When the server at this long-running French brasserie in Washington Square West delivered my croque madame for lunch Thursday, I was taken aback by its size and beauty. If ever a sandwich deserved a place in the Louvre, this was it. The thick-sliced brioche bread was toasted golden and crispy, the Parisian jambon (ham) and cheese within were grilled to perfection, and a decadent béchamel sauce was drizzled over the bread and spooned in a perfect circle around the entire sandwich. A well-executed sunny-side up egg atop was sprinkled with paprika and julienned ribbons of fresh herbs.
Of course, once I dove into it, this croque madame went from beautiful to big ol’ mess very quickly — but it tasted delightful. Should I have eaten a salad for my first lunch out of the year? Perhaps. Do I have any regrets? None whatsoever. Not only was the food good, Caribou’s French-inspired decor always has a way of transporting me to Europe while still in Center City. Philadelphia. Caribou Cafe, 1126 Walnut St., 267-951-2190, cariboucafe.com
— Stephanie Farr
The salmon buerre bialy at Cleo Bagels.
Salmon beurre at Cleo Bagels
On a rainy day in West Philly, I found myself wanting to switch it up from a classic Nova lox sandwich — but not veer too far from it at the same time. The salmon beurre, a recurring special at Cleo Bagels, was the perfect fit. Served on a garlic za’atar bialy (one of my favorite bialys in the city), this lighter sandwich pairs a schmear of fancy cultured butter with lox and cornichon pickles. It’s a pleasant, balanced, and just-filling-enough bite I’m sure to repeat. Cleo Bagels, 5013 Baltimore Ave., 215-282-7292, cleobagels.com
— Emily Bloch
Matines Cafe’s default breakfast sandwich features scrambled eggs, bacon, and cheese tucked into a croissant.
Breakfast sandwich at Matines Cafe
The day after New Year’s was cold and gray, and the prospect of going back to the grindstone was a grim one, and the only sensible salve for that was a breakfast sandwich. (Judging by this week’s other Best Things entries, I wasn’t alone in that sentiment.) So I swung by Chestnut Hill’s Matines Cafe — now in a larger, new-ish space just off the main drag on Highland Avenue — and ordered their signature breakfast sandwich, which comes with scrambled eggs, bacon, and cheddar. And I chose to have it on a croissant instead of a baguette for all of the aforementioned reasons, not to mention Matines’ owners are French and know their way around viennoiserie.
Split just enough to tuck in a sizable scoop of fluffy scrambled eggs, crispy strips of bacon, and a scant layer of cheddar, the croissant sandwich scratched my itch for something savory and slightly decadent — and managed to do that without flaking or falling apart. Paired with a big mug of black coffee and its accompanying tuft of balsamic-dressed side salad, it got the first workday of the year off to a very satisfying start. I’ll be more than happy to return to try one of Matines’ other breakfast-sandwich varieties, including avocado with turkey and Swiss, salmon with brie, and black truffle-parmesan-prosciutto. Matines Cafe, 23 W. Highland Ave., 215-621-6667, matinescafe.com
Walt Whitman, Ben Franklin, Betsy Ross — these are the massive engineering marvels that come to mind when most Philadelphians think of the bridges between Pennsylvania and New Jersey. But less than an hour north of the city, the Delaware narrows enough to let charming, Norman Rockwell-type trusses span the forested riverbanks.
Everyone knows New Hope. But on the opposite side of the river, Lambertville and neighboring Stockton make a compelling case for a Jersey-side getaway, thanks to stylish revived historic inns, a vibrant arts scene, and some excellent shopping. Start the car.
Hunt: Golden Nugget Antique Flea Market
Coming off I-95 and up River Road, you’ll hit Golden Nugget Antique Flea Market, just outside Lambertville. Over five decades, this sprawling indoor-outdoor operation has grown into one of the largest antique markets in the region. Treasure hunt for Tiffany-glass lamps, rare baseball cards, glittering geodes, and more. Don’t miss Art & Restoration gallery on the first floor, where the chatty owner is happy to talk through the process of paper deacidification and the highlights of his ever-changing collection (which recently included a Picasso).
📍 1850 River Rd., Lambertville, N.J. 08530
Hike: Goat Hill Overlook
River towns offer plenty of scenic walks along the water, but a little elevation makes all the difference. Goat Hill Overlook, halfway between the Golden Nugget and downtown Lambertville, is a low-effort, high-reward climb: a gently uphill, paved path that clocks just under a mile from the trailhead parking lot. At the summit, the blue, bridge-laced Delaware slides toward the horizon before dissolving into the woods.
Indie boutiques, antique dealers, and cafés line the streets of downtown Lambertville, which stretches along Bridge Street (at the foot of the New Hope-Lambertville Bridge) and spiders out in a series of charming alleys and lanes. Wander into Zinc for home and garden inspo, Lambert + Hope for Flamingo Estate candles and Laguiole knives, and Panoply for special-edition books and vintage vinyl.
📍 Bridge Street, Lambertville, N.J. 08530
Snack: RSC Atelier
Perhaps the only gourmet grocery you’ll find attached to a gas station, RSC Atelier in Stockton grew out of the old Rosemont Supper Club nearby. Build a picnic basket with Iberico ham, upscale tinned fish, and farmstead cheese sourced by sister business Immortal Milk Cheese Co.
A crossroads for travelers since 1710, the nine-key Stockton Inn reopened in 2024 after a seven-year renovation that modernized the staying experience while still preserving the building’s historic bones. Earthy colors and natural fabrics give the rooms and suites a tranquil, contemporary vibe that feels both at home in the country but also more stylish than the typical area B&Bs.
📍 1 S. Main St., Stockton, N.J. 08559
See: Music Mountain Theatre
New Hope’s Bucks County Playhouse gets most of the attention, but just a mile from Lambertville’s downtown, Music Mountain Theatre is quietly expanding the arts scene on the Jersey side of the river. Founded in 2017, the company stages polished productions year-round for families and adults alike. This winter’s lineup includes Grease (through Feb. 1), followed by Dangerous Liaisons and Shrek the Musical.
True to headline, nearly everywhere in this guide has a Lambertville or Stockton address. Dinner is the only exception. For that, head three and a half miles inland to the Sergeantsville Inn. Chef Sean Gray, formerly of New York’s Momofuku Ko, runs the tavern and restaurant housed in a building that dates to 1734. Stone walls, wood beams, and Shaker-style chairs set the stage for a candlelit meal of radicchio salad with cheddar and pears, beer-battered onion rings with horseradish aioli, or a whole roasted duck. Look alive — the Revolution is here.
The buyers: David Snelbaker, 59, finishing technician
The house: a 1,440-square-foot townhouse in Port Richmond with three bedrooms and two baths built in 1925.
The price: listed for $275,000; purchased for $269,500
The agent: Allison Fegel, Elfant Wissahickon Realtors
Snelbaker in the kitchen of his Port Richmond home.
The ask: Snelbaker didn’t want to give up his house in Graduate Hospital. He’d spent years rehabbing and repairing it. But in 2023, on the heels of a breakup, he determined he couldn’t afford to keep it on his own. He needed to downsize, but he wanted to stay in his neighborhood. Other than that, his list was short but firm: a backyard for gardening and a rowhouse that wasn’t too narrow.
His budget was $300,000 — a number driven less by lender approval than by self-preservation. “I didn’t want to be house poor,” he said. “I have friends who are. They don’t go on vacations. They’re just kind of financially stuck.”
The search: Snelbaker needed to sell his old house before he could make an offer on a new one, which made it difficult to compete in South Philly’s hot market. “A lot of the places I wanted to jump on would just go so fast,” he said.
He expanded his search and discovered better stock in Fishtown and Port Richmond. “For the same price for something in South Philly, it was a fixer-upper,” he said. “And here, it was in good shape.” Snelbaker had already lived through years of construction in his old house and wasn’t eager to do it again. “I just didn’t want to get into another fixer-upper situation,” he said.
He checked out a few places in Fishtown but settled on Port Richmond because it was closer to his work. The prices were better, too. “It was a win-win,” Snelbaker said. The only other place he considered was a recently renovated rowhouse close to the river. “It was laid out well,” he said. “That was my second choice.”
