Philly for the Uninitiated

 

“Tell me and I forget, teach me and I may remember, involve me and I learn.”
Ben Franklin

A quick tour round Philadelphia brought my attention to that which I had forgotten about the history of this place. My HS text books and movies such as "Rocky" and "National Treasure" didn't really teach me enough to answer some questions that arose on this recent trip to the City of Brotherly Love. 

• Why does the airport Starbucks sell New Jersey mugs if Philadelphia is in PA?
• Who was the King of Prussia and how does he fit into Philadelphia history?
• Why is the Rocky statue at the bottom of the steps?
• What truth is there is the Valley Forge historic hardships?
• What river runs through Philly?
• What is the difference between a cheesesteak and a hoagie?

So this I have learned in the last three days...

Philadelphia airport lies closer to New Jersey (just across the river Delaware) than the city of Philly. And the scenic river that runs through the city is the Schuylkill , which is surprisingly a Dutch name and not a the original Delaware name.

King of Prussia is a large suburb of Philadelphia and is named after a pub. The pub owners wanted to honor the king who supported the American fight for independence and generously sent Barons to train George Washington's troops. These Prussians are not to be confused with the German Hessian troops that fought with the British in the American Revolution.

I was surprised to learn that most of the story of the hardships of Washington's army at Valley Forge are myth. The site was actually a strategically located fort which could support a large city within reach of the British forces and was easily defensible. There were some losses during the 6 month stay, but most deaths were from disease and not starvation or cold. In actual fact, the soldiers were allowed a ration of 1/2 pound of beef a day. Some soldiers were deemed unfit for duty due to lack of clothing, but were easily replaced by well-equipped units. But the romantic tale of Valley Forge is how we want to remember the suffering, yet heroic troops.



I was also surprised not to find the Rocky statue at the top of the famous museum steps featured in the movies, but in fact it hasn't been there since the 1980's. The Art Museum didn't dignify the statue as art and had it moved off site. It wasn't until 2006 that Stallone asked for the statue to be moved back to a location nearby the steps. That is where I found it, near the base of the steps where everyone likes to stop for a selfie before pretending to run up the stairs and dance at the top.

There is still much to learn. However my short time here will not allow an in depth look at Philly culture and history. There are more streets to wander and more treats to taste. I do know that the Philly Cheesesteak we ordered was authentic, and it is not a hoagie. Hoagies are cold sandwiches, and we waited for over 30 minutes for our sandwich. Unlike French fries, the cheesesteak origins can be traced back to a hot dog vendor in Philadelphia who introduced the beef into a bun. 

On a side note, a Philly resident made our tour slightly more confusing by yelling out tourist information to us as he pedaled by on his bike. He buzzed by us three times with various directions to must-see sights, but we had not idea what he was referring to. 

Where do you drink?

 

Certain beverages have left an indelible mark in my memory.  We all have those signature drinks that remind us of special occasions or places.  A simple suggestion of the place brings back memories of the taste, and each sip takes me back to the place.

I began drinking Boldo do Chile in Brazil. No one else in my family understood my liking for the herbal tea that tasted quite sharp and medicinal. I think I was the age where I wanted to be different, break  away from the norms. So I took the tea bags to college, which shocked my UK classmates. It made be feel daring, exotic and strangely unique.

I grew up on good Brazilian coffee... all day long: strong and dark and freshly brewed.  My first job overseas in Bulgaria brought with it the challenge of finding a good cup of coffee. Locals drank strong Turkish coffee out of small paper cups, but it just wasn't the same.  In addition, there was no ground coffee available, only the beans. I remember finally tracking down a small handheld nut grinder and slicing my fingers open while attempting to grind some beans. 

Since then I have become accustomed to coffee of all strengths and roasts, as long as it is black and sugarless. I still grind my own beans if I can, but if you ask me where I've tasted the best coffee, I'll say, "in my pajamas on a lazy Saturday morning."

I discovered Retsina in Greece. In my mind there is no better wine, but then maybe I am confusing its earthy pine flavor with the pleasures of a seaside taverna. And the way the light fresh wine complemented the salad and bread after a relaxing day in the sun, might also have influenced my fond memory. 

The same goes for my homemade mulled wine. It is really just red wine with lemon and apple juice. But it conjures up memories of Christmases around the world: in Rio, on the streets of London, by an open fire in Minnesota. 

The pairing of mulled wine and mince pies goes back centuries, and I find if difficult to think of one without the other. On one memorable Christmas, the British Embassy of Sofia held a carol service and, in true English tradition, we sang old tunes and smelled the mince pies baking in the ovens. After the mulled wine had been distributed, people milled about, children underfoot, like an old movie. 

Another of my favorites will always take me back to Kwajalein, in the Marshall Islands. Happy Hour there was on Saturday at 5:00 pm at the old 'Snake Pit'.  After a week of classes, the teachers would gather on the rocky beach to watch the sun go down and drink gin & tonics. 

As I taught there for 8 years, that should add up to a lot of G&T's. However, the ongoing joke was the haphazard arrival of supplies such as gin and tonic. The island would go months without gin, then as soon as the barge came in, tonic would disappear from the shelves. And as most people will know, there is just no substitutes for either gin or tonic. 

I always marvel when I arrive at a new place, order a G&T, and it is actually served up. I am encountering the same difficulty now in Nigeria.  Such items as milk, juice and tonic are hard to come by, and people tend to hoard when a case is available.  I've started experimenting with other mixers, but secretly long for that bitter quinine taste.

And there are those drinks that just cannot be taken away from their origins. The beverage is a 'one-and-done' sort of experience. There is no replicating the memory in another location.

The dry country of Kuwait drove some people to brew their own wine and beer. But my first taste of a cool mint lemonade in the heat of the desert made me realize that there are better things than alcohol when you feel you're melting.  I have tried to replicate this deliciously cool drink, but without success; mainly because I rarely have that much mint and blender on hand. So I will file the taste away in my memories of delicious moments and, who knows, I may encounter it on other travels, in another place. And it will be a pleasant surprise.

I have not yet found a truly African drink that I can take away with me. Smoothies are seasonal, the weather and food are too hot for cocktails, and I'm just not a bush bar beer drinker. I am noticing a predominance of ginger flavored drinks, but I reach my ginger limit quite quickly.  I'll have to let you know when I find that drink that will remind me forevermore, of Africa.