Dahn'a Strip An'at

If someone asks you, as you leave work at lunchtime, "Where yins goan?" you might reply in yunzer(chronic Pittsburgh), "Dahn'a strip an'at." Actually, the question was asked and answered more or less in standard English. There is just something about going down to the Strip District at lunchtime, to do some shopping, that makes me feel proud of this town from whence I, like..., y'know, sprung, an'at.

In addition to being the home of some dynamite handmade signage, this wonderful food district evolved from the long time produce and grocery supply yards into a place where ordinary people can shop for produce, fish, meat and all sorts of ethnic groceries, at reasonable prices, in a charming and resolutely unhip atmosphere.

Even the existence of "The Strip Show," a PBS documentary on the area, has not ruined it. The newer shops and restaurants tend to be either welcome additions (Lidia's),branches of cherished Pittsburgh institutions (Pamela's Diner), or the kind of junk food joints that lack yuppie draw. Granted there are some unlovely evening spots, but they do not interfere with the pleasures of lunchtime shopping, or the crowded Saturday mornings, complete with accordians, vietnamese street food, and counterfeit Steeler paraphenalia.

You can absolutely find what you want; this is where I buy my baccala to make for Christmas.
Last year I was I a long holiday line at Wholey's Fish, with my basket of baccala, when the two elderly men in front of me, who had been chatting in Italian, turned around, to check out my purchases.

"Do you know how to fix that?" they asked.

When I shyly said, "Well , er, yes, pretty much," I received what may be my all time favorite stranger compliment, "And so young...she is a goddess." (Keep in mind that I am indisputably middle-aged.)

I always show off the strip to out of town guests-even non-foodies adore it. Many, including guests from London, Ireland, Spain, Wales and Portugal have gasped at the incredible wall of olive oils on offer at the Pennsylvania Macaroni Company, saying they have not seen such a selection anywhere. The beautiful homemade sausages and pancettas of the Parma Sausage Company
are unequaled. There is a mexican market, Stambouli's with zillions of feta choices and yogurts, a middle-eastern market, and several pan-asian supermarkets.

I have learned any number of useful things from fellow shoppers. While we were standing in line with our bargain flats of mangos one summer, a beautiful lady in a sari explained how I could cut my mangos more tidily, to waste less of the yummy fruit. She also reassured me that my assumption that the cook gets to eat whatever sticks to the big hairy seed, was indeed correct.

Whenever I ride with the Port Authority to the Strip and back at lunchtime (which cuts the trip to five minutes-it is not a long walk at all), the bus is full of Asian people, African-americans, Hispanic people, and various anglos, in all modes of dress, clutching shopping bags full of goodies.

This is my little stash of the day, gloated over on my desk at work. I got all these limes for $1.50, the red pepper at $1.15 per pound, dried chestnuts at $1.99, all these (nearly a pound of them) dried mushrooms for $5.57, Labil's yogurt, capers in salt, multiple anchovies in a cute little resealable jar, and a whole load of dried favas(which I love, though they are a real pain to soak and skin). I forgot the pancetta, but I still feel pretty lucky.

Comments

[Bakerina]

It is my belief that the Strip is the nexus of the universe. There are few places I love better, and, truthfully, I can't think of where they are right now.

One of my favorite things about the Strip is that all of this wonderful stuff is within walking distance of each other. In New York, if you want to buy lime leaves, kefalotyri cheese, African bird peppers and yogurt soda, you have to be willing to hop on and off the subway a lot, which is great if you're planning your entire day around food market crawling, but not so much if you're pressed for time. In the Strip, you can get all of this stuff on two blocks. And I've also found stuff in the Strip that I couldn't find in New York, like curried gluten. (It's a long story; the curried-gluten phase of my life is long past, but once upon a time there was a curried-gluten phase, and I used to stock up on my trips to Pittsburgh.)

Incidentally, I don't know if it's totally naff to admit this, but I *love* those Rick Sebak documentaries. :)

[lindy]

Actually, I love curried gluten, believe it or not. Strange.
And I also am fond of the Sebak series- I think Strip Show is a particularly good one.

[Heath]

What is the secret to cutting mangoes more tidily? I always waste so much!

[lindy]

Heath- I think there may be a new answer to this question. I understand that Oxo is going to be (or perhaps recently has) come out with a special mango cutting tool, which is supposed to work very well.
I previously was the recipient of the following good advice: As the seed is horizontal and slim, it is best to make 4 original cuts. The first two are longitudinal, as close to either side of the pit as you can get. Then you cut off the top and bottom, and set the seed aside.
Next, you score the cut pieces into squares, all the way down to the skin. If the mango is quite ripe, you can press on the outside of the skin to invert the long halves, making it easy to slice your little squares off. In any event, you then slice off the little squares. There will be some nice mango clinging to the pit. The cook gets to slurp this up, alone in the kitchen.
I hope this description makes sense to you- I am somewhat spatial-relations impaired.

I am considering getting one of the Oxo gizmos.