Last night, the Yankees took their first World Series title in 9 years after beating the Philadelphia Phillies 7-3. Now, while Philadelphians curse NYC for the next six months, us New Yorkers can get back to reveling in our superiority and ignoring lesser cities. Or we can take pity on the land of cream cheese and throw them bone without suffering the Turnpike.
Philly's influence might have peaked with Betsy Ross, but New York has seen a handful of recent, not entirely unwelcome incursions by the City of Brotherly Love:
99 Miles to Philly: 94 3rd Avenue. Few foods are more closely identified with their birthplace than the cheesesteak is with Philadelphia. In addition to reminding us of our safe distance from the Pennsylvania capital, 99 Miles serves up Philly's famed gut-busters to a gluttonous East Village crowd. Go for authentic and order a cheesesteak whiz wit (with cheese whiz and fried onions"-the only true option-in Philly parlance).
Santigold: Continuing the proud tradition of hinterland talents drawn to the bright lights, big city, Santogold (fka Santogold) left her native Philadelphia to settle in NYC in 2005. She even wrote a great New York song, L.E.S. Artists, singing "I left my home to disappear is all." Happily for us, she had no such luck.
Morimoto and Buddakan: 88 10th Avenue and 75 9th Avenue Steven Starr holds sway over Philly's restaurant scene the way Keith McNally, Danny Meyer and Daniel Boulud might over New York's if they were all rolled into one. The kind of ornate, steroidal restaurant he brought to the Meatpacking District might have seemed passe a week after it arrived, but Starr's two blockbusters are blessed with food good enough to keep them afloat.
Phileo: 267 Bleecker Street. New York is not exactly suffering from a dearth of garishly lit florescent fro-yo joints. But at least this Philly-based entry is less ominous (in questionable hype and mysterious ingredients) as Pinkberry. And if we have to accept chains from other cities, we'll take Philadelphia over LA any day.
It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia: Thursdays at 10pm on F/X. The best Philly export since Rocky Balboa. Sunny is mostly set in Paddy's, a perpetually empty bar run by a gang of alcohol and drug-dependent narcissists. A cruder Seinfeld, with loathsome Irish-Catholic drunks replacing loathsome Jewish neurotics, It's Always Sunny's hilarious brand of misantrhopy suits the moods of Phillies fans and New York grouches alike.