’s onlyhuman.
“It’s daunting,” he said. “I see a therapist, believe it or not. Just the pressure of the expectations can sometimes be very overwhelming.”
Danny DiGiampietro, owner of Angelo’s Pizzeria, at Angelo’s Baking Co. in Conshohocken.
“I thought we’d be serving sandwiches and pizza to the neighborhood,” he said. “I did not see this.”
The Uber expansion in particular was a little harder than he anticipated, he said. “It’s been a challenge,” he said. “I am getting it under control.”
But if someone has a bad experience, he said he’ll own up to it and offer ways to make it right.
“We’re trying our best,” he said. “We’re not Michelin stars here. It’s pizza, cheesesteaks, and making bread. But we do it the best we can and as honestly as we can.”
I stopped by Angelo’s yesterday to see how things were going.
I picked up a few sandwiches, and there was a lot of good: The steaks weren’t overstuffed, and the rolls were ideally crusty on the outside and buttery soft on the inside. But the beef between the two sandwiches varied in how well it was cooked, and the ratio of cheese to meat was inconsistent.
The longer I ate one with Whiz the worse it became; the meat was a touch too tough. On the other hand, the cheesesteak with Cooper Sharp increasingly won me over with every bite — it lived up to the hype, and it’s exactly what people are waiting for. It was the epitome of the new-school cheesesteak Angelo’s made famous.
So it wasn’t a redemptive visit, per se, but it does show that Angelo’s has plenty of fight left in its grill. They’re still dedicated to getting it right. It’s just a matter of execution.
This last visit helped solidify my belief that DiGiampietro will get things back on track. He set his own standard, and Angelo’s made steaks in Philly better. A few missteps won’t change that.
Bells and birds help tell the city’s story, but it’s a sandwich that helps explain Philadelphians. How we evolved from farmers in the cradle of liberty to DoorDashers in a melting pot of orange whiz is informed and defined by the cheesesteak. Raising the Steaks is a weeklyish chronicle of this long-rolled reminder of life’s redeeming qualities.
We’re back to respond to another pressing, reader-submitted question. I chatted with two dog owners on staff who debate the regular issue (and throw some shade at cats).
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Evan Weiss
Deputy Features Editor
The question is: Can I toss out my dog's poop bag in someone else's trash can while out and about?
Stephanie Farr
Staff Columnist
No. Absolutely not. Aside from not picking up your dog's poop at all, this may be one of the worst things you can doo doo.
Jason Nark
Life & Culture Reporter
While I'm on the "pro" side, I don't do this myself. I either take it home with me or dump it in a municipal trash can on my route.
Stephanie Farr
I'm glad you don't do it, Jason.
Stephanie Farr
I do think it's one of the things that give dog owners a bad name. Municipal cans and dumpsters are fine, but I think throwing it in someone's just-emptied personal trash can is just trash. What if their trash can sits right under their window all week or in their backyard?
Jason Nark
My feeling is that it's all going to the same place and while I'd rather you take it to your house and put it in your can, I also don't like carrying dog poop around. I get it. We're all in this together.
Stephanie Farr
Nobody likes carrying poop around in a bag — and if you do, you may want to talk to someone about that. But it's a part of dog ownership and if you aren't willing to do it don't get a dog.
Evan Weiss
I hate it when someone throws a bag into my just-emptied trash can. But! I don't mind if it's out on the curb waiting to be emptied. How do you feel about that?
Jason Nark
I'm sure I have someone else's dog poop in my empty trash cans right now.
Stephanie Farr
Throwing dog poop in a full trash can waiting to be emptied is better than a just-emptied one.
Stephanie Farr
Before I had a dog, I remember folks used to walk off of the sidewalk to throw their dog poop bags in my empty can on the side of my house — when it wasn't even trash day! Oh that got my goat.
Jason Nark
There's a woman who lives near my house with a dilapidated garage with some holes in the door and people constantly toss poop bags in there. That's wrong.
Stephanie Farr
Oh my dog, that is reprehensible!
Evan Weiss
THEY THROW IT IN HER GARAGE??
Jason Nark
Yes.
Stephanie Farr
I feel so sorry for that lady and for those dogs that their owners are such terrible human beings.
Stephanie Farr
Question for you, Jason: Did you ever forget to bring a poop bag on a walk? If so, what did you do?
Jason Nark
No comment.
Jason Nark
My ex and I used to joke about the rare "double bang-bang": when you bring one bag but your dog goes twice.
Stephanie Farr
Gah! Yes! I learned the hard way early on to always bring more than one.
