It may have a reputation as a hard-bitten, tough-talking town, but Philadelphia has plenty to offer – just make sure to try the famous Philly cheesesteak, writes FIONN DAVENPORT
IT HAPPENED when I lived in New York, when I was an . . . escort. Actually, I was more than an escort. I was a male prostitute.” The words tumbled out of our guide Jamie’s mouth as we sat drinking beer in the cocooned balcony of the North Bowl, a bowling alley in a converted mechanic’s garage, in the Northern Liberties section of Philadelphia, just north of the city centre. This once-rundown neighbourhood has been given the developer’s touch and is now a favourite of young professionals and artistic types who love the area’s blue-collar bone fides but don’t want to walk too far for good sushi.
Jamie was our guide for the Taste of Northern Liberties tour ( cityfoodtours.com/philadelphia). He was full of knowledge, about the area (the perfect "five-minute neighbourhood": you can eat, work, live and play within a five-minute radius), about the city at large and, because he couldn't help himself, about the latest celebrity gossip.
In between edgy anecdotes, hilarious nonsequiturs and details about his troubled personal history, he brought us around a selection of local eateries, each more interesting than the last.
There was soul food at the wonderful A Full Plate Cafe ( afullplate.com) – imaginative interpretations of macaroni-and-cheese (three kinds of cheese), fried green tomatoes and hush puppies. There was the light-as-air cheesecake of 1950s-style Darling's Diner ( darlingsdiner.com) and, at the plain-looking Euphoria Cafe (1001 N 2nd Street), the city's best bubble tea – basically a tapioca slushy. Liquid refreshment came in the bowling alley, care of two local ales (Philadelphia has a rich brewing tradition – John Wagner brewed America's first lager here in 1840), the light-coloured PBC Walt Whitman and the darker Yard's Brawler. It was here that Jamie saw fit to share his past with us. Tour over, we parted the strangest of friends.
Philadelphia's culinary revolution extends far beyond the gentrified houses and converted garages of the Northern Liberties. The city is full of great restaurants, from the divine Fish ( fishphilly.com) to the long-established Waterworks (640 Waterworks Drive), housed in a converted pumping station with a terrace overlooking the Schuylkill River. Sensational views, exceptional service, and the food isn't half bad either.
So far there's been no mention of Philadelphia's most famous foodie creation, the Philly cheesesteak. Gourmets may scoff, but you won't win any friends in this town without trying one: when running for office the first time, Obama got his at the Reading Terminal Market ( readingterminalmarket.org). Four years earlier, Democratic nominee John Kerry stumbled when he ordered his cheesesteak with Swiss cheese. It wasn't just a minor blunder: it showed the US that Kerry hadn't a clue about blue-collar eating habits (and so wasn't really in touch with the voters).
For the record, there are two ways to order your cheesesteak: with provolone or with Cheeze Whizz (liquid cheese in a jar). If you want fried onions, too, you just say: “One provolone with,” or, “One whizz with.” Who knew street food could be so nuanced?
Philadelphia’s reputation as a hard-bitten town full of no-nonsense folk whose favourite meal is an artery-clogging roll of thinly sliced beef and melted cheese is a tough one to live down. It didn’t help that for years its most recognisable work of art was a sculpture of Rocky Balboa, Sylvester Stallone’s fictional boxer, placed dramatically at the top of the steps up to the Philadelphia Museum of Art – where Rocky, the perennial blue-collar underdog (and, presumably, lover of cheesesteaks) celebrated his triumph over adversity (in this case a tough training run) with arms aloft and a pumping musical score. Visitors liked to run the steps, take a photo and leave, the artistic treasures of the museum left unvisited.
The city finally moved the statue to a less conspicuous spot at the bottom of the steps, leaving an unobstructed path for visitors to explore its extraordinary collections (American furniture and a host of Rodin sculptures were two highlights). Friday evenings, see Art After 5 ( philamuseum.org/artafter5), when the Great Stair Hall hosts jazz gigs and serves canapes.
Philly may be a blue-collar town, but it has a blue-blooded pedigree. It was the first planned city in America, founded in 1682 by William Penn and laid out in a simple grid pattern of wide streets and five public squares. One of these, Independence Square, is home to three buildings that witnessed the birth of the US: the Declaration of Independence was drawn up and approved at Independence Hall; the first and second presidents of the new country, George Washington and John Adams, were inaugurated at Congress Hall next door; while the Supreme Court first sat at the Old City Hall.
The history of the newly constituted country is recounted in interactive glory at the National Constitution Center ( nationalconstitutioncenter.org) a couple of blocks away. It's a mightily impressive place, but the best part is having your photo taken while taking the presidential oath of office, delivered by the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, with past presidents and dignitaries looking on: it's all thanks to the joys of digital trickery, but the photo on my wall seems genuine enough, other than the fact that I am taking the oath while wearing a T-shirt.
The centre is also home to the Liberty Bell, which once hung in the tower of Independence Hall. It’s smaller than I had imagined and, though behind a rail, surprisingly accessible: as we were looking at it, a child snuck in and put his hands on it. The security guard ushered him away, but didn’t seem too perturbed by what must be a most natural act to any American – who doesn’t want to put their hands on one of the most sacred relics of US independence?
I've left my favourites to last. The first was a tour of the anatomical and pathological oddities of the Mütter Museum ( collegeofphysicians.org), bequeathed to the College of Physicians of Philadelphia, in 1858, by one Thomas Dent Mütter, a retired professor of surgery at the nearby Jefferson Medical College. Extraordinary (and often tragic) stories retold include that of the "original" conjoined twins, Chang and Eng Bunker, born in Siam (hence the term "Siamese").
The other highlight was a visit to the Barnes Foundation ( barnesfoundation.org), recently relocated to a purpose-built museum on Benjamin Franklin Parkway, by the Rodin Museum (home to the biggest collection of Rodin sculptures outside Paris). The Barnes has the world's largest collection of Renoirs (181) and Cézannes (69) – not to mention 59 Matisses, 46 Picassos, seven Van Goghs and a host of other works.
By way of apology for Philadelphia’s lack of international renown, locals will say it’s only an hour by train to New York and just over 90 minutes to Washington, DC. Which is good to know, I guess, but after a few days in America’s first capital, I wasn’t looking to leave.
How to . . .
Get there:US Airways flies direct to Philadelphia from Dublin; prices start at €550, including taxes; tel: 1890-925065; usairways.com
Where to stay:A good, central hotel choice is Le Meridien Philadelphia, 1421 Arch Street; tel: 001-215-4228200; starwoodhotels.com/lemeridien