Snelbaker liked that the house was recently renovated and move-in ready.
The appeal: Snelbaker knew he’d found the one when he stepped out back. “The backyard was unbelievably, unbelievably big,” he said. “It’s like 27 feet long and 18 feet wide.” Plenty of space for the major landscaping projects he wanted to do, like planting several trees and building raised beds. Even better, one side of the yard abutted a warehouse, not another rowhouse, which gave him “a level of privacy,” he said.
Inside, the house was open, newly renovated, and neutral. “It didn’t have a lot of personality,” Snelbaker said, “but it wasn’t a lot of work either.”
The deal: Snelbaker saw the house at the end of the summer, but because he needed the proceeds from his Graduate Hospital home for a down payment, he couldn’t make an offer right away. Thankfully, the Port Richmond house lingered on the market until he sold his place in October. “I was surprised it didn’t move,” Snelbaker said.
Once his old house sold, Snelbaker moved quickly. He offered $269,500 — $5,500 under the asking price — and the seller accepted without pushback. The inspection brought little drama. The sellers, who were contractors, handled minor repairs. “They did some patching on the roof and some stuff on the brick in the front,” Snelbaker said. “There was something with the dishwasher … they repaired that. That was pretty much it.”
Since moving in, Snelbaker has added personal touches like this antler lamp to give his house more personality.
The money: Snelbaker walked away with $240,000 from the sale of his previous home. He put a chunk of it into a certificate of deposit and used the remaining $180,000 for the down payment. “I put more than 20% down because I wanted to keep my monthly payment low,” he said.
Even so, timing worked against him. Interest rates climbed to 7% as he was shopping, and insurance costs jumped a few months after he moved in. His monthly payment was originally $1,300. Now it’s $1,900. He plans to refinance once interest rates drop a few percentage points, and he’s actively looking for a better rate on his home insurance.
Snelbaker removed some of the concrete in the backyard to plant trees.
The move: Snelbaker sold his old house in mid-October and officially closed on his new one on Halloween, but he wasn’t ready to move in right away. His agent did some “fancy footwork” and worked out a deal for Snelbaker to rent his old house from its new owners for a few weeks. “She negotiated a really good timeline that gave me space to pack and wrap up everything at the old house,” Snelbaker said.
Even better, he celebrated Halloween with his old neighbors. “We handed out candy, and they made me dinner. It was very sweet,” Snelbaker said. He moved into his new home the week before Thanksgiving.
Any reservations? Without an attached neighbor on one side, the house runs colder than Snelbaker expected. He contacted an energy auditor who advised him not to do anything until he insulated the roof. It’s pricey, but worth it, Snelbaker said. “It’ll definitely increase the comfort and lower my heating bills.”
Life after close: Since moving in, Snelbaker has focused on the backyard. He removed slabs of concrete to make room for trees and raised beds. “That was important for me,” he said. “I really wanted to get a garden going again like I had in my old spot.”
Last year, I asked for your suggestions for what Philadelphia should create, destroy, or fix in advance of everything — and everyone — coming to our in our city in 2026.
In other words, Philadelphians had thoughts. Of course, there were recurring themes that arose (more on those later), and there were folks who submitted suggestions well beyond the scope of the assignment. While I appreciate people’s visions, I don’t think we’re going to solve school funding, stop gun violence, end courtesy towing, or turn Regional Rail into a German-style S-Bahn by next year.
But there were a lot of great ideas, and so, I now present this edited list, because if I included every suggestion, we’d be here until 2027.
Simple things that are easy, free, or cheap to do
Cullen Kisner: “Drive around the city, literally section it off like trash trucks do, and remove any unnecessary traffic cones/street work signs/construction barricades/etc. It just [clogs] up the city and makes it look like a perpetual construction zone (which it is, but the tourists don’t need to know that).”
Brendan Yuhas suggests charging $17.76 for SEPTA passes and Indego bicycle rental passes during the week of Independence Day. He’d also like to see restaurants offer meals for $17.76.
Brian Smart suggests illuminating the William Penn statue atop City Hall at night.
Beth LaPiene: “We need longer pedestrian crossing times on Center City streets. How does anyone cross Broad Street in 15 seconds, especially if it’s crowded?” (Another reader raised this issue with Vine Street as well.)
Things that take some amount of time and/or money to address
Jason Berkhimer and Rogelio Ayllon separately requested that Philadelphia adopt a new city flag, an idea previously explored by The Inquirer. Berkhimer wrote that a new flag is “incredibly important to sew unity in this partisan time” (his pun, not mine), while Ayllon said it could be marketed on merchandise, making it “a win for vendors … and a win for the city in tax dollars.”
Anonymous: “Install compass roses outside of all El, trolley, subway, PATCO, and Regional Rail access points so people can quickly get an idea of which direction they need to go when reaching the surface street.”
Of course, Philly is all about the Benjamin Franklin too. Tom Rosenberg suggested rehabbing the exterior of Franklin’s post office on Market Street. “It’s dilapidated and looks awful,” he wrote. Rich Armandi bemoaned the fact that a plaque at the Second and Market Street subway stop in Old City that marked the site of Franklin’s first print shop has been missing since 2024. He wants it replaced, and he’d like a mural there that envisions what Franklin’s print shop might have looked like.
The Association of Philadelphia Tour Guides (who submitted a lot of great ideas in a well-curated slideshow) would like to see the Franklin Court Printing Office, a replica of an 18th century printing office, open seven days a week, instead of just weekends.
Big things that take time, money, and cooperation
Several people asked for the city and the National Park Service to work together to make Independence Mall “more than a desolate lawn.” One suggested that an “easy change would be to move some existing statues or art installations from more obscure/lower visibility places (like Fairmount Park and Kelly Drive).” Other readers proposed adding trees, benches, and water features.
Jack Bellis would like to see the concourse below Broad Street (from Market to Locust) turned into a rainy-day attraction with Philly vendors and a centerpiece mini-golf course “created either in part or wholly by school students, in which each of the holes highlights a Philadelphia tourist attraction.”
Mark Methlie’s idea is to “follow Boston’s lead” and create our own version of the Freedom Trail, a trail embedded in roads and sidewalks that leads to notable spots (which I also proposed after visiting Boston in 2024). Methlie, however, suggests multiple trails leading out of the Convention Center, including ones for history, art, science, cultural institutions, and food.
Bob Dix: “I would love to see the water taxis languishing under 95 to be taken out of mothballs and used for tours or transport … and they could be used for transit to the FIFA events in FDR.”
Association of Philadelphia Tour Guides: “Create an introduction park to Elfreth’s Alley at Second Street in the empty lot. Design it to include native shrubs, shade, colonial lamps, benches, and information displays.” (Note: In late November, it was announced that this one is planned to happen!)
Fun activities and events
Tori Beard: “I’m a big fan of a Colonial Day Fest idea. Think Ren Fest, but for colonial-style activities and dress. Bonnets, butter churning, powdered wigs. Could even be held in the Independence Hall area.” (Note: The Museum of the American Revolution hosts an annual living history interpretation weekend called Revolutionary Philadelphia, but it would be great to see it expanded for 2026.)
The Association of Philadelphia Tour Guides suggests creating a tour and a music festival highlighting The Sound of Philadelphia artists like Teddy Pendergrass, Harold Melvin & the Blue Notes, and Tammi Terrell. I’d like to take it a step further and suggest a music festival in which current Philly musicians pay homage to Philadelphia musicians who came before them, regardless of genre. I’d love to see The Roots play the O’Jays, Jill Scott perform Bessie Smith, and Dr. Dog pay homage to Jim Croce.
Anonymous: “Pepper pot stew cook-off.”
Eli Fish: “Turn Headhouse Square into European-style plaza. No cars, tables in the street and under the headhouse cover, live music and outdoor dining. We know this can work because they started to do it during COVID and it was amazing.” (Note: This idea was also raised on Instagram by users who begged the city to “Make Headhouse interesting again.”)
Hugh Connelly suggests creating an iconic, solar-powered mural that looks like Philadelphia in 1776 during the daytime, but at night when a system of solar-powered lights illuminate it, the “new night image is one of futuristic Philly, a beacon for liberty for the next 250 years.”