Stephanie Farr
I forgot a bag once and felt terrible. I walked home, got in my car, drove back and picked it up and drove it home in my car, hoping someone didn't see me and think I was just going around bagging up random poop and taking it home with me.
Jason Nark
God Bless!
Jason Nark
I'll say this, I'd rather deal with dog poop every day than clean one litter box.
Stephanie Farr
Oh heck yes! Any day of the week.
Evan Weiss
Last question: What would you say to someone you saw dropping a bag in your trash can?
Jason Nark
I don't think I'd say anything.
Stephanie Farr
“Why can't you carry this back with you? Would you like to leave your dog here with me too?”
This conversation has been edited for length.
Should a dog owner toss out their dog's poop bag in someone else's trash can?
Thanks for voting
What other Very Philly Questions should we address?
We’ll show you a photo taken in the Philly-area, you drop a pin where you think it was taken. Closer to the location results in a better score. This week’s theme is all about Halloween. Good luck!
Round #4Published Oct 25, 2025
Question 1
Where can you find this raven?
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ClickTap on map to guess the location in the photo
ClickTap again to change your guess and hit submit when you're happy
You will be scored at the end. The closer to the location the better the score
Tom Gralish / Staff Photographer
Pretty good/Not bad/Way off! Your guess was from the location. Here's also where a random selection of Inquirer readers guessed.
This is the Edgar Allan Pоe National Historic Site. Known for the horrifying and mystifying works, Poe lived in Philadelphia from 1838 to 1844. Here he wrote some of his most well-known stories, including the “Fall of the House of Usher” and “The Mask of the Red Death.”
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Question 2
Where can you find Benjamin Franklin’s grave?
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Monica Herndon / Staff Photographer
Pretty good/Not bad/Way off! Your guess was from the location. Here's also where a random selection of Inquirer readers guessed.
There are some lingering rumors about the ghost of Benjamin Franklin wandering around in Old City. Whether you believe the tales or not, you can find his final resting place at the Christ Church Burial Ground. The graveyard first opened in 1719 and is open to the public.
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Question 3
Where was this old photo taken?
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The Library of Congress
Pretty good/Not bad/Way off! Your guess was from the location. Here's also where a random selection of Inquirer readers guessed.
This is the lobby of the Bellevue Hotel on South Broad Street in the mid-20th century. According to some tour guides, Bellevue Hotel’s “haunted” reputation started with a Legionnaires’ disease outbreak in the 1970s and still attracts horror lovers.
Your Score
ARank
Amazing work. Consider yourself an expert in Philly's spooky lore!
BRank
Good stuff. You've almost mastered the art of being scarily smart.
CRank
C is a passing grade, but maybe take a ghost tour next time.
DRank
D isn’t great. Did a spooky spirit guess for you?
FRank
We don’t want to say you failed, but you didn’t not fail.
Cherokee Guido swung her legs and hips vertically above the lower uneven bar at Vare Recreation Center one recent evening as her coach steadied her. Guido had once mastered this handstand but lost it during a few months off. She wanted it back.
“I can’t be afraid to fall,” Guido, 19, coached herself out loud. Behind her hung a sign with rainbow borders: The way you speak to yourself matters.
Over the years, young gymnasts like Guido and their Vare coaches have learned to talk themselves to victory, first when they were practicing in a crumbling rec building before COVID, then when they were trekking from South Philadelphiato Brewerytown’s Athletic Recreation Center while Vare underwent renovations. They had gotten used to tumbling on mats that slipped around, without a regulation spring floor. They learned to train their minds as much as their bodies.
Throughout practice, the girls cheer each other on across the gym, quick to compliment teammates they say are more like sisters.
“Nice, Laila!” Ariah Buzzetto, 10, called out to her friend Laila Godfrey, 12, across the floor.
“How you practice is how you compete. If you practice lazy, then you’re going to compete lazy,” said 12-year-old Meela Muhammad, sounding very much like an inspirational poster.
Notes written by 9-year-old Alessia Samson during practice.
Now, training in a new, state-of-the-art, 4,900-square-foot gym at the renovated Vare, which reopened in November 2024,the gymnasts have come a long way — but they’re still competing against private-club teams with sleek, matching uniforms who are better funded, and often better prepared for high-pressure USA Gymnastics (USAG) competitions.
“They have a lot more, bigger skills,” Guido said of their rivals. “At first, for me, I felt like how you go to a ball, you feel underdressed.”
Guido, for example, still wears an older purple leotard because she couldn’t afford a new one, while the rest of her team wears blue.
Head coach Kristin Smerker and Cherokee Guido, 19, laugh while working on the uneven bars during team practice.
