Veg Out: Farmicia and the Summer Ale

This is what my ideal dinner looks like. There's not one bit of meat substitute to be found on the Veggie Plate at Farmicia. As I like small tastes of things, I often seek out platters. I did not imagine that this massive amount of colorful yet simple wonders would arrive. I was expecting something underwhelming. Poached pear with golden raisins, white bean spread, toast points in apple couscous, a rice pilaf, more white beans, asparagus spears, sugarsnap peas, broccoli, mushrooms, and a hunk of sweet potato. The vegetarian sous chef comes up with daily spins on this.

It's time for the Summer Ale.

My partner had the rosemary tofu, and while we found that the rosemary flavor was pleasant and the overall dish partnered with white beans and broccoli was satisfying, it wasn't anything spectacular. Ever since Rich from Horizons showed us how to properly grill tofu, I have been obsessed with making it. You would pay $22 for my tofu. Then you would tip me and buy my pan and ask me what the great secret of life is.

We departed sated, with leftover veggie plate and a fetching black straw fedora slipped over my brain cells. The brain cells that are strong enough to survive the arduous lot of vegetarianism (someone said that to me once and then promptly died from not knowing enough).

Farmicia, 15 S 3rd Street

Mango Lassie

Made with Fage 0%, soy milk, TJ's frozen mango, and half a banana.

Shop Talk: 1 Shot

They advertise the best mocha in the city.

It depends on what you're looking for, but 1 Shot Coffee comes on strong.

"It's the Guatemalan chocolate," they say, brushing it off like it ain't no thang.

Creamy and deep and strange. No crimes here. They're not wrong.

The bagels, I must add, are worth raving about. They come in many veggie preparations, some with capers or peanut butter, one labeled the Sassy bagel, sliced in two halves of of pesto/hummus/tomato on your choice of flavor. Marble. Where else can you find marble?

1 Shot Coffee, Liberties Walk

Candy Bar Vegans

There are vegans who dream about candy bars. Vegans that don't consider Larabars majestic enough. Portland-based company Go Max Go swooped in and veganized America's candy bar prototypes, so that vegan junk foodists nationwide could re-experience the satisfaction of Snickers. Then they sent me samples of all four flavors, and I had no idea what to do with them.

1) I don't eat candy bars. At least I thought I didn't eat candy bars. The concept hurts my brain.

2) I like chocolate and nuts. I like them separate, not together.

3) These are still high in fat and empty calories, with low fiber and jacked with sugar.

4) But. They. Are. FUN.


Jokerz: My boyfriend ate this one in the middle of the night. He thought it was too good to be true/vegan and warned me to get rid of the rest of them before he ate them all. This is modeled after a Snickers bar, with peanuts, caramel, nougat, and a rice-milk chocolate coating. AHA, you consumed rice milk, baby.

Mahalo: Missing your afternoon Mounds/Almond Joy? I wish this was dark chocolate, but it's the same rice-milk chocolate in the other bars. The texture of the coconut is exactly like a Mounds bar. This would probably be extra good frozen.


Buccaneer : This is better than a Three Musketeers and I know this because every Halloween, I usually have a mini one. It's the chocolate nougat. I have soft moments.

Twilight: By far, the tastiest, and yet they were all very delightful and convincing. The Twilight is pure Milky Way, with rich innards of caramel goo and nougat fluff. You will keep looking at the wrapper just to make sure it's vegan. The wrapper is a gorgeous pale purple. Bonus for style.


These are not available in stores in Philadelphia yet, but you can order them online from a few different sites at Go Max Go.

Brought to you by the Letter V

Verde: 13th's newest tenant is a chocolate and flower combo-shop from Valerie Safran and Marcie Turney (Bindi, Lolita, Grocery, Open House, the World). Enticed by the outside display of low-priced house plants, I ventured in searching for a vase, only to be distracted by the various garden tools, floral arrangements, and respectably-chosen merch. S & T could pretty much sell me anything at this point, as long as they placed it in a shop on 13th Street, put up one of their signature signs, and pumped the scent of clean design and innovation into the air. That's just how they do it.

Opt to disagree? Fine, but not over the chocolate. Crafted in a kitchen in the back, encased in a show of inspired tastes, buy four truffles if you've stopped behaving and eight if you plan on sharing. My recommends ahead.

Lolita: peanutty-ridged truffle packing heat
Mexican coffee: chocolate shards of truffle with slick coffee innards
Rose Tattoo: Sailor Jerry rum running with the chocolate pack
Coffee Whiskey: looks like Rose Tatt, tastes like night dripping into morning

Verde, 108 South 13th St.

