No longer at its home outside the Weitzman National Museum of American Jewish History on the corner of Fifth and Market Streets, the bright “Lamborghini yellow” sculpture that then-curator Josh Perelman called “an ongoing love letter to the city,” had gone away for some R & R — removal and refurbishment.
The “Y” waits to be refurbished at the Johnson Atelier in September.
Installed in 2022, the work by Brooklyn, N.Y.-based artist Deborah Kass quickly became one of our city’s most selfied spots — right up there with that bell just across Independence Mall.
It was only supposed to be here a year, but it stayed around (although the museum is hopeful, it’s still not officially permanent).
Students from Hillwood Middle School in Ft. Worth, Texas visit in 2022.
After years on the busy corner (and all those field-tripping middle-schoolers climbing on it) the museum scheduled a removal in May of the eight foot tall Y and O letters for freshening up, planned to coincide with the continuing construction along Market Street through Old City.
Knowing my feelings for their sculpture, the folks at the museum invited me to photograph the refurbishment.
The letters did not require extensive work, and the aluminum was treated not unlike body work on a car: removing dents, priming, painting and leaving a durable finish.
At the Johnson Atelier, a facility established by Seward Johnson in 1974 to give artists greater involvement in the production of their work, I was not allowed to photograph from any angle that showed any other art works in the background. And there were plenty (sigh), like an eight-foot tall metal hand sitting on the floor, right across from the “Y” (I had to sign an NDA).
Looking over the fence from a public area at Grounds for Sculpture in 2019. A collection of trompe-l’œil painted sculptures by Seward Johnson in the yard at the adjacent Johnson Atelier.
Adding to the lack of visual variety, the letters went into the painting booth one at a time, so I couldn’t make a picture of them in the same frame. And I could only see the workers in the booth from outside – through a couple of windows. But that is exactly the kind of photographic challenge I most enjoy.
Now, after a few months the two giant letters are both as good as new and are scheduled to be reinstalled this Saturday.
Weitzman president and CEO Dan Tadmor, looking forward to its return to their corner heading into the nation’s 250th says, “Deborah Kass’s OY/YO celebrates the spirit of a city that’s always spoken in its own voice: bold, funny, and full of heart.”
Since 1998 a black-and-white photo has appeared every Monday in staff photographer Tom Gralish’s “Scene Through the Lens” photo column in the print editions of The Inquirer’s local news section. Here are the most recent, in color:
October 20, 2025:The yellow shipping container next to City Hall attracted a line of over 300 people that stretched around a corner of Dilworth Park. Bystanders wondered as they watched devotees reaching the front take their selfies inside a retro Philly diner-esque booth tableau. Followers on social media had been invited to “Climb on to immerse yourself in the worlds of Pleasing Fragrance, Big Lip, and exclusive treasures,” including a spin of the “Freebie Wheel,” for products of the unisex lifestyle brand Pleasing, created by former One Direction singer Harry Styles.October 11, 2025: Can you find the Phillie Phanatic, as he leaves a “Rally for Red October Bus Tour” stop in downtown Westmont, N.J. just before the start of the NLDS? There’s always next year and he’ll be back. The 2026 Spring Training schedule has yet to be announced by Major League Baseball, but Phillies pitchers and catchers generally first report to Clearwater, Florida in mid-February.October 6. 2025: Fluorescent orange safety cone, 28 in, Poly Ethylene. Right: Paint Torch (detail) Claes Oldenburg, 2011, Steel, Fiberglass Reinforced Plastic, Gelcoat and Polyurethane. (Gob of paint, 6 ft. Main sculpture, 51 ft.). Lenfest Plaza at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts on North Broad Street, across from the Convention Center.September 29, 2025: A concerned resident who follows Bucks County politics, Kevin Puls records the scene before a campaign rally for State Treasurer Stacy Garrity, the GOP candidate for governor. His T-shirt is “personal clickbait” with a url to direct people to the website for The Travis Manion Foundation created to empower veterans and families of fallen heroes. The image on the shirts is of Greg Stocker, one of the hosts of Kayal and Company, “A fun and entertaining conservative spin on Politics, News, and Sports,” mornings on Talk Radio 1210 WPHT.September 22, 2025: A shadow is cast by “The Cock’s Comb,” created by Alexander “Sandy” Calder in 1960, is the first work seen by visitors arriving at Calder Gardens, the new sanctuary on the Ben Franklin Parkway. The indoor and outdoor spaces feature the mobiles, stabiles, and paintings of Calder, who was born in Philadelphia in 1898, the third generation of the family’s artistic legacy in the city.September 15, 2025: Department of Streets Director of Operations Thomas Buck leaves City Hall following a news conference marking the activation of Automated Speed Enforcement (ASE) cameras on the Broad Street corridor – one the city’s busiest and most dangerous roads. The speed limit on the street, also named PA Route 611, is 25 mph.September 8, 2025: Middle schoolers carry a boat to the water during their first outing in a learn-to-row program with the Cooper Junior Rowing Club, at the Camden County Boathouse on the Cooper River in Pennsauken. September 1, 2025: Trumpet player Rome Leone busks at City Hall’s Easr Portal. The Philadelphia native plays many instruments, including violin and piano, which he started playing when he was 3 years old. He tells those who stop to talk that his grandfather played with Billie Holiday, Duke Ellington, Nina Simone, and Dizzy Gillespie. August 25, 2025: Bicycling along on East Market Street.August 18, 2025: Just passing through Center City; another extraterrestrial among us. August 11, 2025: Chris Brown stows away Tongue, the mascot for a new hard iced tea brand, after wearing the lemon costume on a marketing stroll through the Historic District. Trenton-based Crooked Tea is a zero-sugar alcoholic tea brand founded by the creator of Bai, the antioxidant-infused coconut-flavored water, and launched in April with former Eagles defensive end Brandon Graham as a partner.August 4,2025: Shanna Chandler and her daughters figure out their plans for a morning spent in Independence National Historical Park on the map in the Independence Visitor Center. The women (from left) Lora, 20; Shanna; Lenna, 17; and Indigo, 29, were stopping on their way home to Richmond, Virginia after vacationing in Maine. The last time they were all in Philadelphia Shanna was pregnant with Lenna. July 28, 2025: Louis-Amaury Beauchet, a professional bridge player from Brittany, France, takes a break between game sessions in an empty ballroom during the North American Bridge Championships at the Center City Marriott with some 4000 people in town over week of the tournament. The American Contract Bridge League is hosting the week of meetings and tournaments with bridge players from all over the world. The ACBL is the largest bridge organization in North America, with over 120,000 members (down from around 165,000 before COVID). Bridge draws players of all ages and walks of life – fictional characters James Bond and Snoopy both played as do billionaires Bill Gates and Warren Buffett (who sometimes play as partners).July 21, 2015: Signage for the Kustard Korner in Egg Harbor City, on the way to the Jersey Shore. President Ronald Reagan designated July as National Ice Cream Month and the third Sunday of the month.July 14, 2025: Fans watch a game at the Maple Shade Babe Ruth Field, part of the 20th Annual Franny Friel Summer Classic, on a cool(er) night with a refreshing breeze, the weekend before the MLB All-Star Game (with Kyle Schwarber the lone Phillies representative).
