THE SLOW SEASON
Winter’s cozy vibes have a way of drawing us closer together—around tables, into kitchens, and toward the people who make sharing a meal feel like coming home.
This issue celebrates connection in all its forms. It’s our first wedding guide, and you’ll get the scoop on Edible Philly’s own art director’s recent wedding. Plus, there’s practical inspiration: sustainable tips from a seasoned wedding pro, edible favor ideas your guests will actually want, and a directory of vendors ready to help you craft your own celebration.
But commitment takes many shapes. In our feature on the Potluck pilot program, we explore a different kind of vow—one made between neighbors willing to swap home-cooked meals and, in doing so, build community one dish at a time. Launched in partnership with Binding Agents, this meal-sharing experiment asks a simple question: What happens when we trust strangers with our cooking? The answer, it turns out, is something wonderful, according to Ellen Miller’s essay.
Speaking of trust and tradition, local author Mike Madaio dives into the rise of the alternative cheesesteak. Purists, stay with me. Across the city, chefs are reimagining Philly’s most iconic sandwich through the lens of their own heritage—adding berbere spice, jerk seasoning, oxtail, and more. It’s a story about honoring the original while making space for new voices at the table.
For me nothing is better during the winter (or any time of year) than reading under a blanket. So I was thrilled to sit down with author Jo Piazza to talk about how Philadelphia’s restaurant scene shapes her sensational novels.
And because winter calls for comfort, we’re sharing a recipe for pasta fagioli—the kind of bowl that warms you from the inside out.
Here’s to the meals that bring us together.
Joy Manning
Editor, Edible Philly
FOR THE LOVE OF LEARNING
I’m currently writing this letter sitting by a fire while the rest of my family is hitting the first chairlift of the morning. I’ll get out there a little later and join them at the more reasonable hour of 10am for the rest of the day before we head to the fire pit for some aprés. This year, I am learning to ski again – something I haven’t done in about thirty years. After a couple of years skiing when I was younger, I’ve been snowboarding at least once a season for most of my life, so I’m no stranger to the ski slope. But this year I decided to try skiing again as I felt it would be easier to join my family and help teach my son to ski (easier to stop and get to my kid if he needs a hand, no helplessly hopping along the flatter parts, or stopping to strap in at the top of the lift. IYKYK)
I have one day re-learning to ski as a 45-year old under my belt, and let me tell you, it’s humbling. It’s been challenging to be a beginner at something I am very familiar with mentally, but my body is not. It’s also been extremely fulfilling – I was able to do more than I anticipated in that first day and even when I was scared, I pushed through. I felt incredibly proud of myself and I’m excited to embark on day 2 in a few hours.
As adults we often feel the pressure to be the experts in the room, most often at work or as parents. Some of you might explore hobbies like music or dance lessons where you are allowed to make mistakes, ask questions and fail over and over again without consequence. That is such a gift!
When I speak to our readers and other attendees at food and agriculture-centric events, I often hear similar wistful woes about not knowing how to cook, or to preserve foods, or not having confidence in growing a garden.
So, dear Reader, this Winter I hope you try something new. It doesn’t have to be as scary or physically dangerous as skiing, but it may leave you feeling unsure, anxious or worried. Pick up some heirloom seeds at a local seed swap and start some herbs or veggies for your garden. Pick up a cookbook at Binding Agents and experiment with a new recipe each week. Or try our recipe for Pasta e Fagioli (pg. 9) as a first step. Sign up for the Potluck app and cook for some strangers.
And if you’re scared, do it scared. I promise you won’t regret it.
Jen Honovic Herczeg
Publisher, Edible Philly