Varga Bar: Closely related to Verde in that it's cheffed by Evan Turney (Marcie's bro), Varga was packing them in and out this weekend. They've completely maxed out the sidewalk with tables at 10th & Spruce, and while it's not super veg, there's the power of beer and night air. We picked out a trio of American cheeses - the bourbon-misted Up in Smoke (tasted like Greek yogurt, always in a good way), Crater Lake Blue, and a creamy block of San Andreas. Not bad, but hard to fudge up, right? There's also a salad that we can pick at - it had heirloom tomato, grape tomatoes, and Burrata cheese. Keep the heirloom, drop the grape, there's no way any other tomato can dance on the same stage as a ripe heirloom.

Varga Bar, 10th & Spruce

Veg Out: Vino and the PZA

Piazza Pie
Northern Liberties is a dining mecca because it's easy, varied, and relatively inexpensive compared to other zips. It's rapidly morphing into Seitan-adelphia. Even in its blueprint days, when only true visionaries perched there, there was many a vegetarian meal to be had.

Let us now have a moment of silence for the grilled seitan tips at the late Azure.

Let us now admit that its replacement Cantina Dos Segundos has a staggering vegan beef taco.

The only way we could further en-fatten the veg-folk here is if the Falafel Nazi from 20th opened a late-night falafel cart outside of Standard Tap.

Well, that doesn't seem likely, but the Piazza at Schmidts restaurants have finally opened.

So far, I've experienced a cringeworthy wait for breakfast at Darling's. We left after drinking our coffee and twiddling our thumbs, then popped over to El Camino Real for seitan huevos rancheros and crispy-on-the-outside griddlecakes. I use tequila as syrup. I'll go back to Darlings in a few weeks when the staff is ready to pay attention to young, charming pancake-seekers and their contemporaries.

I found dinner at Vino with two vacation vegetarians*. We wanted to be near the goings-on and were attracted to an outdoor table. The kitchen seemed to be running smoothly and the long bar had a nice buzz to it. It was refreshing to have such an extended option of wines by the glass. Typically, NL is my Margaritaville. Sometimes, though, I stray.

When we ordered, our server informed us that the appetizer menu wasn't available until later (we were kind of early), which limited us to the salad/panini/pizza section. That was fine by us, and brought on spinach salad with fig, gorgonzola, and red onion, followed by brick-oven margherita 10-inchers.

The salads were composed a bit unevenly, with dressing puddled on some top leaves of spinach and the rest of a mound of greens bone dry. There were two fig halves buried underneath. When our server asked for feedback, we let him know that they ought to up their fig take on this, as it seemed like a focal point. He promised that our next salad would be figged out.

The house margherita, however, was everything I needed it to be. Thin, bubbly crust and velvety sauce, minimal but precise effects of cheese. Just because I'm veg doesn't mean I always gun for the vegetable pie, but they have one of those, too. By this time we were made aware that the appetizers were all systems go.

The interior is spacious, handsome, and moody, not as casual as the outdoor tables imply. Gals can vamp around in there. Wineos can act up. The other way around if they should like. There's versatility.

And soon, as soon as today, there will be one hell of a fig salad.

The entire menu is up at Meal Ticket, along with the edible layout of the Piazza.

Vino at the Piazza, 1001 N. 2nd St.

*vacation vegetarian - one who dabbles in vegetarianism for any extended period of time to obtain a hot body or optimal health.

Veg Out: Noble Cookery

Poached white asparagus
The downstairs bar at Noble is a long, lean plank. The front table is taken. It opens out as a window onto the sidewalk. My first outing to the Sansom streetery sends me upstairs. The light drifting from the sun-roof is Noble's next distinction. I'd prefer a hint of darkness, but it is just thirty minutes after six on an evening in May. You cannot fool with time.

We can see our food. We can see how good it is. Drink orders in, the bread girl approaches with her basket of olive slices and floury stubs. Honeyed butter hellos.

There's an airy West Coast suggestion in the wood-outfitted room. It's the tongue of the wine, the modern rustic thesis that unfolds. There's the garden on the menu, which includes fresh takes on spring vegetables and a plot of onion-rice pudding.

Roasted Baby Golden Beets, with arugula, pumpkin seed, local goat cheese, tarragon vinaigrette, 10:
Perfectly capable. The beets are edible gems.

Baby Romaine, dried tomato & chili, fresh cheese, cilantro, lime, torn chips, 10:
Another young and able-bodied start, lightly dressed for the weather.



There are no vegetarian entrees. I might request a veggie plate (this almost never fails). I might insist on the veggie burger from the bar menu, because it sounds respectable. Or I might remain confident that the addition of a few sides is all I need.

Poached White Asparagus, domestic summer truffle, Carr Valley Ménage, hazelnut, fried egg, 11:
Proves to be a protein-rich main, topped with a flash-fried, soft-boiled egg. Most fattening, decadent vegetable for miles? N'yet. The onion pudding snags that honor.