The buyers: Brandon Balcom, 44, vice president of product operations at BCD Travel; Dane Cox, 39, owner of Dane Cox State Farm Insurance Agency
The house: A 3,767-square-foot, ranch-style home in Collingswood with three bedrooms and three baths built in 1955
The price: Listed for $695,000; purchased for $735,000
The agent: Amy Telfair, Telfair Collective
The Ask: Brandon Balcom and Dane Cox were not looking to buy a new house. They had just purchased a fixer-upper on a beautiful oversized lot in 2021. “It was in the perfect spot,” Balcom said, “and they always say, ‘you can’t move your house.’”
But it turned out their perfectly located house needed to be rebuilt from the foundation up and the lengthy zoning process was wearing them down. Two years into a renovation with no end in sight, their friend,real estate agent, Amy Telfair, suggested they buy a new house instead. In fact, she knew just the one.
“We chuckled and rolled our eyes, because she’s a Realtor with vested interest,” said Balcom. But the couple agreed to check out the listing anyway.
Dane Cox and Brandon Balcom in their living room with their beloved corgy.
The appeal: The house was designed in the midcentury style they loved, and, unlike their current place, it didn’t need any work. “We started dreaming very quickly about skipping all these steps,” said Balcom. The new house even had a pool, which Balcom said was part of a “years-down-the-line vision” for their current home.
Balcom’s favorite thing was that it was perfect for entertaining, from the bar in the finished basement to the grand fireplace in the living room. When Cox heard his husband gasp at the fireplace, he knew the deal was done.
“I was like, ‘There’s nothing I can say at this point that’s going to convince him otherwise,’” Cox said.
The search: To get ahead of other potential buyers, the couple used a trick they learned while selling their previous house in Minneapolis: they brought their inspector to the showing.
“We wanted to know when we left that day if there was an issue,” said Balcom. Knocking out the inspection early allowed them to waive it as a contingency, which the couple knew from experience would appeal to the sellers.
The kitchen of the couple’s home, which is designed in the midcentury style they love.
The couple’s inspector gave them the go-ahead, so they went to Cox’s office and “started scheming,” said Balcom.
The deal: The couple called Telfair, whose first instinct was to get the house off the market. She didn’t want the sellers to show it over the weekend, so she asked what it would take to get the listing taken down that day. They requested an all-cash offer of $735,000 — $40,000 above the asking price. Cox and Balcom agreed, and a legal contract that required the seller to cancel upcoming showings was speedily signed.
The money: Balcom and Cox didn’t have to hand over $750,000 in cash the day they signed the contract. They just needed to “give up any contingency on the need for financing to buy the home,” said Balcom. Documentation showing that they could pay in full would suffice.
They had over $400,000 in savings and brokerage accounts that they could show as proof of funds, and a letter from their parents confirming another $300,000 was available if needed. “You have to have a promissory note or something from your family that says, ‘I will give this amount for the purchase of the home,” Balcom said.
One of the main selling points was the giant fireplace in the living room.
But they didn’t end up borrowing money from their parents. “We just needed it for a moment to show we’ve got cash,” Balcom said.
Instead, they took out a home-equity loan on their fixer upper. “Between when we signed the contract and when we closed, we had time to pull the equity out of our existing house,” said Balcom. The loan provided them with enough cash to cover the remaining cost of their new home.
The move: Balcom said the actual close was anticlimactic. The sellers were out of town so they pre-signed everything for the couple, who left for a family vacation the day after the paperwork was done.
By the time they returned, the sellers had officially moved out. But they left several items that excited Balcom and Cox — including a pool table and a hot tub.
The couple moved in over two months, taking their time to bring each room “online,” said Balcom. “Once we got the furniture, it was like, ‘OK, now we’re using this room.’”
Any reservations? Balcom was surprised that several of the house’s nice-looking appliances were 20 years old. The previous owners “kept such good care of things,” he said.
Some amenities, like the infrared sauna with wireless speakers in the basement, were actually pretty old.
To listen to music, Balcom has to use the sauna’s built-in CD player, because the speakers were made before Bluetooth technology was common. “It’s like a circa-2000s car stereo,” he said, laughing.
Balcom was excited that the previous owners left the hot tub, even though it only lasted a few months.
The hot tub is 20 years old, too. “It ended up failing at the end of winter,” Balcom said. “I was hoping we’d get two years out of it.”
Life after close: Cox and Balcom haven’t changed anything since they moved in.
“This house doesn’t need anything,” said Cox. Indeed, that’s why they bought it.
Philly’s favorite running path is at it again. A “chasm”-sized sinkhole has swallowed part of the Schuylkill River Trail between Race and JFK — big enough, officials say, that you could almost park a car in it. (“Almost” feels like a challenge.)
The Schuylkill Banks crew fenced it off and called in Parks & Rec, the Water Department, and engineers — basically the full Avengers lineup of Philly infrastructure — to figure out what caused the hole and how to patch it before joggers start treating it like a new obstacle course.
The Schuylkill Trail might be cursed. Every year it’s something — floods, fallen trees, now this. Until it’s fixed, cyclists and runners are being detoured, which in Philly terms means “good luck.”
In Task, Robbie (Tom Pelphrey) uses Sixpenny Creek Quarry as a meeting place.
Delco goes “rural”…at least according to the NYT — C-
Somehow, the New York Times looked at Delco — home of Villanova, Swarthmore, and approximately 47 Wawas — and decided, “Ah yes, rural America.” Because nothing says “farm country” like the Blue Route at rush hour and a Target every three miles.
To be fair, Task creator Brad Ingelsby does paint parts of Delco as working-class, gritty, and hollowed-out, which, yeah, that’s real. But “rural”? Come on. The county has fewer farms than vape shops. The only livestock most Delco residents see are on a roast pork sandwich.
Still, the show does get something right: that weird in-between space so many towns around Philly live in — not city, not country, just post-industrial limbo where people are hustling to hang on. It’s not the backwoods. It’s just… us. Blue-collar, blunt, and way too online to ever be called rural again.
Philly’s 52-week flex — A-
For America’s 250th, Philly’s not settling for a parade — we’re throwing a 52-week-long brag about how we basically invented everything. Every week in 2026 will spotlight something that started here: the first hospital, zoo, flag, computer, hot-air balloon, even the penitentiary (because nothing says “city of firsts” like also being the first to lock people up).
