I Dined Out for Life tonight with four friends I don’t see nearly enough at Mixto (11th and Pine). I had the ropa vieja, which came very highly recommended by Jamie, and was not at all disappointed by it. It is a mess of slow and long-cooked beef in a sauce that is tangy and savory and almost too salty, but somehow always manages to stays on the good side of the salt granule. Between the five of us we decimated two very large pitchers of sangria (there will be a sangria episode of Fork You someday) and heard AnnElise’s tale of woe about finding out 48 hours before her house closing that she might not actually have a job in the town where the house was.
After dinner we found ourselves at Capogiro, where we were pleased to discover that the mini-cone only costs $2.50 and doesn’t seem so mini. After we finished our ice cream, we stood around on the corner of 13th and Sansom, not ready to end the evening quite yet. Shay and I stood tight together on top of a subway vent, taking advantage of the rising steam to keep ourselves warm.
Walking home along Pine Street, I passed a man who was straddling a bike and emptying out the last half of a can of beer onto the sidewalk. As I walked by, he said, “How you doin’ this evening?”
Without even thinking about it (even after five years of Philadelphia living, my pre-programmed west coast manners sometimes assert themselves before I can stop them) I said, “I’m well, and you?”
He looked at me in surprise, as I don’t think he expected any response, and said, “Good, good. Now you get home safe honey, you hear now.”
“Thanks, I will.”
And we both went on our way.