Now, Vare Gymnastics is trying to raise at least$6,000 as soon as possible through a GoFundMefor new jackets and gym bags for this year’s competition season, which begins with the Liberty Cup, a December USAG meet at the Greater Philadelphia Expo Center.
If they don’t raise the money, they won’t be able to purchase full uniform sets. The team is also hoping to put some of the money toward financial aid for spring meets; most meets fill up by the end of the fall, and without the funds to enter, some girls won’t be able to attend.
USAG is the national governing body for gymnasts; the Vare Rec team competes in Xcel, a program that offers more accessible competitions than the parallel track that funnels athletes to world competitions and the Olympics.There are only two other city rec centers in Philly that compete in USAG competitions: Kendrick Recreation Center in Roxborough and the Water Tower Recreation Center in Chestnut Hill.
From left, Cherokee Guido, 19, and Alessia Samson, 9, train on the balance beam during team practice.
Though Xcel is supposed to be more affordable, gymnastics is expensive: Entrance fees and uniforms cost hundreds of dollars per child, plus tuition for practice. At $100 per semester, Vare’s rate is far less than at those private gyms, but many parents still struggle to pay.
Marie McBreen, 42, has two daughters in the program. Her oldest enrolled 10 years ago after McBreen begged the coaches for three weeks to find her a spot. She’s seen how positive the team is for them: It has boosted their confidence and they’ve made close friends. But this year, with two kids in the program, she can’t afford to send both to all the competitions.
“Most of us don’t have a whole lot of money. You do the fundraiser to help so they don’t have to miss out,” McBreen said.
Head coach Kristin Smerker is not sure whether the team will raise enough in time.
“Every club has a whole getup. And we don’t. We’re getting whatever we can,” Smerker said. “You can still compete, but they just don’t feel good about it … They’re so talented and they deserve better.”
Smerker is a Northeast native, an encouraging, pump-you-up kind of coach prone to wearing black leggings and mismatched grip socks at daily practice. She built the program from the ground up, starting in 1998 with two floor mats she had begged from nearby gyms.
Nearly 30 years later, Vare Gymnastics has 130 participants, plus a nine-page waiting list. In 2013, the team joined USAG. Alongside Smerker, the team has a beam coach and also a floor coach, Smerker’s sister. In 2017, Smerker brought the team to a USAG meet and lamented to the other coaches that the girls didn’t have a permanent building and were shuttling all over the city for practice.
“Our team won first place,” she said, laughing. “Our kids have heart.”
Head coach Kristin Smerker guides Ariah Buzzetto, 10, during practice. Alessia Samson, 9, (left) and Cherokee Guido, 19, (right) are guided by beam coach Natasha Rogers (middle) as Ariah Buzzetto, 10, looks on.
Guido has been practicing gymnastics at Vare since she was 2 years old, and is among the best at the gym. Last year she graduated from high school and technically from Vare, but she is now back working on her skills.
“I love it already!” she called to her teammate Suadaa “Susu” Muhammad, as Susu debuted her new floor routine.
Along with team captain Elianna Olsen,Muhammad and Guido call themselves the “OG gymnasts” because they’ve been at Vare the longest.
Perhaps like many young gymnasts, Muhammad, 19, started with enormous dreams.
In the beginning, she said, “I thought I was gonna be bigger than Simone Biles.”
These days, she fits practice in three times a week, alongside radiology classes in her freshman year at the Community College of Philadelphia, and a night job pushing wheelchairs at the airport. She was also just hired as a coach for the Vare team. In her own training, she’s focused on her round off back handspring back tuck for her floor routine, trying to get it ready for December’s meet.
“Some coaches say to our coaches, ‘Oh, wow, you’re from a rec center? I’m surprised your girls are doing this good,’” Muhammad said.
South Philly’s Vare Gymnastics Team is the subject of the short documentary “Underdogs,” which is executive produced by former Philadelphia Eagles Connor Barwin and Jason Kelce.
In the early years, Muhammad used to get points deducted at meets for wearing her headscarf, she said; the judges considered it in the same category as jewelry and nail polish, which are prohibited. Her family and coaches wrote letters to USAG, and the rule was changed, Smerker said.
This year, Smerker wants the girls to be wearing their matching uniforms when they walk out to meet their rivals.
“I want them to walk in there and feel proud of themselves and feel confident,” she said. “It’s important to them and important to me to do everything to make it happen.”
Tony B. Watlington Sr. took some razzing when he arrived in Philadelphia for a high-stakes job: superintendent of the city’s public school system.
Who was this outsider hired to run the nation’s eighth-largest school system?