It’s peak Philly — proud, weird, and wildly specific. Some of these firsts are legitimately world-changing (first medical school, first abolitionist society), while others are pure “only in Philly” energy (first Slinky, first ice-cream soda). The lineup’s got range. We went from inventing democracy to inventing dessert.
The ‘Six-Seven’ confusion — C-
Philly might’ve given the world democracy, the cheesesteak, and now… “six-seven,” a phrase that means absolutely nothing and somehow everything to a generation of teens who can’t stop saying it. It possibly started with Kensington rapper Skrilla’s song “Doot Doot (6 7)” and spiraled into TikToks, classrooms, and apparently South Park.
It’s not code, it’s not deep — it’s just two numbers. Maybe it’s a street, maybe it’s a mindset, maybe it’s proof that the internet’s broken our brains. Teachers hate it, parents are confused, and kids are out here saying “six-seven” like it’s a personality trait.
Still, if you hear it echoing down Broad Street, just nod and say it back. Six-seven. Whatever that means.
Philly drama doesn’t get juicier than this. Someone plastered a flyer around Fishtown calling out Two Robbers for serving a sad, gray burger — complete with a date stamp and the caption, “This is literally the burger that came out.”Reddit, of course, lost its mind.
Comments ranged from pure joy (“I f***in love love love this level of petty”) to the perfectly Philly (“This is what you get for ordering a burger at a craft seltzeria”). One guy even chimed in with, “They got robbed — by two robbers.” Another declared the poster was “doing the Lord’s work.”
But plot twist: the burger wasn’t theirs. The photo was actually from 9GAG, posted seven years ago under the title “Nasty Burger.” The owner jumped into Reddit like a man defending his honor, posting receipts side-by-side — the fake, the meme, and their actual burger, which, to be fair, looks great — and calling the whole stunt “diabolical.”
Now the thread’s full of conspiracy theories that the whole thing was a genius marketing stunt (“If it is, it worked on me”) and locals promising to stop by just to try the burger. So whether this was sabotage, performance art, or Philly’s pettiest PR move — Burgergate proves one thing: in this town, we don’t do calm, we do chaos. And we’ll probably Yelp about it after.
Philadelphia Eagles defensive end Brandon Graham during practice at the NovaCare Complex on Wednesday, Oct. 22, 2025 in Philadelphia.
Brandon Graham’s encore — A+
Philly’s loudest legend just couldn’t stay away. After seven whole months of “retirement,” Brandon Graham is back in midnight green for his 16th season, saying he’s still got “juice left.” The Eagles desperately needed both sacks and smiles, and no one brings either like BG.
At 37, rookies call him “the OG,” veterans call him the engine, and everyone calls him the guy who won’t stop talking in practice. “You thought you wasn’t gonna have to deal with me?” he said on his podcast. That’s the guy who strip-sacked Brady — not a man easing into retirement.
And honestly? The timing couldn’t be better. Missed tackles, blown assignments, no spark — the Eagles’ defense has been ugly. BG can’t fix everything, but he can sure as hell remind the Birds what fight looks like.
A rendering of the garage planned for Fishtown, looking west towards Center City.
Philly’s year of the parking garage — D+
In a city that loves to say it’s all about bikes, buses, and tree-lined streets, somehow 2025 has turned into the Year of the Parking Garage. Three new standalone garages are in the works — in Fishtown, University City, and Grays Ferry — because apparently we looked at the skyline and thought, “You know what’s missing? More concrete boxes for cars.”
Developers say people need somewhere to park near all the shiny new apartments, but urbanists are screaming into their reusable coffee cups. We’re talking a 1,000-car garage from CHOP (in a neighborhood already struggling with air quality), a 495-space one in University City (for a city lab and staff), and a Fishtown “garage-with-a-view” that’s trying to make rooftop parking sound sexy.
Parking pros say it’s a losing game — sky-high taxes, slim profits, and way too many empty spaces already. Even Parkway Corp. and E-Z Park, the kings of concrete, have looked at the numbers and said, “Good luck, you’ll need it.”
It’s the most Philly thing ever: everyone agrees it’s a bad idea, but someone’s still building it.
Sixers guard VJ Edgecombe shoots the basketball against Minnesota Timberwolves guard Jaylen Clark during a preseason game on Friday, Oct. 17, 2025 in Philadelphia.
Sixers start with a spark — B
Nobody in Philly was expecting the Sixers to look this good out the gate. Rookie VJ Edgecombe dropped 34 points in his debut — the third-highest in NBA history — and helped the Sixers steal a 117-116 win over the Celtics. That’s right: Wilt, LeBron, and now a 20-year-old kid who apparently sleeps like a baby before facing Boston in the Garden.
Edgecombe didn’t just show up — he looked like he’d been here for years. Calm, confident, and already saying the kind of humble stuff that makes you want to buy his jersey before Christmas. Tyrese Maxey poured in 40, and even his gentle clowning (“77 definitely got scared at the free-throw line”) couldn’t hide the fact that Philly might actually have a backcourt worth believing in.
It’s still early, but this team has something it hasn’t had in forever: fun. For once, the Sixers aren’t pretending to be contenders — they’re just hooping. No melodrama, no birthday banners about Daryl Morey being a liar, no Teletubby coats. Just fast breaks, fresh legs, and a rookie who already has his name next to Wilt’s.
We’ve been hurt before, so no one’s saying “This is the year.” But after one game, it’s hard not to feel a little something.
When you think of fall in the mountains, the quintessential image that probably comes to mind is of Jim Thorpe. Even if you’ve never set foot in this petite Pennsylvania town — wrapped like an amphitheater in a vertical forest that changes color by the day — photos of it have become the calling card of the Poconos, luring day-trippers and weekenders long before ski season begins.
Named for the multi-sport athlete and the first Native American to win Olympic gold, the town flares out on either side of the Lehigh River in checkerboards of boutiques, breweries and Victorian manors. There’s plenty to do within its small footprint, and the rest of the Poconos waits right at its doorstep.
The Lehigh Gorge Scenic Railway is known for its Autumn Leaf train excursion.
Ride: Lehigh Gorge Scenic Railway
Imagine gliding through a kaleidoscope of gold, russet and amber leaves. That’s why the ticket booth for the Lehigh Gorge Scenic Railway opens early — 7 a.m. on weekends, 9 a.m. on weekdays — for its wildly popular Autumn Leaf train excursion. Tickets are sold only in person, the day of, so plan ahead. The 45-minute round trip offers stunning views best seen (and photographed) from the open-air carriages.
