SUN SONG 09: Coffee Day
West Philadelphia, Spruce Hill Bird Sanctuary, and the best cheesesteak.
May 23rd, 2022
Philadelphia, PA
16.90 miles
I didn’t expect to pay 13 dollars for a coffee today, but wow was it worth it.
If you walk up 9th Street in Chinatown, you’ll stumble into Ray’s Cafe and Teahouse. Open the door and you’ll be greeted by Grace, the owner, who has been in business since 1989. She wears an apron and a pink colored shirt that almost matches the bar counter and walls. The space is overflowing with coffee and tea related paraphernalia, most notably two huge cold brew drip towers, which bookended a collection of siphon coffee makers sitting behind the bar. Here, coffee is produced by the cup and very slowly.
I’m no stranger to good coffee, yet I still choose to buy cheap beans or sip on bodega coffee (better described as coffee tea). I’ll take Dunkin Donuts any day, and if I have to, I’ll drink the worst of the worst. I’m talking about the kind of stuff sitting for hours at gas stations across America with the flavor profile of jet fuel. I do not discriminate. Nonetheless, I appreciate a good cup.
There were no available seats, save for a couple tables piled with dishes from previous lunch-hour customers, but Grace rushed to clear a table anyway. I found it charming, as she clearly was too busy to do everything at once. This isn’t your run-of-the-mill hipster coffee shop you can find in any big American city. I’d be surprised if the decor has changed since Grace opened up shop.
Sitting, I ordered Japanese sumiyaki coffee, a type of bean roasted with charcoal instead of conventional methods like hot air or direct contact. I came for the coffee, but was curious about the food, ordering egg drop wonton soup, and dumplings. I planned to walk all the way to West Philadelphia today, but could have easily sat at this table and watched Grace produce siphon coffee all day.
After a short wait, she prepared the table with a placemat and presented my coffee, which came on a small tray and was served with simple syrup, a tiny ceramic pitcher of cream, and a homemade cookie resting on a doily. I took so many pictures – way too many pictures – making me feel like a teenage Instagram influencer, but the presentation was opulent.
Before I could take a sip, Grace brought out a big bowl of soup and an assortment of dumplings, carefully describing each one before allowing me to eat. Sensing my bewilderment, she pointed to a newspaper clipping tacked on the wall as if to further establish her credibility, but that wasn’t in order. I was already charmed. Everything was good! I’d highly recommend this gem.
I asked Grace for a photo, which she proudly obliged. I tried to explain I was walking 10 cities over 30 days, but it didn’t seem to register. She handed me a bag of homemade cookies instead and I was off, incredibly full, walking again.
I have a certain penchant for walking around department stores. There’s something about the production of it all, not to mention a place where people congregate. Philly was no exception, but trust me, there was a good reason.
Downtown, inside the former Wanamaker department store across from city hall, lies the Wanamaker Grand Court Organ, the oldest operating pipe organ in the world. It was originally built in 1904 for the St. Louis World’s Fair, but eventually made its way to Philadelphia after being purchased by John Wanamaker in 1909 for his store – which was one of the first department stores to use electricity and fixed prices. Legend has it that it took thirteen train cars to move the organ to its new home and two years to install.
Wanamaker’s is now a Macy’s, which seems to be consuming all department stores across America these days. Inside, the organ is not difficult to find, although I still asked a store employee where it was. Cheerfully, I was directed to the center of the building and across from women’s clothing, jewelry, and pressed slacks, was an epic view of the organ from the second story. I was fortunate to be there to hear it play, although it was short lived.
Later, just outside of U Penn, I stopped at Avril 50, a magazine store recommended by a friend. The shop is akin to your classic New York City magazine newsstand, floor to wall with niche periodicals and rags from all over the world, but with a European flair. Cigars, cigarettes, chocolate and teas are available for purchase. A whole fleet of coffee pots line the register counter. The place smells of hazelnut and Classical music plays from the speakers. Immaculate handwritten notes are placed around the store with messages such as, No trying the pipes, please! and CASH ONLY.
The man behind the counter, who is the owner, operates an espresso machine. By no means did I need any more coffee, but ordered a macchiato anyways. I was met with a stern grunt.
ONE or TWO shots?
I asked for one, and explained I was walking cities all over the East Coast, but he was thoroughly unimpressed, perhaps jaded.
Ok? So, enjoy—
I asked to take his photo, which set him off even further.
Go ahead, take it! I don’t know who you are!
He was so annoyed with me, but his actions spoke otherwise. He posed beside the espresso machine, even letting out the slightest smile. It’s as if he actually wanted me to take his photo and this was all just a game. The whole interaction put a sour taste in my mouth, but I took his photo anyway.
Despite the bad attitude, the macchiato was great.
Have a good day.
Yeah, OK.
I’m in West Philadelphia now, just outside of University City. The area is unlike any other part of the city I’ve walked during my stay. It is far more residential than South Philadelphia. Trees line most blocks, which means there’s an abundance of shade. Historically, I’m assuming this area was built for the upper middle class or the wealthy. Queen Anne style rowhouses line the streets and the neighborhood is serviced by five of the city’s six trolley lines which quietly appear out of nowhere. It’s a shame more cities don’t have street cars.
I followed Spruce Street in search of the Spruce Hill Bird Sanctuary, which is tucked away in a small courtyard behind a row of houses. You wouldn’t know it existed if you didn’t know what you were looking for. There is no signage indicating the entrance. I’d found the GPS coordinates online that led me through a narrow alley beside a home and garage. I was unsure if I was heading the right way. The windows of the home beside me were open, and I could have spoken to the occupants inside if I wanted, making me feel like I was trespassing. All worries were cast aside when I finally found the sign indicating I had arrived. Two women sat on a bench conversing. I made it.
The sanctuary is basically someone’s backyard with an abundance of bird feeders. A designated wildlife area, it attracts birds like mourning doves, starlings, juncos, cardinals, goldfinches, gray catbirds, purple finches, and the occasional squirrel looking for a free lunch.
I ended the day at Ishkabibbles – as it was very close to my Airbnb – for a much needed Philly cheesesteak. Two people, whose opinion I dearly trust, had recommended the place. I’d given up hope of finding the best the city has to offer because I’ve found nobody can give just one answer. It’s no use asking around because you’ll end up with a laundry list of options. People are very passionate about their cheesesteaks here, and it seems no matter where you go, there’s always someplace better. You could really spend three nights here just eating cheesesteaks. And don’t get anyone started on roast beef sandwiches! That’ll open up another can of worms.
Cheesesteak devoured, I was ready for bed, but not until writing this newsletter! I saved it for this morning, while on the train to Baltimore. Energy was low, and my cognitive ability nonexistent. After walking 40+ miles here in Philadelphia, I can feel the journey catching up with me. I should probably take a day off soon. There’s plenty of rain on the way, maybe soon.
Can’t wait to walk Baltimore. I’ve never been here except for passing through on the train. I’ll report back tomorrow, fully rested.
Till then,
–Alex
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