Kevin Fennell: “There should be a steal the Declaration of Independence escape room.” Why yes there should be, along with a “National Treasure treasure hunt,” as suggested by one Instagram user.
Off-the-wall ideas
Zach Marcum‘s idea is an official SEPTA cheesesteak joint: “We bring in a real Philly chef who will (for free) design us the perfect cheesesteak for maximum profit and quality balance. We line up sourcing with local suppliers in Philly — and the surrounding areas — I’m talking grain for the bread-type vertical integration — and then set up SEPTA cheesesteak carts throughout not just Philly but the state of Pennsylvania, and hire good local kids paying good wages to cook and distribute these cheesesteaks. As for all the people who are already in the cart business, we bring them in as middle managers or buy them out, or they can sell halal or whatever (sorry … I’m not a genius). With the profits we fund massive infrastructure improvements, spreading wealth and glory to all.”
Tom Dougherty proposes something like an “Epcot Village,” to show off the diversity of Philly’s food-and-beverage scene. A potential location could be FDR Park, where Dougherty suggests it could run in conjunction with the Southeast Asian Food Market.
Thomas Lake‘s idea is a Schuylkill ferry that would commute people from King of Prussia to the Philadelphia Art Museum and back, with stops in Norristown, Conshohocken, and Manayunk. “Might have to remove some dams?” he wrote. Yeah, a few, plus I’m told the river is far too shallow in spots and some bridges are too low for a ferry to navigate. Even though this one is implausible, it’s fun to dream about.
Catherine Robb Stahl: “You know how Tinker Bell flies down from the Disney castle at night on a zip line? Well, how about having Betsy Ross do the same thing from City Hall??? Fun, huh?!?! What a sight to see!”
Other off-the-wall ideas submitted without further context included: a community zip line and pool, a Gritty cave, a Gritty statue, secede from Pennsylvania, “Find a better word than Semiquincentennial,” hold a “Band things happen in Philadelphia LGBT concert band performance,” “No city tax for those who live within 1 mile of a pothole,” and “Make it abundantly clear in marketing to other U.S. cities that Philly rules.”
Recurring themes
Properly funding SEPTA is integral to Philly and any plans for 2026, as I said in my original column. While there’s since been a measure enacted to ensure it will operate for the next two years, SEPTA’s fate remains murky after that. At least a quarter, maybe more, of the responses I received mentioned SEPTA in some way.
But people told me they want to see SEPTA more than just funded. They want it cleaned — deep cleaned — from the stairwells to the seats, like the entire system was exposed to nuclear waste (New Jersey commuters would also like their PATCO stations decontaminated too).
“Tourists Take Transit. Let’s not show the world our dirty underwear,” Tally Brennan said via email.
Scores of Philly-area residents wrote in asking for more public bathrooms, trash cans, water fountains, trees, shade, benches, pocket parks, trash cans, signage to city sites, protected bike lanes, trash cans, street cleaning, trash cans, programs to assist the unhoused, trash cans, murals, and underground parking lots. And for the love of all that is good and holy can we get at least one permanent pedestrian-only street in this city?
Readers would also like to see the following repaired: the escalators at Jefferson Station, potholes, the lines on the road “so they’re visible and you don’t have to just guess,” “Fix the roads, all of them!” “ITS LIKE A BOMBED WAR ZONE,” and sinkholes.
Many people said the entire Market East corridor needs a whole lot of love. Folks lament that it used to be a destination and now it’s filled with shuttered storefronts.
While we learned in November that Comcast and the Sixers plan to demolish some buildings they own on the 1000 block of Market Street in time for next year’s events, it’s still unclear what they plan to put there.
In the remaining vacant storefronts, readers suggested putting pop-up shops, art galleries, experiences, or doing a pop-up Philly History Museum.
Finally, a very sweet reader asked me: “Please can we have the building on Broad Street that has the graffiti ‘Boner 4Ever’ painted over??? It’s truly an embarrassment.”
The Philadelphia Superiority Complex is an occasional series of highly opinionated takes about why Philadelphia is better than other cities.
As I began in earnest my search for a Philadelphia apartment recently, I steeled myself for a tradition I assumed to be as East Coast as unnecessary honking and an unhealthy animosity toward outsiders.
I’m speaking, of course, about the broker fee.
As a native Midwesterner and perpetual renter who has spent the past decade living in Boston, I’d come to view broker fees as an inescapable part of big-city life.
For the uninitiated, broker fees are a lot like extortion payments. Here’s how it would go in Boston: A so-called apartment broker — to this day I couldn’t tell you what a broker actually is — meets you at an available apartment, unlocks the door, and stands there while you give yourself a brief tour of the unit. In exchange for this white-glove service, and the privilege of renting the apartment, you pay the broker a one-time, nonrefundable fee typically equal to one month’s rent. In Boston, where the average rent for a one-bedroom apartments sits at around $3,500, this is no small thing.
Making matters worse, the Boston brokers always seem to be finance-bros-in-training, arriving to these brief showings in Lexuses or BMWs, hair meticulously styled and dressed head to toe in Brooks Brothers.
How refreshing it has been, then, to discover that broker fees just … don’t actually exist here?
Not once since I began responding to online apartment postings have I been asked to hand a stranger a $3,500 check in exchange for arranging a two-minute tour. I haven’t yet received a torrent of unwanted text messages from guys named Brock or Beau, demanding to know the earliest possible moment I can schedule a viewing.
And from what I can gather, I’m not going to.
As one longtime Philadelphian explained it to me recently, “There is a beauty in Philadelphia that no matter how cool it’s trying to be, it is never desirable enough to warrant something like brokers fees.”
It’s been a true revelation.
(In Boston’s defense, Massachusetts legislators recently passed a measure mandating that landlords can no longer require tenants to pay a broker fee. Of course, that doesn’t give me back the thousands of dollars I would’ve otherwise put into my retirement fund or, more likely, Uber Eats and Nerf machine guns.)
Which is not to say, certainly, that things here are perfect. An increasing number of Philly renters are cost-burdened. And the city recently ranked among the nation’s least affordable for apartment renters, according to one online real estate brokerage firm.
And as someone who is at the very beginning of the process, I’m sure there will be more disappointment in store.
I’m preparing for an upcoming weekend of apartment tours in Philly, and I have no illusions about how it’s likely to go. I’m imagining a couple days of drab leasing offices and hidden-fee horrors, one-sided rental agreements and a good ol’-fashioned scam or two.
Fine.
If it means not handing a half-month’s salary over to a smug 25-year-old in wingtips, well, then, I’m OK with all of it.
Altogether, our staff consumes thousands of meals a year, from on-the-go bites at takeout counters to sumptuous tasting meals at intimate ateliers. It’s no surprise that some experiences are memorable, some are forgettable, and some are memorable for being forgettable (but that’s a different story for a different day).
Here are 20 dishes we ate in 2025 that stopped us mid-bite, clarified a restaurant’s point of view, or captured a moment we wanted to return to. I’ve coursed this out, moving from opening bites through vegetable-forward dishes, then to mains and desserts. As a bonus, there’s a cocktail whose elements provide the perfect transition from snacktime to dinner.
Although some dishes were specials, or are offered seasonally, be assured that these kitchens reliably turn out food that truly is memorable. In a good way. — Michael Klein
Sesame madeleines with ras al hanout butter at Emmett.
Sesame madeleines at Emmett
I don’t think there was a more evocative and hunger-stirring opening bite this year than the warm sesame madeleines with smoked and spiced butter at Emmett. They state the theme of this modern Mediterranean restaurant so clearly — channeling the flavors of the Levant through Euro techniques and local seasonality. Last spring, the butter was scented with the smoked cinnamon of ras el hanout alongside a dollop of rhubarb jam. By my revisit this fall, the butter was fragrant with vadouvan curry, accompanied by blueberry compote. Adding the optional scoop of caviar transformed it from an intriguing first nibble to an all-out indulgence of its own. — Craig LaBan
If I could only order one thing from Alex Kemp’s menu at My Loup in Rittenhouse, it would be the raw bar’s pickled shrimp. Served in a mason jar with a pair of metal tongs, the dish features firm, pink shrimp bathed in a vinegary brine laced with basil leaves. Diners assemble the perfect bite, smearing a rich aioli on saltine crackers, to be topped with the bright shrimp and herbs — marrying salt, fat, and acidity in a way that’s simply addictive. I’m from the South (specifically the home of Mayport shrimp, with a minor-league baseball team named after the delicacy), so I know a thing or two about crustaceans and I won’t order them just anywhere. So trust me when I tell you that this is the spot and the dish. — Emily Bloch
My Loup, 2005 Walnut St., 267-239-5925, myloupphl.com
Umami fries at Mama-San, 226 N. Radnor Chester Rd., Wayne.