A five-minute walk from the station, the Harry Packer Mansion counts quirky arched dormers, a copper-topped bell tower, and a grand sandstone veranda among its many eccentricities. Built in 1874 by railroad tycoon Asa Packer as a wedding gift for his son, Harry, the mansion (and adjacent carriage house) features eight rooms with ornate woodwork and vintage décor. Check in on the second or fourth weekend of each month for an immersive murder mystery, where costumed characters bring the mansion to life.
About 20 minutes east of Jim Thorpe sits Pocono Raceway, the legendary 2.5-mile track that’s hosted NASCAR races since 1971. For an adrenaline rush, hop into a Dodge Charger Hellcat for a ride-along with a professional driver around the “Tricky Triangle,” hitting 60 mph in just over three seconds.
A raceway and organic farm might seem like unlikely neighbors, but the Poconos are full of surprises. One of the largest regenerative agricultural projects in North America, Pocono Organics has a can’t-miss café with an epic grass-fed cheeseburger, a beet salad dressed with tahini, harissa and pistachios, and house-baked pastries worth saving for the morning drive home.
📍1015 Long Pond Rd., Blakeslee, Pa. 18610
Shop: Downtown Jim Thorpe
Back in town, stroll down Broadway, the main drag lined with boutiques that feel far more cosmopolitan than you’d expect in a mountain village. Browse plus-size consignment at BawdyPlus, bespoke stationery at Somersault, indie paperbacks at Sellers Books & Art, and 18th-century curiosities at Antiques on Broadway.
📍77 Broadway, Jim Thorpe, Pa. 18229 (BawdyPlus);📍65 Broadway, Jim Thorpe, Pa. 18229 (Sellers Books & Art);📍52 Broadway, Jim Thorpe, PA 18229 (Antiques on Broadway)
Drink: Bright Path Brewing
Cross the bridge over the Lehigh River to the east side of town for pre-dinner drinks at Bright Path Brewing, a relaxed taproom with forest-green walls and pipe-legged tables. Bright Path has been brewing German-accented beers since 2022; the smoked Maibock may be meant for spring (“Mai” = May), but its subtle smokiness pairs perfectly with crisp autumn air.
📍1215 North St., Jim Thorpe, Pa. 18229
Dine: Café Arielle at the Stabin Museum
End the evening with art and ambiance. Step into The Stabin Museum, where artist Victor Stabin’s genre-bending naturalist paintings line the walls, before dining at the adjacent Café Arielle. Red-curried salmon and roasted duck with blueberry gastrique fill the tables of this stone-and-wood hideaway, glowing like a lantern in the mountain night.
When it’s getting chilly out, I want spaghetti, red sauce, and something fried — with no frills. At Villa di Roma, I ordered the eggplant parmesan and that’s exactly what I got: four crisp breaded discs smothered in mozzarella, served over spaghetti and house-made marinara. Behind me two women shared four martinis as they dug into their pasta. No matter what you order, the vibes of Villa di Roma (one of the picks in The Inquirer’s inaugural edition of The 76), are simply perfect, white tablecloths, drop ceilings, warm service, and all. It feels like a restaurant full of regulars, and I’m ready to become one. Villa di Roma, 934 S. Ninth Street, Philadelphia, PA 19147, 215-592-1295, villadiroma.com
— Zoe Greenberg
A grilled corzetti pasta coin cradles a slice of American wagyu beef and Cooper Sharp foam at Vetri Cucina, where this mini-cheesesteak bite was featured on Vetri’s monthly pasta omakase tasting.
Grilled corzetti pasta with wagyu and Cooper Sharp foam at Vetri Cucina
There’s a new wagyu cheesesteak in town unlike any other, and it has redefined the possibilities of the fancy steak genre in one unforgettable bite.
This creation was just one of 15 incredible courses at Marc Vetri’s monthly “pasta omakase,” a chef’s-counter feast reserved for six lucky people inspired by the small-bite tasting meals of Japan, where Vetri operates a restaurant in Kyoto. Instead of sushi, though, Vetri’s meal centers around creative pasta whimsies: tagliolini with uni and caviar in sake butter, or a culurgione made with carob dough wrapped around duck confit and duck X.O. in an intensely reduced sauce brightened with citrus — essentially duck à l’orange as a dumpling.
Each dish was a jewel of craft and surprise, and a reminder why Vetri remains one of America’s undisputed pasta kings. But he’s also a Philly guy through and through, so one of the most unexpected highlights was reserved for the end of the meal when a small coal-fired grill was brought out. Vetri flashed some stamped pasta coins known as corzetti over the flames. Then came sheer slices of ultra-rich wagyu beef, which he seared and layered atop the pasta with a roasted onion and foamy flourish of aerated Cooper Sharp cheese.
Cinched together with a toothpick, I popped it into my mouth like a mini-taco made of pasta. The familiar flavors of Philly’s favorite street food unfolded with uncommon richness, but also a delicate touch that rendered every element vivid and clear.
Of course, who knows when this wonder will appear again? Vetri’s omakases have remained a scratch pad lab for the chef to experiment with new ideas. The menus are ever-changing and, at $300-plus a person, they’re a major splurge. The corzetti cheesesteak bites received such a rousing response, however, Vetri is considering adding them as an amuse-bouche to the regular menu at Vetri, or perhaps some future event. Vetri Cucina, 1312 Spruce St., 215-732-3478, vetricucina.com
— Craig LaBan
Chicken slider on the happy hour menu at Village Whiskey, 118 S. 20th St.
Hot ’n’ spicy chicken slider at Village Whiskey
Everybody knows you go to Village Whiskey for the burger — if not the regulation Village, then the signature Whiskey King with blue cheese, maple-bourbon glazed onions, applewood bacon, and seared foie gras. But when it’s happy hour and you just need a little somethin’ to balance a shot or a beer, you can’t beat the hot ’n’ spicy chicken slider, still $5. It’s a cute little chunk of brined and fried chicken thigh, atop a thick dill pickle chip, doused in “buffalo aioli,” and sandwiched between a wee toasted sesame bun. A toothpick spears a second pickle chip and holds the sandwich together. Hot ’n’ spicy? Not really, but it hits the spot and is gone in three bites, plus a chomp or two for the second pickle chip. Village Whiskey, 118 S. 20th St., 215-665-1088, villagewhiskey.com. Available only at happy hour, 4 to 6 p.m. daily.
— Michael Klein
Carbon Copy vanilla soft serve swirled with blood orange olive oil and sea salt.
Blood orange olive oil-topped soft serve at Carbon Copy
As much as I miss the sticker-laden grime of Dock Street’s former West Philly location, there’s a lot to love at the taproom that took its place — say, the in-house beer and wine, the fried artichokes with horseradish sour cream dip, Wednesday night quizzo.
