Yesterday was one of the best days in the Italian Market. I was with a new friend who had only been there once and very briefly, so we got to do some fun exploring. First, we walked through the market to browse the stalls and then went to Sarcone's where they only had one loaf left - lucky for me it was seeded (my fave). Then we trekked to Isgro's to split a biscotti (free!) and a cannoli (not free). After that we picked up some iced tea at Anthony's and then went immediately to Claudio.
She had been in DiBruno before, but never Claudio. I will always love that look of awe that people get when they see those punching bags of provolone for the first time. We searched for pastas (I bought some black farfalle to try) and landed at the counter. Mike, one of the usual servers, waited on us. After he took us to the end of the counter and gathered the things we had already picked out, he listened to our initial orders and went to retrieve them (2 mozzarella balls, 1/4 lb. Italian prosciutto). While slicing the prosciutto, he remarked to me, "You know, it's a shame Tom isn't here to help you!"
Tom is probably my favorite guy at Claudio. He's somewhere in his 40s (maybe 50s) with a mop of curly hair just reaching the top of his glasses. He's the first one who ever recognized me in the store, and that was after over six months of not seeing me. Every time I go in, whether or not he waits on me, he always stops to talk, ask how things are going, how was my holiday, what's new, etc. Any sample he passes to his customers, he always makes sure I get a bite, too. In September, my mom and I tried to go to Villa di Roma for lunch, but they were closed, so we decided to go to Ralph's instead. As we turned around to head back up 9th Street, we ran into Tom stepping out of Claudio. He instantly greeted me and went on his way, and my mom turned to me and said, "You're right. They
do recognize you here. Even on the street."
Mike sliced the prosciutto and continued with, "I haven't seen you around in a while - where you been hiding?" I told him that I hadn't really had a chance to get down there what with schoolwork and all. He asked me where I live - I said West Philly. He replied, "Ohhhh, I thought you lived down
here!" I wish!
We sampled the prosciutto and the Prima Donna cheese I bought. In addition to those, we tried their 25-year-old vinegar at my request, and Mike brought us a bunch of other things for us to try (I can't even remember the names of them all): a lemon-type deserty cheese, another cheese with cranberries, a wonderfully light and smooth goat's cheese, a roasted turkey with herbs that was sliced like prosciutto, and their sundried tomatoes.
Unless they are ridiculously busy (like Christmas Eve when the line is out the door), the samples that flow from behind the counter are amazing, both in quality and in quantity. One of my best friends makes me order for him when we go there, because (according to him) I get better and bigger samples than he does. Once when we went down there, we were being waited on by one guy, but another server kept bringing us stuff as well. He's a round guy in his 30s with a smile for everyone. As we ordered our food, he kept walking down the entire length of the counter to hand me different cheeses and -- right before we left -- a fist-sized chunk of nougat. All for free.
All of the employees are great in their own ways: the old man is funny and charming in that South Philly Italian way ("This next cheese was named after you...
Prima Donna!"), the quiet guy rounds your bill down to the nearest dollar for ease, the youngest guy gives you great banter while you wait...it's wonderful customer service. If they love you, you get great conversation and loads of samples. If you're new, they treat you like they've known you for years to get you to come back -- and you will, cause you can't beat the atmosphere.
I was paying for my order with the gift card my uncle had bought me, and my friend remarked that it's exactly what she wants, but her mom lives in LA and wouldn't be able to get her one. I suggested maybe checking online or getting a business card so she could call one in. She said that sounded like a great idea, and apparently the old man thought it was, too. He leaned over the counter, handed her a few business cards and said, "We also do shipments, dear." He smiled and went back to his customers.
As we stepped toward the door, I said to Mike, "I promise I won't wait as long to come back next time." He said, "Great! See you next weekend!" I laughed, knowing that I won't have to come back next weekend, that the only possible thing I could "need" would be another mozzarella ball, but my best friend said he's in desperate need of things, which means I'll have some ordering to do.
After all that we went to Fante's where I got some Japanese Sencha green tea I've been looking for and a tea infuser. Strolling happily down 9th Street, our arms loaded with bags of food, much like Christmas shoppers and their dozens of boxes and bags from Macy's in New York City, we considered the day well spent.
A couple summers ago, I went to the market in the middle of the day in the middle of the week -- perfect, because everything's open, but no one's around. I stepped into Claudio, munching on Sarcone's loaves as I placed my order. The youngest guy brought me my samples of prosciutto and Prima Donna and I said, "I've been waiting for this all day!"
"Really? You've been waiting for this all day?" he laughed. I nodded as I ate, and he brought me a big sample of their punching bag provolone. We kept talking for a while until the old man came up, pointed at the loaves in my arms, and said to the guy, "You know, you should cut this young lady's rolls and go sit down at a table and eat somewhere." He blushed and we laughed, but all I could think was "You have
cheese. Marry me!"
They say the quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach. Obviously, whoever said that never met me.
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