Umami fries at Mama-San
The Philly area has its share of outstanding fries: the gold standard Belgian frites from Monk’s Cafe, the duck-fat beauties from Royal Boucherie and Village Whiskey, the slender frites from Parc, and the batata harra-style potatoes from Suraya. Let’s add to the list the umami fries from Mama-San, a fast-casual Japanese newcomer across from Radnor High in Wayne. Straight-cut and fried in soybean oil, they’re glossed with a house blend of nori and spices such as shichimi togarashi, which adds briny, umami depth, and the side of seaweed aioli is a dip worth savoring. — M.K.
Here’s a bonus: a drink that behaves like a dish. On a recent Friday, I was lucky enough to nab a walk-in table at La Jefa, the vibey cafe-slash-cocktail bar that’s part of the revived Tequilas universe. I departed just slightly tipsy enough to not quite remember the food, but one drink — a burnt corn tortilla mai tai made with Cascahuin Blanco tequila, floral vermouth, rum, lime, and the essence of a corn tortilla — left an unforgettable impression. The cocktail leans smoky, with a sweet aftertaste not unlike the flavor of fresh-out-the-oven cornbread. For those who don’t imbibe, a burnt corn tortilla latte is available during the day. — Beatrice Forman
Do you want to see why I’m so excited about the modern Mexican cooking at Amá in Kensington? Behold chef Frankie Ramirez’s seasonal tlayuda for July, a paper-thin tortilla as broad as a pizza, crisped over the coals and topped with a brilliant yellow burst of zucchini flowers. It was a snapshot of summer sunshine, layered with herbaceous epazote pesto, melted Oaxaca cheese, and tangy dollops of buffalo milk burrata. Not only was it delicious, it was probably the most beautiful thing I ate all year. — C.L.
The vegan bean and smoked mushroom burger at Pietramala.
The vegan burger at Pietramala
Earlier this year, chef Ian Graye began selling his veggie burger once a month on Sundays, when his Northern Liberties restaurant is normally closed. At first glance, the burger appears to be an elemental patty made from coarsely ground smoked Mycopolitan comb tooth mushrooms, heirloom pinto beans, and charred onions — repurposed excess ingredients from Pietramala‘s dinner production. But this burger is anything but simple: These patties take three days to prepare, and much longer if you count the months it takes to ferment the house-made tamari, miso, and other larder items that add an impressively deep, layered savor. Once seared in a cast-iron skillet, the burgers get basted with an umami glaze — reduced bean pot liquor that’s been emulsified with more miso and tamari — lending each burger a juicy shine. With the burger set onto a seeded bun with ripe tomatoes, lettuce, onions, and a special sauce made with pickle brine, fermented chilies, and lots of garlic, it’s no wonder Pietramala’s burger pop-ups routinely draw long lines. Check Instagram for availability. — C.L.
A vegan combo with injera at Eshkol Ethiopian Cuisine.
Vegan combo with injera at Eshkol Ethiopian Cuisine
What to get at Eshkol, chef Chaltu Merga’s Ethiopian newcomer in Ardmore? I’d suggest ordering a combination (either vegan or meat-forward) so you can enjoy an assortment of rich stews and vibrant vegetable dishes served atop injera, the traditional teff flatbread used for scooping. Lovely staff will guide you and your pals to your choices. Here, I assembled key sir (beet and potatoes), gomen (collard greens), tikil gomen (cabbage), misir wot (lentils), ater kik alicha (yellow split peas), and, in the center, shiro (chickpeas). The meat dishes include such classics as doro wot (spicy chicken stew with egg), siga wot (beef in berbere), and minchet abish (spiced minced beef). — M.K.
Eshkol Ethiopian Cuisine, 36 E. Lancaster Ave., Ardmore, 484-412-8044, eshkolcuisine.com
Tostones nachos from Amy’s Pastelillos.
Tostones nachos at Amy’s Pastelillos
Over the course of scouting Philly’s best Puerto Rican and South American restaurants for The Inquirer’s 76 guide, I thought I had encountered plantains in all their forms: mashed into mofongo and mangú, caramelized into maduros, molded into petit cups for crackling pork. None, however, stood out more than the platter of tostones nachos from Amy’s Pastelillos, a Fishtown to-go counter better known for its namesake crispy Puerto Rican hand pies. The nachos are made from miniature tostones (to maximize surface area) and blanketed with layers of all the good stuff — cheese, pineapple salsa, jalapeños, pickled onion, and a hefty drizzle of passion fruit hot sauce. Talk about innovation that excites. — B.F.
The audaciously over-the-top McDonald’s Money burger got all the hype and ink (including my own) at Honeysuckle. But the truly unforgettable dish from Omar Tate and Cybille St.Aude-Tate’s culinary exploration of the Black diaspora on North Broad Street are the hot tamales, inspired by the century-old Black food tradition of the Mississippi Delta. The chefs sub grits for Mexican-style masa inside the corn husks, which are stuffed with braised oxtail and wagyu beef cheeks, then simmer them in a cuminy beef broth spiked with house hot sauce. They’re served alongside chili-stewed limas, green tomato salsa verde, saltine crackers made of blue masa, and a cloudy shot of smoky corn milk and liquor. — C.L.
Hyderabadi curry paneer (with necessary water) at Madness of Masala.
Hyderabadi paneer curry at Madness of Masala
Sometimes I need a heater, a dish so spicy it recalibrates my brain like a good cleanse. And this year’s fire award goes to the Hyderabadi paneer curry at Madness of Masala near King of Prussia. This bowl of creamy cheese cubes comes bobbing in a pylon-orange gravy whose full-throttle heat — the result of red Gunturs and green Thai chilies — triggered a ringing sensation in my ears while the rest of my face momentarily went numb. The owner, taking pity, insisted on making me a milder version, despite my protests. But after a few bites, it was clear that this was a dish that expresses itself best when the spice is dialed up to a certain volume. It unlocks a frequency where your buzzing taste buds can sense other flavors flowing through: aromatic cardamom, clove, and coriander; sweet backnotes of cashews and almonds; the soothing richness of cream; and the punctuating tang of vinegar for balance. I didn’t want to miss a note. So I mopped my brow and kept eating. — C.L.
Madness of Masala, 2851 Ridge Pike, Trooper, 484-235-8003, madnessofmasala.com
Roast duck congee with a side of youtiao at M Kee.
Roast duck congee at M Kee
Chinatown has several family-run operations that serve succulent roast duck over silken congee or fragrant, fluffy, dripping-covered rice, or crispy-skinned pork along with thin noodles and gossamer wontons. Somehow, M Kee manages to serve the best of all the above, while quelling a relentless takeout line at lunch. M Kee puts just a bit more care into each item — the duck is carefully diced and its congee is positively packed with the meatiest bits. A croissant-like youtiao comes on the side of the steaming bowl of congee; the flaky sticks of fried dough may be the best I’ve ever had, with strands of fresh ginger and a staggering amount of duck in every bite. — Kiki Aranita
Puebla-born chef Alberto Sandoval, who worked for two decades in Philly fine-dining kitchens such as Lacroix, Striped Bass, and Volvér, cooks family recipes at Tlali, the modest, cash-only BYOB he opened over the summer with his brother Efrain in a rowhouse in Upper Darby. Total charmer. Sandoval cuts no corners on the menu. Besides tasty tacos al pastor (whose pork is tenderized by his father’s secret marinade recipe), you must not miss the huarache Teresita, a seared 12-ounce rib-eye with cactus salad and charred tomatillo salsa atop the thick corn base. — M.K.