On a recent visit, I kept it simple by ordering the always-sublime pepperoni pizza (shoutout to that wood-burning oven) and a dry Cayuga white. The standout, though, was dessert: vanilla soft serve swirled with blood orange-infused olive oil and sea salt. This airy vegan treat cleanses the palate after a heavy meal of bread, cheese, and red sauce. It isn’t too sweet, but the blood orange brings its own juicy flavor kick. Just be prepared for the occasional too-salty spoonful.
Note: If you’re feeling more nostalgic than Italian, consider the adorable baseball hat sundae, topped with whipped cream and sprinkles. Carbon Copy, 701 S. 50th St., carboncopyphilly.com
I should have read the fine print before I agreed to participate in a recent “Hoagie Throwdown” at Other Half Brewing in Fishtown, produced by my friends at the Delicious City Podcast. I assumed they’d drafted me simply to be a judge and taste their lineup of sandwiches from 20-plus restaurants vying to be Philly’s hoagie champ.
Two wrestlers, including one in a hot dog suit, tussle at a match held at Other Half Brewing in Fishtown where hoagies were also in competition.
But I was not meant to praise hoagies. I was summoned to the wrestling arena at Other Half Brewing to make them, something I’d actually never done before in a city where the meat slicer’s whirring hum is the lunchtime lullaby at a thousand neighborhood delis.
“Sorry if I wasn’t completely clear in my early communication,” said Eli Kulp after I’d reached out with concern a few days before the event. The former Fork and High Street chef-turned-podcaster thought it would be hilarious for me to participate in an Iron Chef-style “celebrity” hoagie-making scrum inside a wrestling ring against two still to-be-determined foes. “We want this to be fun for you.”
I couldn’t back out now. But I also wasn’t going down without a fight —and I needed help. A hoagie whisperer. A cold cuts QB coach. A seasoned pro to train me in the sweet science of hoagie-making.
I knew just who to call: Cara Jo Castellino, the sandwich queen of Fishtown’s Castellino’s Italian Market.
The owners of Castellino’s Italian Market in Fishtown, Matthew Barrow and Cara Jo Castellino, prepare to run Inquirer Restaurant Critic Craig LaBan through his paces at Hoagie Boot Camp.The exterior of Castellino’s in Philadelphia.
“You should come over to the shop … and make a test hoagie if you’d like to practice,” she told me.
Hoagie boot camp? That is exactly what I needed! Sign me up, Cara Jo!
Two days before the event, I stepped inside her little market at the corner of East Palmer and East Thompson Streets, and inhaled the heady aroma of cured meats and pickled peppers. Castellino was waiting. She handed me a black apron. I nervously tied it on as she led me into the narrow space behind the tidy counter, where a friendly crew was already in the lunch-rush groove: her husband and co-owner Matthew Barrow peeling sheer pink rounds of spicy capicola off the slicer; Pat Caviness hand-slicing mountains of ripe tomatoes; A.J. Jones busily assembling hoagies on the board; and Derrick Bobb (“We call him Bobb”) working the register with his unflappable charm.
Hoagie architecture 101
The life cycle of every Italian hoagie begins and ends with olive oil, Castellino says, but be careful to stripe the bread side-to-side (as opposed to lengthwise) so it doesn’t pool in the crease of the roll’s hinge and break: “You’ve got to protect the hoagie’s hinge at all costs … When your hoagie’s hinge breaks, it’s very sad,” she says.
The sandwich is then built atop the bottom of the roll, so that when it’s closed, every bite brings a consistent layer of each ingredient.
More roll protection comes from provolone rounds layered down like shingles. Castellino prefers mild provolone because its creaminess buffers against the salty meats to come. She deftly forms the slices of soppressata and mortadella into rosettes, whose bouncy pink curls trap flavor-boosting oxygen between their folds. “You don’t want a dense wad of meat,” she says, arranging gossamer kerchiefs of imported prosciutto over top for the finish.
“Three is the ideal number,” she says, referring to the quantity of different meats preferred for contrasting flavors and textures.
Castellino’s fingers move swiftly atop each hoagie, layering the tomato rounds, sculpting tufts of arugula (prized for its peppery bite and durability), then seasoning it all with more oil and red vinegar “like a salad.”
“Tuck her in!” she says, deftly coaxing the ingredients deeper into the roll with the serrated knife’s blade, slicing the sandwich in half and then rolling it inside paper like a lovingly swaddled baby. It’s fastened shut with a piece of tape. Tuck, roll, snap! Tuck, roll, snap! She makes it look so easy.
The meticulous layers of an Italian hoagie are revealed at Castellino’s Italian Market in Fishtown, built by “trainee” Inquirer restaurant critic Craig LaBan.
My turn. A mess. Too much olive oil immediately sogs up my hinge. My provolone is layered the wrong direction. My cold-cut rosettes are more crumpled balls than fluffy flowers. I bunch up the tomatoes, leave too many inedible stems on the banana peppers, then pile on so much arugula it looks like I’m trying to tame a wild bush. And whoa … the vinegar comes out in a gush!
“Once you do 100 of them, you’ll get the hang of it,” deadpans Castellino.
She patiently coaches me through another classic Italian; the fiery Adronos layered with spicy meats, peppercorn Asiago, and cherry peppers; the mellow Franklin with turkey, cheddar, and sweet bacon jam; a Caprese with milky mozzarella, juicy tomatoes, sweet balsamic, and silky ripples of prosciutto. Only by the last one do I finally manage to wrap a sandwich without half its crust hanging out. I feel encouraged but humbled.
“I don’t think I’m cut out for the lunchtime pressure of this hoagie counter,” I say as I gratefully hand back my apron.
“Nah, you absolutely killed it!” says Castellino, who, like any good coach knows just when to pump up her student for a big moment. She offers a parting secret: “Make exactly what you want to eat. People can feel the love and affection that goes into making a hoagie you yourself would want to devour.”
Three hoagies from Castellino’s Italian Market built by “trainee” Inquirer Restaurant during a stint at Hoagie Boot Camp.The Hoagie at Castellino’s in Philadelphia on Sept. 10, 2024. Food Styling by Emilie Fosnocht
Sandwich smackdown
I left hoagie boot camp with some genuine new skills. But would they be enough to spin gold from whatever ingredients awaited me on the competition table? Eli Kulp, channeling his best Vince McMahon impresario swagger, encouraged me to bring my own secret ingredient for added assurance: “If you’re not cheating in wrestling, you’re not trying!” I took the advice to heart as I stashed a few surprises in a small cloth bag that I hid beneath my black cape.