Rice & Onion Pudding, preserved tomato, 6:

The generous bowl has the consistency of risotto or grits, pumping with enough onion heart to keep several vegetarians alive.

Pan Roasted Mushrooms, 7:
Of the simple-done-well persuasion, I might be having dessert.



Whenever yogurt attends a dessert menu, I must speak with it. The yogurt Bavarian is a light and safe pleasure, cordoned by a line of dark chili chocolate. The gooseberry bread pudding holds more personality. The tart, cooked gooseberries act like golden raisins and taste like wrinkled peaches. They make me want to dig up a plaid shirt, any plaid shirt, and roll the sleeves up.



Noble Cookery, 2025 Sansom St.

Blueberry Banana Soy Wine

This is not about a blueberry-banana soy smoothie.

This is about new stemware, something nearly as vital as those B vitamins.

Veg Out: Que Chula Es Puebla

I think I have my new favorite byo taqueria. The neon-flagged Que Chula es Puebla is the one thing I would venture to 2nd and Master for.

The top of the waitress's head is lucky to meet my chest, but I place my taco-centric future into this lady's hands.

This blog can't tell you how exact the chips are. They are precise. Sticking up like tombstones in a plot of guacamole, they haunt. The previous hour spent injecting tequila at Cantina Dos Segundos slipped away immediately. Cinco de Mayo is the one holiday that I obey.

Que Chula gives an eggplant torta on that pillowy Mexican bread, spread lightly with mayo and the souls of babies. It's the vegetarian sandwich of the moment.

They do a veggie burrito that's heavy on the rice. Can't call it a burrito without the beans, I say. It wasn't in the same league as the burritos at Jose's or Los Jalapenos, and I wouldn't order it again, knowing this. But I'm looking forward to the other meatless wonders on the menu.

It was the air in Que Chula that won me over. The kitchen was lively, the small dining room even more so, with free Coronas and complimentary frozen margaritas cast about. The lighting was eerie and wonderful. The music didn't make me feel like a fraud. I've served a good two years at South Philly Taqueria Row, and I've never been in love. Que Chula is still new, but it very well could be more than a one night stand.

Que Chula es Puebla, 2nd & Master

Veg Outing During Which My Right Hand Gay Does Not Approve

We decided to humor the cocktail menu at Ladder 15.

Rules are that the textbook gay has to order the Cherry Water Ice with Pop Rocks.

He doesn't like it. But it's compelling to listen to.

Those of us that drink beer are less disappointed, but still unmoved. We couldn't bring ourselves to load up on liquid candy.

Why do restaurants insist on serving fries in spiral cones? Is it a way to skimp on frites? Explain yourselves. We're not in Belgium. This ain't no vegan focaccia. (See previous post, in which vegan focaccia can do no wrong).

The fried shallots need to come with instructions. They're not bad, but how do you eat these without losing shallot bits in the dipping sauce? There is no way to gracefully scoop these up without a fork, except they're hiding in one of those spiral cyclones, which is akin to eating an ice cream cone with a fork. If it were fried. You know how I feel.

Truffled flatbread was genuinely tasty. I believe that's because there was no dipping sauce or candy garnish involved. One sliver of the rich, cheesy adult-pizza and you're sated.

Roasted beets were ordered out of necessity to balance out the fried buffet. That, and we are flirting heavily with beets lately.

Finally, the VLT in all its glory. A layered structure of smoked mushroom was curiously partnered with potato sticks, lettuce, and tomato on some seriously decent bread. I zombied in on the bread. I was not too cute on the mushrooms, as the "smokiness" really just sang of too much balsamic marinade to me. The brown sugar barely came through.


We have a case of a kitchen that's trying too hard, combined with a bar that's not trying enough. This is Sansom St., home to the best bikini wax in the world. You need to hang with those guys. There's no room for high-ceiling bars that bury shallots in trends.

I should have tried the grilled romaine.

Ladder 15, 1528 Sansom St.

Outer Horizons

Snagging a table at Horizons at the last minute is often a game of chance. With the addition of outdoor seating and the renovated downstairs now in operation, there's now a greater shot at consumptory pleasure. The sidewalk tables are open to anyone that happens to be strolling up 7th Street.

The cocktail menu has a new look, now with a downstairs bar to execute it. Just like in the old days. Our party of three sucked down South Philly Slings, a right hit of Bluecoat gin, Campari, and agave.

The ever-precious focaccia always stays the same, rightly so. You can't mess with some things.

For once, I stayed away from the protein-aplenty entrees, and composed my meal from the appetizers. The graceful portobella carpaccio held tender strips of the juicy forest flesh, drizzled with enough oil to satisfy, and black olive blini. The chopped salad was bright with tiny chunks of creamy avocado, cactus, and crouton. I snuck a bite of the salt-roasted golden beets and peppercorn tofu housed in creaminess.

Horizons, 611 S. 7th St.,