The arrival of former Momofuku Ko chef Sean Gray to the Sergeantsville Inn, just north of Lambertville, is one of the best reasons I found this year to drive more than an hour to dinner. And while there were so many incredible dishes on the menu of this revitalized 18th-century stone tavern (fried chicken, grilled prime steaks), the shrimp casino is one you can’t miss. Head-on Spanish blue prawns are split open, stuffed with garlicky breadcrumbs, and roasted over a Big Green Egg grill. You’ll need to dive in and get messy with these majestic crustaceans to pry that tender meat off the shells with your teeth — or simply crunch away, and eat the whole thing. — C.L.
A platter including pork ribs, brisket, and jerk chicken at Big Swerve’s BBQ.
Ribs, brisket, and jerk chicken at Big Swerve’s BBQ
However you get to Big Swerve’s BBQ in Westville, Gloucester County, it would be wise to follow Google Maps, which will send you not to the street address but down an alley and around a parking lot that will swing you perilously close to a brick building. In front of you will be the 20-foot converted shipping container that houses “Big Bottom Betty,” pitmaster Stephen Clark’s offset smoker, fashioned out of a 500-gallon propane tank. Three people can share a combo, such as the Lil Dip Two, a generous sampler of three proteins (let’s say brisket, chicken, and three or four ribs, depending on size), plus three medium sides, including candied yams, cornbread, collard greens, macaroni and cheese, and “mean beans,” a combo of ground beef and baked beans. That’s smoke, sauce, and generosity done right. — M.K.
Big Swerve’s BBQ, 201 Broadway, Westville, 856-349-7469, bigswervesbbq.com
Special Dominó arepa by Puyero Venezuelan Flavor.
Special Dominó arepa at Puyero Venezuelan Flavor
One of my biggest pet peeves is when the bites of a sandwich are uneven, leaving you wanting for one ingredient while going too heavy on another. That doesn’t happen at Puyero in Queen Village, a Venezuelan restaurant known for churning out oversized arepas packed with fillings. Each of Puyero’s cornmeal pockets is excellent, but my favorite is the most basic: the Special Dominó, filled with heaps of avocado, slightly-stewed black bean, sweet plantains, and queso de mano, a soft white mozzarella-esque cheese. All my favorite things, in one arepa. — B.F.
Puyero Venezuelan Flavor, 524 S. Fourth St., 267-928-4584, puyeroflavor.com
The Houdini pizza from Del Rossi’s Cheesesteak & Pizza Co.
The Houdini pizza at Del Rossi’s
Getting my favorite tomato pie riff in Philly has just gotten a whole lot harder, thanks to Del Rossi’s well-deserved Michelin Guide Bib Gourmand. Del Rossi’s 16-inch Houdini pizza layers provolone beneath a plum tomato sauce, then gets a flourish of aged Parmesan post-bake. Its crusts never flop or sag under the weight of toppings. The real magic, however, is how the parm mixes with the tomato sauce to create a tang with an umami bite. Eating at home? Add a drizzle of hot honey and thank me later. — B.F.
Del Rossi’s Cheesesteak & Pizza Co., 538 N. Fourth St., 267-817-7007, delrossisrestaurant.com
A grilled corzetti pasta coin cradles a slice of American wagyu beef and Cooper Sharp foam at Vetri Cucina.
A pasta cheesesteak coin at Vetri
The multicourse “pasta omakase” chef Marc Vetri serves to just six lucky diners each month upstairs at Vetri Cucina has become one of the most coveted culinary events of the moment. The meals themselves may reach a limited audience, but they’ve become a creative laboratory for dishes that often make the restaurant’s main menu. I tasted some extraordinary technical wonders there, like the duck confit culurgiones in orange sauce wrapped in carob dough, or the airy gnocchi stuffed with lobster mousse. But the most unexpected bite was a clever tribute to Vetri’s Philadelphia roots: a tiny cheesesteak of wagyu beef flashed over the coals, then wrapped inside a grilled corzetti pasta coin like a mini-taco alongside roasted onion and foamy flourish of aerated Cooper Sharp cheese. So small, so vivid, so fun. It’s also destined for occasional future cameos as an amuse-bouche in the dining room or a featured bite at special events. — C.L.
Cheeseburger dessert with a chocolate sundae at Roxanne.
Cheeseburger and chocolate sundae at Roxanne
It’s been a big year for bold riffs on cheeseburgers. But Roxanne’s Alexandra Holt is the first who’s ever served me a cheeseburger for dessert, floating the somewhat radical theory that “dessert” simply implies an ending, not necessarily something sweet. The burger itself was savory incarnate, a gushingly rare patty on a sesame-seeded house-baked bun layered with a thick slice of Red Rock blue cheddar cheese, the crunch of raw onions, and creamy mayo. For the dessert doubters, though, it also comes with a powerhouse traditional sweet: a chocolate sundae drizzled with an intense fudge sauce made from 66% dark chocolate that Holt produces from cacao pods she grinds herself at her Queen Village restaurant. This is, in fact, a classic fast-food combo, and now it’s the happy meal of my dreams. — C.L.
This off-menu (but readily available) dessert from Kinto, the Georgian BYOB in Fishtown, reminded me of eating diner blintzes rolled with sweet cream and heaped with maraschino cherries. Here, the classic flavor combo gets the dumpling treatment: A warm khinkali, tinted pink with raspberry juice, is filled with a sour cherry-and-cheese mixture. The dessert is as beautiful as it is comforting. — B.F.
The Caramelia at 1906, the restaurant at Longwood Gardens.
Caramelia at Longwood Gardens’ 1906
Paying homage to Kennett Square’s reputation as the “Mushroom Capital of the World,” the kitchen team at Longwood Gardens’ 1906 restaurant adds funghi wherever it can — even in dessert. The Caramelia, easily its most Instagrammable menu item, is almost too enchanting to eat. It stands vertically on the plate in all its hemispherical glory, resembling the red-topped mushrooms of storybooks or Super Mario Bros. But once you will yourself to break into the decadent chocolate mousse mold, you’re greeted with flavors of espresso and caramel. It’s finished with a playful cocoa “soil,” almost like a grown-up take on the dirt pies with gummy worms of our youth. Beyond the novelty, it’s a not-too-heavy but chocolatey way to cap off a meal. — E.B.
In the middle of Reading Terminal Market, Flying Monkey Bakery sells the platonic ideal of a homestyle apple pie (and also really good whoopie pies). Although the apple crumb pie is a standard 9 inches, it feels more substantial, thanks to a hefty all-butter shell and a granola-esque oat-crumb topping. You get plenty of cinnamon in the rich, thick filling. It tastes just as good cold as it does warm and topped with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. — B.F.
If you’re going to get married in Philadelphia, this is the correct way to do it: sequins, sneakers, a string band, bitter cold, delayed schedules, and a crowd that didn’t ask for romance but got it anyway.
A couple saying “I do” in the middle of the Mummers Parade is the purest expression of this city’s personality. Equal parts earnest and unhinged. Romantic, but only after everyone’s been standing around freezing for hours. Vegas chapel energy, but filtered through South Philly logistics and Broad Street chaos.
This wasn’t a viral stunt or a look-at-us wedding. It was two people already marching, already committed, deciding that if they were going to wait around in the cold anyway, they might as well get married while they’re at it. Honestly? Efficient.
The details make it sing: golden sneakers instead of heels, a flask for warmth and nerves, vows practiced on a bus, Elvis officiating, and the inevitable Philly closer, “I’m glad it’s done so I can get warm.” That’s love, but realistic.
And of course it happened at the Mummers. The parade that routinely features feathers, fake arrests, grown adults sobbing at saxophone solos, and more sequins than dignity. If any institution could absorb a full wedding without breaking stride, it’s this one.
”Queen Mumm” Avril Davidge, a 93-year-old Welsh grandma meets Quaker City String Band Captain Jimmy Good as he surprises her at the Mummers Museum on Wednesday, Dec. 31, 2025. Davidge got to live her dream of going to the Mummers Parade, starting on New Year’s Eve morning with a tour of the museum.