I arrived to the arena incognito, my face obscured by a Zorro mask and a wide-brimmed hat. Kulp’s words rang loudly in my head as I stood ringside and watched the Pro Wrestling Entertainment talent spar with an unlikely food theme: A bug-eyed, psychotic pizzaiolo named Luigi Primo blinded his competitor with spinning rubber pizza dough, while the Sandman (of Extreme Championship Wrestling fame) whacked the same guy across the back with a kendo stick with hoagie rolls taped around it. I watched a large man in a hot dog suit soar from the ropes to flatten his sweaty foe in the middle of that ring, sending the beer-soaked crowd of several hundred fans into a bloodthirsty roar.
To say I was a tad apprehensive as the hoagie table was set up in the middle of that same ring — with a wooden board of mystery ingredients for my own match — would be an understatement.
Reluctantly, I stepped into the ring with my competitors, the “cannoli-smashing bar-knuckle brawler” also known as FeedingTimeTV (aka Dave Wesolowski) and influencer “Doug _Chase_U,” who instantly began tossing our prosciutto into the crowd.
The ensuing mad scramble for ingredients was only the first of my concerns. I really began to sweat beneath my mask when Chase_U suddenly tagged inone of Philly’s best hoagie pros — Jason Okdeh, aka “Gabagool_Papi” of Farina di Vita — to commandeer his roll.
Only lightly shook, I snapped back to the ingredients before me, remembered my training, and stayed focused on my fundamentals. I quickly gathered three different meats, provolone, tomatoes, onions, banana peppers, and lettuce. But … where was the olive oil?!
The table was set with bottles of brown mustard, vinegar, and two kinds of mayo, including truffled mayo — the use of which should trigger automatic disqualification. But building my entry withoutolive oil, the life-giving elixir for any hoagie, would be like trying to play a stadium concert with your amp unplugged.
That’s when I knew it was time. I opened my cape, reached into my bag, and unveiled my secret weapon to the crowd: a jar of hoagie relish.
The secret ingredient
I lathered the spicy pepper spread on both sides of my rolls, aiming to impress the judges with a flash of juicy heat while also protecting the hinge. I tucked in my chosen ingredients, rolled my hoagies into shape, and delivered my tray to the judges: chef Bobby Saritsoglou of Stina (the recipient of multiple favorable restaurant reviews by yours truly), anonymous Instagram food critic Djour.philly, and Maria Maggio of Food Trade News.
They nibbled and scribbled while I waited, no longer feeling the squeeze. But suddenly I heard my name: I was the winner, with just two points more than Cannoli Crusher Dave.
Djour praised my hoagie’s “great ratio of salad to meat to wet fixins … (which) may or may not have been legally added.”
“We wanted to celebrate the Philadelphia hoagie,” wrote Saritsoglou. “And yours checked all the classic boxes (minus the olive oil, lol). My only regret was not jumping into that ring.”
Craig! Craig! Craig! Craig!
Was this crowd seriously chanting for me? Yes, they were! The emcee was holding a trophy high and calling back me in, and so I bounded up between the ropes, careful not to trip on my cape, and began babbling through a delirious ringside interview to recap the battle. Was I “having fun?” Oh yeah, you bet, as I took a tart and hoppy swig of Other Half’s Yuzu Queen from the chalice of my trophy.
It only felt real, though, when I spotted Castellino and her husband Matt in the crowd visibly cheering. I leaned into the mic and publicly thanked my hoagie whisperer in a Stallone-like croak of joy: “We did it, Cara Jo!”
It’s best for all I now graciously leave the sandwich-making stage to the professionals. No way would I ever wish to replace old favorites like Castellino’s, Lil’ Nicks, Pastificio, Farina di Vita, or upstart chef Reuben “Reuby” Asaram, whose hot pink “Undertikka” roll stuffed with Indian chicken tikka salad won the pro title — a reminder that Philly’s creative hoagie life force is infinite.
But for this one glorious afternoon, I put my critical cold cuts on the line. I paid tribute to Philly’s sandwich gods, fought to the crusty finish, and earned the title of “Hoagie Hero.”
Inquirer Restaurant Critic holds his “Hero of the Hoagie” trophy high inside the ring after winning a celebrity hoagie making competition held by the Delicious City Podcast at Other Half Brewing in Fishtown.
There was a time — back when The Inquirer had multiple suburban bureaus — that photographers like myself who were assigned to the main newsroom on North Broad Street worked only in the city. (We’re now more like ride share drivers, going everywhere.)
So I walked a lot more to cover news and events in Center City, and more often stumbled into things and sights that piqued my curiosity.
Things like a long line.
Visitors queue up to get a glimpse through a single window in the Liberty Bell Center Oct. 12, 2025 while the building is closed due to the federal government shutdown.
Years ago seeing one likely meant unhoused people were waiting as church folks or outreach advocates served dinner on the street. Or they were waiting for concert tickets or movie premiers (Beanie Babies?).
I remember once questioning someone standing in a blocks-long line along Walnut Street and was flabbergasted to learn a new sneaker was dropping.
Or for a device that combined a portable media player, a cell phone, and an internet communicator.
Mayor John F. Street reads jokes aloud from his Blackberry as he waits with fellow technology enthusiasts in an alley off 16th Street to purchase an iPhone at the At&T store Jun. 29, 2007. There were two models available that day: a 4GB for $499 and the 8GB for $599.
Mayor Street was the third in line to buy the first-generation iPhone 2G launched that day. He said he arrived around 3:30 a.m. Leonard F. Johnson (far right) at the front of the line, arrived 36 hours ahead of the 6:00 p.m. official release.
Hizzoner defended the time he spent in line, saying he got work done and kept in touch with city officials on the issues of the day using his Blackberry to send emails and make phone calls.
I had no idea what the yellow shipping container was when I saw it next to City Hall last weekend. Even after I walked over and watched those at the front of the long line take their selfies inside a retro Philly diner-esque booth tableau.
I watched it all unfold, along with others, asking ourselves what was going on. Nobody knew. Except those in line.
It was the last stop on the Pleasing Express Line that ended its nation-wide tour in Philadelphia.
Followers on social media were invited to, “Climb on to immerse yourself in the worlds of Pleasing Fragrance, Big Lip, and exclusive treasures,” including a spin of the “Freebie Wheel,” for products of the unisex lifestyle brand Pleasing, created by former One Direction singer Harry Styles.
A spontaneous walk around Center City can build for me the same kind of excitement felt by those waiting in lines. Except they know their eventual reward. Mine comes from the anticipation of not knowing what’s around a corner.
And that is exactly what makes street photography worth the walk – and sometimes even the wait.