Watlington was born in New Jersey — Fort Dix, to be exact — but spent most of his life and all of his career in North Carolina, with the lilting Southern accent to prove it.
Philadelphia School District Superintendent Tony B. Watlington, Sr. at round table discussion at Murrell Dobbins Career & Technical Education High School Sept. 2, 2025.
But since 2022, Watlington has been a Philadelphian — a distinction he’s now proud to claim. (He’s staying around, too — the school board just extended Watlington’s contract through 2030.)
While most Philadelphians describe their perfect day away from work, Watlington couldn’t help himself.
5:45 a.m.
I’m up early, and I’m either out early getting a run on the Schuylkill or doing an indoor CrossFit workout. I work out for one hour — and I make sure to spend plenty of time stretching.
8 a.m.
I walk into my office, and it is clutter-free. All my emails are responded to from the evening before — though some come in overnight. All of my phone calls are returned from the previous day, so I get to hit the ground running, ahead and not behind. That is really important to me.
After I get a cup of coffee and look at that nice email inbox, I meet with the chief financial officer [Mike Herbstman] if it’s a Monday. He’s the first person I meet with every single week — we talk about district finances.
Philadelphia School District superintendent Tony B. Watlington Sr. (left) stops to talk with Marie Williams, the grandparent of a Building 21 High School student as he leaves a meeting with families, students and staff of the school at Strawberry Mansion High School Sunday Mar. 5, 2023.
Then I’m ready to gear up and hit the trail with district spokesperson Monique Braxton, or Deputy Chief [of Government and Community Relations Edwin] Santana, and we’re out and about. My perfect day would be to spend more than 50% of the day in schools, with teachers, principals, and students.
Superintendent Tony B. Watlington Sr. eats lunch with students at Hunter Elementary in North Philadelphia: pizza, carrots and green beans, fruit cup. Watlington also drank chocolate milk and chatted with kids about the first day of school of the 2025-26 school year.
When I’m not in schools, during that 50% of the day that I’m out of the office, I’m engaging with other external stakeholders — everything from grassroots organizations, elected officials at the city and state level, and with our federally elected officials, and also with members of the philanthropic community. I believe strongly in this notion of “nothing for us without us.”
I want to see how well things are going, and get some real-time feedback. One thing I love about Philadelphia: you don’t have to guess what people think. We are a frank city.
Philadelphia Eagles’ Jason Kelce shares a laugh with School District of Philadelphia Superintendent Dr. Tony Watlington on Tuesday, Dec. 10, 2024, during Operation Snowball Media Day at Shipmates in Philadelphia, Pa.The team is giving gifts to Philly school children with the money raised from the Eagles holiday album A Philly Specials Christmas Party.
3-5:30 p.m.
On Mondays, myself, the deputy, and associate superintendents spend the latter part of the day into the evening in a cabinet meeting. I never get home in time for the 6:30 p.m. news, which I used to like to see as a teacher sometimes.
Evening
I try to eat a healthy dinner, get a good night’s sleep, and drink plenty of water.
Even though I’m an empty nester at this point, that’s the time to either get a quick phone call or check in with my family, including my three sons Tony Jr., Aaron, and Caleb, who love coming to Philadelphia.
By the time I get to the end of the week or the weekend, I’m ready for more of the robust things in Philadelphia, like cheesesteaks.
Superintendent Tony B. Watlington, Ed.D, during State-of-the-schools address, High School of the Future, Philadelphia, Thursday, Jan. 30, 2025. .
I have found so many places in Philadelphia for good food. Today, I had a chicken gyro from the Reading Terminal Market.
The other day, I went back to the first restaurant where my predecessor in Philly [William R. Hite Jr.] first took me to lunch, Talula’s Garden.
Dr. William Hite (foreground) listens to Tony Watlington Sr., the Philadelphia Public School districts new superintendent. Photograph taken on the morning of his announcement at the School District Headquarters at 440 N. Broad Street in Philadelphia on Friday morning April 1, 2022.
Now I’ve learned here in year four to just kind of wander around the city and so I’ve got a two-page list of restaurants. Everywhere I go, I’m always adding something new.
If there’s time, I try to be very intentional about being able to get out and cheer for the teams here. I am a frequent visitor to the stadiums, to see the Eagles, the Phillies, and the 76ers. The only team I’ve not actually been to a sporting event for yet is the Flyers. That’s on my list for year four.
Dr. Tony Watlington Sr. Ed.D, Superintendent of Philadelphia schools helps kick off the Ring the Bell PHL campaign at Citizens Bank Park on Tuesday, August 13, 2024. This kick off starts the community thinking about upcoming school year.