Mummers devotion, no notes: A+
Yes, we’re grading two Mummers stories this week, and no, that’s not an accident.
Avril Davidge didn’t come to Philadelphia for irony or spectacle. She came because she fell genuinely, deeply in love with the Mummers through YouTube — learned the string bands, picked favorites, developed opinions — and decided, at 93, that she needed to see it in person. That alone clears the grading curve.
What makes this story land isn’t just the transatlantic trip. It’s how naturally Philly met her energy. A museum tour. A surprise meeting with her favorite band captain. A golf cart to the parade. No skepticism, no gatekeeping … just, “Yeah, of course. Welcome.”
And then there’s the wedding: sequins, sneakers, vows exchanged in the cold on Market Street, because if you’re already marching, why not also get married? It’s unhinged. It’s beautiful. It’s extremely us.
No notes.
Philadelphia’s cost of living vs. the suburbs: C (with math and feelings)
On paper, this sounds like a win: It’s up to 26% cheaper to live in Philadelphia than in places like Ardmore, King of Prussia, and Phoenixville, Philadelphia Business Journal reported. Congrats to the city for clearing the extremely low bar of not being the suburbs.
The problem is the second half of the equation: income.
Suburban households make dramatically more money, which means they somehow pay more and end up with way more left over. Ardmore residents, for example, are apparently out here saving more than $50,000 a year, which is a number that sounds fake if you live south of Girard.
So what we really have here isn’t a victory lap. It’s a familiar Philly paradox. The city is more affordable because it has to be. Lower costs don’t feel like a flex when they’re paired with lower wages, longer commutes, and the constant background hum of “maybe next year.”
Mary Wright and Rich Misdom of Collingswood consider their options at the Roy Rogers located in the Peter J. Camiel Service Plaza on the Pennsylvania Turnpike in late November 2025.
This isn’t just personal bitterness; it’s structural. The Turnpike’s dining lineup is effectively locked in by a decades-old contract, which explains why eating on one of the state’s busiest roads feels less like a pit stop and more like a museum exhibit titled Fast Food, 1998. Auntie Anne’s. Burger King. Dunkin’. Starbucks. Repeat until New Jersey.
To be clear, this isn’t about disrespecting Roy Rogers. Roy Rogers has survived longer than many of our friendships. But when New Jersey and New York travelers are choosing between Shake Shack and Pret a Manger, and Pennsylvanians are debating whether this Sbarro feels better or worse than the last one, something has gone off the rails.
A C+ feels right. The food won’t kill you. It will fill the void. It might even unlock a memory of your mom liking Roy Rogers, which is sweet in its own way. But if the Turnpike is going to keep charging premium tolls, it might eventually want to acknowledge that the rest of the world moved on from mall food courts, and took better rest-stop dining with it.
Eagles quarterback Tanner McKee hands off the football to running back Tank Bigsby against the Las Vegas Raiders in the fourth quarter on Sunday, December 14, 2025, in Philadelphia.
Eagles resting the starters (and trusting the vibes): B+
This is one of those decisions that feels smart, responsible, and completely terrifying all at once … which means it’s extremely on brand for Philadelphia football.
The Eagles are essentially turning Week 18 into a spa day for Jalen Hurts and most of the starters, handing the keys to Tanner McKee and asking the football gods to be normal about it. On paper, it makes sense. They’ve been here before. Sirianni keeps pointing out that the two Super Bowl runs came with byes, rest, and fresh legs. He’s not wrong. The scars from 2023 — A.J. Brown getting hurt in a meaningless finale, Hurts dislocating a finger — are still very much part of the group chat.
But this is Philly, so we can’t just rest people quietly.
Because technically, this game still matters. There’s still a path to the No. 2 seed. There’s still a chance to build offensive momentum, which has been… inconsistent, let’s say. And instead, the Eagles are choosing peace. Or at least the idea of it.
If McKee plays well, WIP will combust. If he struggles, everyone will retroactively insist the starters should’ve played. There is no outcome where this doesn’t get litigated.
SEPTA 33 bus picking up passengers at 13th and Market Street, Center City Philadelphia, Monday, December 8, 2025.
If you rode transit even semiregularly this year, you don’t need a recap. You felt it in missed connections, sudden service cuts, mystery delays, and that low-grade anxiety that comes from not knowing whether your train is late, canceled, or quietly on fire. Five Regional Rail fires. A trolley tunnel that closed, reopened, and closed again. A budget cliff so real it had a dollar amount attached to it. Near-strikes. Court-ordered service reversals. Emergency money parachuting in at the last second like SEPTA is a reality show contestant who keeps surviving elimination.
The most Philly part? SEPTA technically survived. Barely. With duct tape, emergency funds from Gov. Josh Shapiro, and the kind of last-minute labor deal that had everyone holding their breath. There’s something almost admirable about how resilient the system is — not because it’s thriving, but because it simply refuses to collapse on schedule.
To be fair, some things improved. Serious crime dropped. Fare evasion finally got gates and consequences. SEPTA moved hundreds of thousands of people for the Super Bowl parade without melting down, which honestly might have been the most impressive transit achievement of the year.
But none of that erases the larger truth: SEPTA spent 2025 lurching from crisis to crisis, stuck in the same funding limbo it’s been warning about for years, with riders paying the price in time, stress, and reliability. The money fixes were temporary. The politics were familiar. And the promise for 2026 is essentially: please let us just do the basics.
That’s a low bar… and one SEPTA hasn’t consistently cleared in a while.
New Jersey’s minimum wage lapping Pennsylvania: D (for us)
We love to say we’re better than New Jersey. Spiritually. Culturally. Hoagie-wise. But on minimum wage? Absolutely not. Not even close.
New Jersey is heading into 2026 with a $15.92 minimum wage, adjusted for inflation like it’s a normal, functioning place that occasionally updates laws to reflect reality. Pennsylvania, meanwhile, is still parked at $7.25 — the same number it’s been since 2009, back when we all thought flip phones might be making a comeback.
That gap isn’t just embarrassing; it’s structural. You can cross the bridge and make more than double per hour doing the same work. And while yes, New Jersey is more expensive overall, that doesn’t magically excuse Pennsylvania paying wages that don’t come close to covering basic needs. Even the MIT living wage calculator, which is not exactly a radical think tank, says Pennsylvanians need far more than $7.25 to survive. Shock.
Philly has been stuck in the same frustrating loop for years. The city wants the power to set its own minimum wage. The governor supports raising it. Bills exist. Rallies happen. And yet nothing changes, leaving workers watching Jersey do the thing we keep promising to “get to.”
Daniel Rodriguez travels through Philadelphia’s Suburban Station on Friday, Dec. 19, 2025, in Philadelphia. Rodriguez uses the station to commute between Philadelphia and metro Atlanta, taking a train from Center City to Philadelphia International Airport before boarding flights to and from his company’s Atlanta office.
Flying to Atlanta twice a week so you can keep living in a Jewelers’ Row apartment with your wife, avoid owning a car, and still make your job work is the kind of stubborn, impractical devotion this city respects. It’s extreme. It’s exhausting. It makes no sense on paper. And yet it somehow feels more reasonable than moving to the suburbs.
This isn’t about hustle culture or going viral (though he did). It’s about refusing to uproot your life because the job market is broken, SEPTA is unreliable, and cities don’t always make it easy to stay. Instead of leaving Philly, Rodriguez made the commute worse. Heroic behavior.
Is it sustainable? Questionable. Is it environmentally clean? Debatable. Is it the most Philly response imaginable to a bad system? Absolutely.
Just a week ago, in my last column of 2025 I said I was looking forward. So where do I go in the very first column of 2026?
When you drive for decades all over the city on assignment certain streets, buildings or neighborhoods tilt you toward the past.
Memories don’t just live in one place but are scattered across the map, waiting around a corner, or sitting on a stoop like an old friend. Every recurring event or anniversary replays images in my head.
An empty Convention Center hours before Fancy Brigade members arrive for a night of finishing the construction of their stage sets.
I went to the Convention Center two days before the Mummers Parade, looking as I have many times, to make a photo ahead of the event.
But this year, there were no Fancy Brigade members in the cavernous room. Nobody working on their elaborate stage sets or rehearsing their Broadway-quality choreographed performances.