Since 1998 a black-and-white photo has appeared every Monday in staff photographer Tom Gralish’s “Scene Through the Lens” photo column in the print editions of The Inquirer’s local news section. Here are the most recent, in color:
October 11, 2025: Can you find the Phillie Phanatic, as he leaves a “Rally for Red October Bus Tour” stop in downtown Westmont, N.J. just before the start of the NLDS? There’s always next year and he’ll be back. The 2026 Spring Training schedule has yet to be announced by Major League Baseball, but Phillies pitchers and catchers generally first report to Clearwater, Florida in mid-February.October 6. 2025: Fluorescent orange safety cone, 28 in, Poly Ethylene. Right: Paint Torch (detail) Claes Oldenburg, 2011, Steel, Fiberglass Reinforced Plastic, Gelcoat and Polyurethane. (Gob of paint, 6 ft. Main sculpture, 51 ft.). Lenfest Plaza at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts on North Broad Street, across from the Convention Center.September 29, 2025: A concerned resident who follows Bucks County politics, Kevin Puls records the scene before a campaign rally for State Treasurer Stacy Garrity, the GOP candidate for governor. His T-shirt is “personal clickbait” with a url to direct people to the website for The Travis Manion Foundation created to empower veterans and families of fallen heroes. The image on the shirts is of Greg Stocker, one of the hosts of Kayal and Company, “A fun and entertaining conservative spin on Politics, News, and Sports,” mornings on Talk Radio 1210 WPHT.September 22, 2025: A shadow is cast by “The Cock’s Comb,” created by Alexander “Sandy” Calder in 1960, is the first work seen by visitors arriving at Calder Gardens, the new sanctuary on the Ben Franklin Parkway. The indoor and outdoor spaces feature the mobiles, stabiles, and paintings of Calder, who was born in Philadelphia in 1898, the third generation of the family’s artistic legacy in the city.September 15, 2025: Department of Streets Director of Operations Thomas Buck leaves City Hall following a news conference marking the activation of Automated Speed Enforcement (ASE) cameras on the Broad Street corridor – one the city’s busiest and most dangerous roads. The speed limit on the street, also named PA Route 611, is 25 mph.September 8, 2025: Middle schoolers carry a boat to the water during their first outing in a learn-to-row program with the Cooper Junior Rowing Club, at the Camden County Boathouse on the Cooper River in Pennsauken. September 1, 2025: Trumpet player Rome Leone busks at City Hall’s Easr Portal. The Philadelphia native plays many instruments, including violin and piano, which he started playing when he was 3 years old. He tells those who stop to talk that his grandfather played with Billie Holiday, Duke Ellington, Nina Simone, and Dizzy Gillespie. August 25, 2025: Bicycling along on East Market Street.August 18, 2025: Just passing through Center City; another extraterrestrial among us. August 11, 2025: Chris Brown stows away Tongue, the mascot for a new hard iced tea brand, after wearing the lemon costume on a marketing stroll through the Historic District. Trenton-based Crooked Tea is a zero-sugar alcoholic tea brand founded by the creator of Bai, the antioxidant-infused coconut-flavored water, and launched in April with former Eagles defensive end Brandon Graham as a partner.August 4,2025: Shanna Chandler and her daughters figure out their plans for a morning spent in Independence National Historical Park on the map in the Independence Visitor Center. The women (from left) Lora, 20; Shanna; Lenna, 17; and Indigo, 29, were stopping on their way home to Richmond, Virginia after vacationing in Maine. The last time they were all in Philadelphia Shanna was pregnant with Lenna. July 28, 2025: Louis-Amaury Beauchet, a professional bridge player from Brittany, France, takes a break between game sessions in an empty ballroom during the North American Bridge Championships at the Center City Marriott with some 4000 people in town over week of the tournament. The American Contract Bridge League is hosting the week of meetings and tournaments with bridge players from all over the world. The ACBL is the largest bridge organization in North America, with over 120,000 members (down from around 165,000 before COVID). Bridge draws players of all ages and walks of life – fictional characters James Bond and Snoopy both played as do billionaires Bill Gates and Warren Buffett (who sometimes play as partners).July 21, 2015: Signage for the Kustard Korner in Egg Harbor City, on the way to the Jersey Shore. President Ronald Reagan designated July as National Ice Cream Month and the third Sunday of the month.July 14, 2025: Fans watch a game at the Maple Shade Babe Ruth Field, part of the 20th Annual Franny Friel Summer Classic, on a cool(er) night with a refreshing breeze, the weekend before the MLB All-Star Game (with Kyle Schwarber the lone Phillies representative).July 7, 2025: Caroline Small wheels her two year-old great-granddaughter atop a bag of garbage as she carts it to a drop-off site at the Tustin Playground at 60th St. and W Columbia Ave. as residential trash collection stopped when a strike was called by District Council 33. Small lives just around the corner and said of the toddler, “she was just walking too slow.”
The house: a 1,380-square-foot 1950s twin with three bedrooms and 2½ baths
The price: $255,000
The ask: Kim Sephes didn’t want to live in a house attached to her father’s church anymore. It “felt strange,” she said, living there after he passed away in 2019.
So in 2022, she and her husband, Matthew, began searching for a home for their family of eight. Safety, location, and a driveway were top priorities. They needed four bedrooms and dreamed of a backyard.
The search: At first, the couple searched in Northeast Philadelphia, where they found a lot of nice houses, but were worried about their kids walking around safely without supervision. They expanded their search to Mount Airy, but the competition was stiff. They made offers on four houses only to get outbid every time.
“It was a crazy housing market where people were offering cash offers left and right,” Sephes said.
Soon after, the family “stepped on the gas” with their search and found a house they loved in August 2022.
The appeal: The house was move-in ready. Only the kitchen needed updating.
But they had to make a few compromises.
It was three bedrooms, not four — but it had a finished basement that Sephes says could be converted. It was a twin, not their preferred single, home — but it was attached to the corner house.
“At least we weren’t in the middle of the block,” said Sephes. Most importantly, it was in a great section of Mount Airy, and it had a back patio.
Kim Sephes with children (from left) Darius, 8, and Solomon, 4, on the steps of their home. She is carrying 1-month-old Adam.
The deal: They offered $5,000 over the asking price of $250,000. The house attracted several offers from investors but “the sellers really wanted to sell it to a family,” said Sephes. “Our real estate agent went hard trying to convince them to sell it to us, because they did have a cash offer on the table for more than what we were going to offer.”
In the end, the Sepheses’ offer was accepted and, after a little back and forth about the inspection, they sealed the deal with a $5,000 non-refundable earnest money deposit.
The money: The couple saved $18,000 for a down payment, socking away the previous two years’ tax returns and parts of their paychecks. For three years, they put a little bit away every time they got paid.
“I was so determined,” said Sephes.
They also got a $15,000 forgivable loan through the Neighborhood Lift program, which they do not have to pay back as long as they stay in the house for 10 years.
Through their lender, Fulton Bank, they secured an additional $2,000 grant and a Federal Housing Authority (FHA) mortgage with a 5% interest rate.
The Neighborhood Lift grant “helped get us in the home,” Sephes said. Without it, they “would’ve qualified for something way less.”
The move: The Sepheses closed on Sept. 26 and started moving right away.
To ensure they had enough time to move, they paid October rent. However, they were officially out of the house within the first week, so the church gave them the full month’s rent back. “I really appreciated that because they didn’t have to do that,” Sephes said.
Any reservations? The only issue with the house is that “it’s a little small,” Sephes said. But the garage has extra space for storage.
More than anything, Sephes is grateful they were able to move.
“We were ready to leave the church house,” she said.
Life after close: Sephes says the best thing about their new home is the neighborhood.
“It’s a beautiful block, very quiet, and it’s wide, too, so we don’t have to worry about traffic.”
And we’re back with another Very Philly Question. I asked back two Philly natives for their take on the forever-Philly issue.
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Evan Weiss
Deputy Features Editor
The question is: Can I move the cones my neighbor places to save his parking spot?
Tommy Rowan
Programming Editor
You absolutely can and should.
Sam Ruland
Features Planning and Coverage Editor
10000%
Sam Ruland
You don’t own the street — it’s public parking! If you want guaranteed parking, get a driveway.
Tommy Rowan
Now, if you shoveled out a spot for your car and put work into it, I'm OK with you claiming that spot for that snow day.
Tommy Rowan
But never should someone ever save a spot with a cone, folding chair, bucket, nada.
Sam Ruland
Exactly, if it’s mid-blizzard and you just spent two hours digging out your car, fine, take a victory lap. But by the next morning when everything's melted away, cones are getting tossed.
Tommy Rowan
And for extra credit, you could also return said cone to the Water Department, which most likely owned the cone first before this concerned party stole them.
Sam Ruland
But in all reality, I hate the whole saving-spots-with-cones thing. It’s entitled — that’s not your spot, it’s A SPOT.
Tommy Rowan
Amen
Evan Weiss
In the moment you're removing that cone, are you at all nervous that the neighbor will see you?
Sam Ruland
Yeah, you feel a little nervous. That's why you move it like it's a lit bomb. Quick hands, no eye contact, and sprint to the car.
Tommy Rowan
Also, I'm a big fan of the "others see it, too," approach. Your other neighbors on your block already know who the conehead is.
Tommy Rowan
Safety in numbers.
Sam Ruland
Half the block’s in silent agreement every time someone finally moves it.
Tommy Rowan
Yup!
Sam Ruland
I’m not circling the block three times when there’s an open spot right there. Cone or not, I’m parking.
Tommy Rowan
I came here to chew gum and park. The cone is in the way, and I'm all out of chewing gum.
Evan Weiss
What do you do if your neighbor comes out mid-cone removal?
Sam Ruland
You commit. You’re already in too deep. Smile, wave, and park like you belong there.
Tommy Rowan
Tell them you're reclaiming the property of the Philadelphia Water Department.
Sam Ruland
Or pickup your cellphone and pretend to be on the phone.
Tommy Rowan
Or, if you're really in the mood, give 'em a smile and say, "Thanks for saving it for me!"
Sam Ruland
Bonus points if you follow it up with, “Go Birds!” while stepping out of the car.
Tommy Rowan
Yeah! And look, nobody likes circling blocks. But suck it up, find an ACME or a shopping center and park there for the night and move it in the morning before the tow trucks come. Like the rest of us!
Tommy Rowan
And for God's sake leave the Water Department alone!
This conversation has been edited for length.
What other Very Philly Questions should we address?
The advent of spooky season brings endless options for driving-distance getaways packed with U-pick orchards, twisting corn mazes, and high-tech haunts. But only Sleepy Hollow, at the gateway to New York’s Hudson Valley, has a reputation so perfectly tied to the macabre.
As the setting for Washington Irving’s The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, the town and its neighboring villages blend American history, small-town autumn charm, and an enduring flair for the supernatural. It’s about a two and a half hour drive from Philly — or take Amtrak to Penn Station, get to Grand Central, and hop on Metro-North’s Hudson Line.
Once you’ve arrived, the mix of colonial history, Halloween pageantry, and riverfront beauty makes it easy to fall under Sleepy Hollow’s spell.
If you’re making a weekend of it, check into Tarrytown House Estate, a historic retreat on a hill above Sunnyside. The estate is home to Goosefeather, chef Dale Talde’s acclaimed Cantonese-inspired restaurant, and combines classic mansions with modern touches — think terraces, firepits, and lounges. It’s one of the few local hotels that’s both stylish and (relatively) affordable. During fall, the property leans into the season with festive touches like pumpkin displays and glowing jack-o’-lanterns scattered across the grounds. It’s an ideal base for exploring Sleepy Hollow’s haunted happenings — close to the action, but tucked away once the lanterns dim.
However you choose to travel, make a morning pit stop at Irvington Station. Grab a matcha latte or flat white from the Australian-accented Ludy Café, and a sage-scented apple-cheddar scone from Red Barn Bakery, walking distance from one another right along the train tracks.
📍 Ludy Café, 7 N. Astor St., Irvington, N.Y. 10533
📍 Red Barn Bakery, 4 S. Astor St., Irvington, N.Y. 10533
Learn: Blue Hill at Stone Barns
Continuing north, head into the woods of Tarrytown to chef Dan Barber’s famous Blue Hill at Stone Barns for a guided Explore Tour of their elysian farm and agricultural center. Take a spin through the market, admiring the hand-thrown ceramics and exquisite preserves, and stay for lunch at the cafeteria. Reservations required.
After arriving in Sleepy Hollow proper, ease into the spookiness at Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, where the one-hour guided tour (in full daylight) leans more history than horror. Not only is the cemetery beautiful, it’s also a great context-setter for the region, providing all the background on its most famous storyteller, Washington Irving, who rests here among other notable figures.
📍 540 N. Broadway, Sleepy Hollow, N.Y. 10591
Solve: The Headless Horseman Files
At the Headless Horseman Files, collect clues from costumed townspeople to unravel what really happened to Ichabod Crane. This live theater-meets-interactive whodunit at Philipsburg Manor is part mystery, part museum experience — and yes, you can exit through the gift shop for a Horseman snow globe.
Bask in the flickering glow of candles and Gothic drama at the Lyndhurst After Dark, the spooky (but not scary) experience at the Lyndhurst Mansion. Guests walk through the riverfront estate, decked in its Halloween best, and encounter live actors in period dress, who share unnerving tales of the mansion’s history.
Pot stickers plumped with dry-aged beef, char siu Berkshire pork belly, and blueberry cheesecake mochi waffles grace the menu at Goosefeather. The free-spirited Cantonese-ish joint comes from Dale Talde, known for his appearances on Top Chef.