As a cost-cutting measure this year, the clubs only booked the hall (and union workers) for an eight-hour shift in the evening. No early overtime.
So there I was, “seeing” feathered and sequined Mummer ghosts of my memory dancing through the hall. Then, like in the 2006 movie Night at the Museum. I almost wondered if a Greek god, 15 foot high Tiki figure or jester would suddenly come alive.
Mummers Museum president Brian Donnelly crawls inside to demonstrat marching in a large Fancy Division frame suit while giving Avril Davidge a tour.
The next day she was to live her dream of going to the parade. I wondered what she was thinking the next day, even as I photographed it for my umpteenth time, collecting more memories and learning, as always, how to see things in new ways.
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:
Dec. 29, 2025: Canada geese at sunrise in Evans Pond in Haddonfield, during the week of the Winter Solstice for the Northern Hemisphere. December 22, 2025: SEPTA trolley operator Victoria Daniels approaches the end of the Center City Tunnel, heading toward the 40th Street trolley portal after a tour to update the news media on overhead wire repairs in the closed tunnel due to unexpected issues from new slider parts.December 15, 2025: A historical interpreter waits at the parking garage elevators headed not to a December crossing of the Delaware River, but an event at the National Constitution Center. General George Washington was on his way to an unveiling of the U.S. Mint’s new 2026 coins for the Semiquincentennial, December 8, 2025: The Benjamin Franklin Bridge and pedestrians on the Delaware River Trail are reflected in mirrored spheres of the “Weaver’s Knot: Sheet Bend” public artwork on Columbus Boulevard. The site-specific stainless steel piece located between the Cherry Street and Race Street Piers was commissioned by the City’s Public Art Office and the Delaware River Waterfront Corporation and created and installed in 2022 by the design and fabrication group Ball-Nogues Studio. The name recalls a history that dominated the region for hundreds of years. “Weaver’s knot” derives from use in textile mills and the “Sheet bend” or “sheet knot” was used on sailing vessels for bending ropes to sails. November 29, 2025: t’s ginkgo time in our region again when the distinctive fan-shaped leaves turn yellow and then, on one day, lose all their leaves at the same time laying a carpet on city streets and sidewalks. A squirrel leaps over leaves in the 18th Century Garden in Independence National Historical Park Nov. 25, 2025. The ginkgo (Ginkgo biloba) is considered a living fossil as it’s the only surviving species of a group of trees that existed before dinosaurs. Genetically, it has remained unchanged over the past 200 million years. William Hamilton, owner the Woodlands in SW Phila (no relation to Alexander Hamilton) brought the first ginkgo trees to North America in 1785.November 24, 2025: The old waiting room at 30th Street Station that most people only pass through on their way to the restrooms has been spiffed up with benches – and a Christmas tree. It was placed there this year in front of the 30-foot frieze, “The Spirit of Transportation” while the lobby of Amtrak’s $550 million station restoration is underway. The 1895 relief sculpture by Karl Bitter was originally hung in the Broad Street Station by City Hall, but was moved in 1933. It depicts travel from ancient to modern and even futuristic times. November 17, 2025: Students on a field trip from the Christian Academy in Brookhaven, Delaware County, pose for a group photo in front of the Liberty Bell in Independence National Historical Park on Thursday. The trip was planned weeks earlier, before they knew it would be on the day park buildings were reopening after the government shutdown ended. “We got so lucky,” a teacher said. Then corrected herself. “It’s because we prayed for it.” November 8, 2025: Multitasking during the Festival de Día de Muertos – Day of the Dead – in South Philadelphia.November 1, 2025: Marcy Boroff is at City Hall dressed as a Coke can, along with preschoolers and their caregivers, in support of former Mayor Jim Kenney’s 2017 tax on sweetened beverages. City Council is considering repealing the tax, which funds the city’s pre-K programs. October 25, 2025: Austin Gabauer, paint and production assistant at the Johnson Atelier, in Hamilton Twp, N.J. as the finished “O” letter awaits the return to Philadelphia. The “Y” part of the OY/YO sculpture is inside the painting booth. The well-known sculpture outside the Weitzman National Museum of American Jewish History was removed in May while construction continues on Market Street and has been undergoing refurbishment at the Atelier at the Grounds for Sculpture outside of Trenton.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.
Nicole Michalik spends her afternoons talking directly to Philadelphians as they make their way home. As a host on 92.5 XTU, the city’s country music station, she’s on air from 2 to 7 p.m., juggling live breaks, listener calls, and interviews with artists like Luke Combs and Parker McCollum. Radio, she insists, is still relevant, “sexy” even. “I’m live, I’m local, I’m talking about stuff that’s going on in Philly,” Michalik said. What more could you want?
Michalik lives in Midtown Village, but her days stretch across the city, including a trek to Bala Cynwyd, where the radio station is located. She loves her job. In fact, she loves it so much that her perfect Philly day includes a trip to the office. Here’s what else it includes.
This interview has been lightly edited for clarity.
7:30 a.m.
I usually wake up somewhere between 7 and 7:30. First thing I do is check socials and email, then I make coffee at home. I need it piping hot. I use a Keurig — no judgment — with organic half-and-half.
I take it back to bed and do my Instagram bit, “Coffee Under the Covers.” I started it during COVID and it just became a thing. I’ll take a sip and talk about whatever’s on my mind. People have sent me mugs. It’s wild.
After that, I record my Boston radio show from home. I’m on Country 102.5 up there, so I have a whole setup — computer, mic, everything. I want it to feel as local as possible, even though I’m not physically there.
10 a.m.
I force myself to work out. I walk to XForce to train with James, who keeps me accountable. I hate working out, but I don’t hate it there, so that’s a win for me.
When I cross Broad Street, I always take a photo of City Hall and post the temperature. It’s become a thing. One of my friends who lives in Portugal checks it every day. He calls me his Cecily Tynan.
11:30 a.m.
After the gym, I get my hair blown out at Dina Does Glam inside Sola Salons at 15th and Walnut. I go at least once a week. I love that Sola lets people in the beauty industry run their own little studios.
From there, I walk to Gran Caffè L’Aquila for an iced coffee. It’s the best iced coffee in the city. That’s nonnegotiable.
I try to head home after that, because if I don’t, I’ll get sucked into Sephora buying makeup I absolutely do not need.
1 p.m.
I get ready for work and drive to Bala Cynwyd. On the way, I stop at the Starbucks on City Avenue. I order an iced Americano with almond milk and a drizzle of caramel. They know me there.
I don’t even know if caffeine really affects me that much. I just love the ritual. I like sipping it throughout the show.
Nicole Michalik works at 925XTU on Monday, Dec. 1, 2025 in Philadelphia.
2 to 7 p.m.
I’m live on the air. On my perfect day, I’m doing a Zoom interview with Luke Combs, and he finally announces he’s coming back to Philly. We’ve been mad at him for skipping us for a few years, so this would be huge.
7:30 p.m.
After work, I meet friends at Lark in Bala Cynwyd. It’s right across from the station, and it’s one of my favorite places. I’m ordering the gnocco fritto — they’re like little puffy clouds with lemon ricotta — and the striped bass. Nick Elmi just knows what he’s doing.
9 p.m.
I’m heading to a Sixers game. In my perfect world, it’s the Eastern Conference finals, Joel Embiid has great knees, and we’re winning. I live in the city and love walking everywhere, but I also love that Philly is easy to drive around — as long as the PPA doesn’t get you.
11 p.m.
Once 11 p.m. hits — I’m like Cinderella — I’m ready for bed. I love going home to put my pajamas on.
Nowhere will celebrate America’s 250th anniversary like Philadelphia. Because nowhere else can celebrate the national milestone like Philadelphia.
Philly is where it happened.
Only in Philadelphia, on July 4, 1776, did 56 sweat-soaked delegates of the Second Continental Congress stride into sweltering Independence Hall to stake their necks on an idea. In the course of human events, it had become time to declare self-evident truths. All men are created equal and endowed by certain unalienable rights.
Some men, that is.
This unforgivable erasure would have reverberations to this day. Nowhere are the centuries-old wounds of that betrayal more visible than in the unrelenting poverty, violence, and inequality preventing so many Philadelphians from their pursuit of happiness.
But the manifesto was still the most revolutionary freedom document humankind ever produced. A single piece of parchment composed of elegant, unwavering prose that defied and dared an empire, forever reordered the rights of man, and drew the eyes of humanity — and judgments of history — upon our humble burg.
Their work for the day done — and in keeping with the rest of the Founders’ stay in the City of Brotherly Love — the framers presumably dusted off their wigs, loosened up their waistcoats, and repaired to the cooling comfort of the City Tavern for a rager for the ages.
Only in Philadelphia.
Independence Hall in Independence National Historical Park Jan. 3, 2024. one of the Philadelphia region’s most visited areas, but the lustre has often seem faded in its grounds and buildings. But organizers say it will be different in time for 2026, the 250th birthday celebration of America.
‘Philly is beyond ready’
Two-and-half centuries later, the eyes of the world again fall upon our Philly — for yet another rager for the ages.
In Philly fashion, the city’s preparations for the 250th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration of Independence, also known as the Semiquincentennial, stumbled to a rocky start. Poor funding, a lack of leadership, and miscommunication plagued early stages of Philly’s 250th party planning.
But in truer Philly fashion, dozens of passionate Philadelphian civil servants, cultural leaders, artists, volunteers, and philanthropies rallied to ensure the city where it happened met the moment.
Only a year ago, during a 2026 preparedness meetings, worried planners requested $100 million from city and state coffers to fund festivities and programming worthy of democracy’s birthplace. They have received it.
“A year ago, we were having a conversation about, ‘Are we ready?’, ‘Is the money there?’, ‘Can we pull this off?’” said Max Weisman, an aide to Councilmember Isaiah Thomas, a key planner. “Yes, yes, yes.”
Philadelphia is ready, the planners say. Have no doubt.
These Philly-loving patriots say they have organized a once-in-a-lifetime party equal to the city’s unparalleled role in history — and its irrepressibly proud personality.
“Philly is beyond ready,” said Kathryn Ott Lovell, president and CEO of the Philadelphia Visitor Center Corporation and Philadelphia250, the city’s key planning partner for 2026. “Everyone is pulling out the red carpet. Every museum. Every cultural institution. Every neighborhood organization. Everyone is doing something special for the company that’s coming.”
In this depiction published in The Inquirer July 1, 1951, the first event of July 4, 1876, was a huge military parade. The celebration was held in Independence Square after the parade.
A ‘reintroduction to the world’
Look around. Everywhere signs abound of the already-underway party. In the scores of new museum exhibits grandly exploring every power and contradiction enshrined in the declaration bellowed out of Philadelphia 250 years ago. In the abundance of plans for neighborhood programming and beautifications that bring the party to the people in 2026. In new ventures honoring Philly diversity and pride. In the polish and paint in the works for the Historic District.
Hey, Philly cleans up when it needs to.
It was visible when a parade of ships sailed along the Delaware in October to kick off the 250th anniversary of the Navy, founded in Philly. And it was heard in the crisp salutes and solemn hymns of the Marines who crowded Old City in November to mark their branch’s founding, also in Philly in 1775. It builds in the excitement of clock-ticking preparations for the string of big-ticket events that will grace Philadelphia in 2026.
Six FIFA World Cup matches, with a summer fan festival and volunteer-training campus. The MLB All-Star Game. A pumped-up Fourth of July with to-be-announced special guests. TED Democracy talks featuring citizen speakers from Philly and beyond, exploring democracy’s painful past and uncertain present.
It rings out in the genuine excitement of Philadelphians who work in ceaseless dedication to the principle that Philadelphians know how to throw a party.
Philadelphia is not screwing up a party, is Weisman’s mantra (except he doesn’t say, “screwing.”)
Matthew Skic, of Morristown, N.J., Director of Collections and Exhibitions, (left), and Michael Hensinger, of Fishtown, Pa., Senior Manager of K-12 Education, (right), are dressed as Minute Men from the Massachusetts Militia at the opening of the exhibit Banners of Liberty which showcased the original revolutionary war flags at the Museum of the American Revolution in Philadelphia, Pa., on Saturday, April 19, 2025.
Not just a party. A year-long, city-wide commemoration that delivers Philadelphia into a more prosperous future. Before city planners found their 250th footing, Philly tourism and cultural leaders banded together to seize the opportunity. With more than500,000 visitors expected for the World Cup alone, they aim to reintroduce Philadelphia to the world.
“Or introduce ourselves for the very first time to people who do not know Philadelphia or have a very narrow view of Philadelphia,” said Angela Val, president and CEO of Visit Philadelphia, the nonprofit that serves as the city’s official leisure-tourism marketing agency. “We don’t take these big events lightly. They are investments. This is really an opportunity to set ourselves up for success in 2026 and beyond.”
Parties of the past
We’ve been here before.
Every 50 years since 1876, the nation’s Centennial year, and America’s first major birthday bash, Philly has dusted off its wig to get down. Each of these events came with larger national wounds.
“Before every one of these fairs, there’s a scar,” said David Brigham, librarian and CEO of the Historical Society of Pennsylvania, referring to Philly’s previous national birthday parties. “There’s always been a conflict and a pain.”
And in these moments, Philly has strove to be a salve, he said. Most of the time, anyway.
In 1876, when America reeled from unhealed wounds of the Civil War, Philadelphia built a small city in Fairmount Park — and hosted 10 million people from 37 countries. The showcase of growing American innovation and economic prowess aimed to heal a ruptured nation. Memorial Hall, its massive art gallery, remains today as the Please Touch Museum.
In 1926, as America emerged from the carnage of World War I, our Sesquicentennial marked the building of the Ben Franklin Bridge, the transformation of what is now FDR Park, and the construction of a temporary, gleaming, utopian metropolis in South Philly.
The Bicentennial in 1976 led to the creation of the Mann Center and the African American Museum in Philadelphia, even if the party itself was marred by Mayor Frank Rizzo’s heavy-handed security — he summoned 15,000 National Guard members.
We’ve been here before. And we aren’t perfect.
As ready as Philadelphia stands, next year’s commemoration will not include the big legacy projects of past celebrations, the bridges, stadium, and new museums.
But maybe that’s not what this moment is about, anyway.
An unfinished journey
Just as past planners grappled with the questions of their American moment, Philadelphia organizers wrestle with ours.
“It’s a commemoration of why our republic was created,” Lovell said. “But also about a recommitment to the ideals that were established. We were founded on these basic principles and values that the Founding Fathers fought over. And we’re still fighting over it.”
It’s that same theme — the grand fragility of our American experiment — that pulses though the Museum of the American Revolution’s landmark exhibit, “The Declaration’s Journey.”
A breath-taking assemblage of rare artifacts, including Thomas Jefferson’s writing chair and Martin Luther King’s prison bench, the museum’s most ambitious show ever explores the 250-year global impact of the declaration. How words proclaimed out from Philadelphia inspired revolutions and freedom movements throughout the centuries
“The American Revolution is not synonymous with the Revolutionary War,” said R. Scott Stephenson, president of the museum. “It is a centuries-long, ongoing experiment in liberty, equality, and self-government.”
And that journey’s not yet over.
The birth of democracy in Philadelphia, and the worldwide struggle to sustain it, represents the most significant event since the birth of Christ, said filmmaker Ken Burns. (And here we though it was Super Bowl LII.)
The American war may be over, but the revolution is not, said Burns, whose 12-hour docuseries, “The American Revolution,” is streaming on PBS.
All we were promised was the pursuit, he said. And the chance to forever make the imperfect a little less so.
The republic the Founders forged in the Philly heat stands the most divided and tested it has been in decades, with core disagreements about its very foundations.
It is only right, then, that Philadelphians march onto the global stage. Who else but us?
In every way, being America’s birthplace shapes Philadelphia. Where else is its hallowed iconography such a daily staple? Where else does its symbolism so powerfully frame every civic successes — and failure? Every sports triumph and cultural happening. Every step forward; every stumble backward.
Where else does the promise and contradictions of a proclamation that turned the world upside down so intrinsically coarse through the lifeblood of a place?
