Watch the butter throne.

It’s probably literally the worst day of the year to tell you about this — as one bite of this stuff could pretty much wreck every new year’s resolution diet plan you may have had — but look on the bright side: After all of that PSU unpleasantness, Heartland PA could use a little boost right about now. And Chef Andrew Little (pictured) of Hanover, PA’s Sheppard Mansion seems poised to give it, both in food world buzz, and in raw, goopy cholesterol. Little just had a big year in 2011, riding the crest of two waves simultaneously: The continuation of the locavore movement, as well as his update on the often-ignored PA Dutch cuisine. For most of us, the very phrase “PA Dutch” conjures things like grotesque smorgasbords and butter headaches (like the “meat sweats,” they’re real and they happen), but for Little, it’s been an opportunity to update what eating local in Pennsyltucky can be. Here’s some highlights from a current Little menu at the Sheppard Mansion:

Scrapple
Frisee, Mushrooms, Almond Maple Vinaigrette

‘Schnitz Und Knepp’
Rabbit, Gnocchi, Country Ham, Apple Cider

Venison
Root Vegetables, Butternut Squash Puree, Bacon

Mary Dingle’s Pheasant
Garden Cabbage, Parsnip Puree, Local Mushrooms

Scrapple with frisee, mushrooms, and almond maple vinaigrette? Why, we don’t know whether to kiss this man or punch him in the face. In any event, Little’s New PA Dutch cuisine hasn’t gone unnoticed. He’s riding high currently, having been featured on Eater, CNN’s Eatocracy, and Time. If anybody could steal the butter throne from Paula Deen, it could be Little: He’s down-home, for sure, but inventive in a way all the mac and cheese in the world couldn’t make up for.

Sheppard Mansion, 117 Frederick St., Hanover, PA 17331.

The General Lafayette Inn & Brewery closed at the end of September. An inn that once paid tribute to the man who led America’s freedom fighters out of Barren Hill, upon encroachment of the British, now lies empty, with a sad, snow-covered parking lot. A pending sale, that had been ongoing for almost a year, fell through. Now, the beautiful inn remains closed, complete with wonky orange for sale sign. Meanwhile, a new company, Copper Crow Beer, formed by General Lafayette assistant brewer Russ Czajka as president and majority owner and Chris Leonard as brewmaster, has been stirring in the cellar since its close. They will remain brewing at both the current site and at the new Prism Brewery in North Wales. Russ and Chris have been looking for someone to take over the restaurant portion of the business for a while now, so that they could concentrate on the beer. So it’s a good thing for them.

Copper Crow beer, if you haven’t had it is really, really good, and they’ve got some perfect brews out right now for the winter. If you ever see or hear of their Raspberry Meade Ale (and we’re not even that keen on berry beers) you must try it! From what we understand you can find Copper Crow at the following establishments:

Bella Vista Beverage
Devil’s Den
P.O.P.E.
London Grill
Standard Tap
Society Hill Hotel
Bar Ferdinand
Village Whiskey
Tinto
Hawthorne’s Cafe
1601 – where we just heard they are serving up $2 pints of Copper Crow’s Winter Hop Ale all night long. Go grab a few for the game!

The caffeine and sugar levels are so high that even going a day or two without the Tea can cause withdrawal symptoms such as severe headaches, nausea and dizziness. As a child, I wasn’t allowed to go near the stuff because of all the true-life tales about The Tea. For example, my step-brother was drinking close to gallon a day before he decided to quit. Not only is the The Tea bad for you, but tastes so sugary and sweet that you crave it. His tea addiction mirrored a cigarette addiction and he knew that if he didn’t stop drinking The Tea he was going to get kidney stones, which happened a lot. There were always a handful of guys you knew who had gotten kidney stones from drinking so much Turkey Hill Iced Tea. And if the internal effects were not bad enough, The Tea certainly didn’t do much for your appearance. Weight gain was a given, as well as cavities and brown teeth to go along with it. My step-mom would always pick up a gallon on her way home from work, and drank glass after glass of the stuff, which lead to her having a few fillings and going through professional teeth whitening. It wasn’t until she moved out of the state, where they no longer sold Turkey Hill, did she kick the habit. First time drinkers usually get jittery and jazzed, similar to taking a couple shots of espresso. So, moral of the story: Beware The Tea.

Saturday morning, the phone rang. The voice on the other end said, “Get dressed. We’re going to Big John’s in Cherry Hill for cheesesteaks.” “But why?,” we asked. “Don’t ask so many questions,” the voice said. “They have a pickle bar.”
And so they do. Pickle bar pictures, and some explaining, after the jump.

Collin Flatt spends an evening in the kitchen of the hottest restaurant in America. He finds a family as honest and fresh as the food they prepare. Lots of pics and words after the jump.

For over a year now, the hardest table to snag in the U.S. has offered a kitchen table for folks dying to bask in the farmy goodness without the year-long wait. When I arrived, Aimee Olexy was feverishly scribbling prices on Talula’s Table labels using her left hand while the foodcrew worked around her. They do this every night. Robert updated the whiteboard with tasks and deliveries in between plating food, also with his left hand. I’m sensing a pattern. They say less than 10% of the population is left-handed. They also say those folks are more creative. Quite odd that a staff of 6 has already 2 in my midst, the others never needing a writing implement throughout the night. I’ll bet there’s at least one other.

Enough has been written about the astounding quality of food at the now famous farmtable, most recently by friend and colleague David Snyder at City Paper. That story has been done. What I found in the people working that kitchen was a tight-knit group that loved making people happy. They’re serving the position admirably.

This was my second trip to Bryan Sikora’s freshfeastexperience, but this time a more intimate and open experience unfolded before me. I was plopped down on a chair in front of the butcher’s block during the plating of the first course, a Red Snapper Crudo floating in watermelon gelee that was as playful a dish as I have seen. It giggled at me with big blue eyes, served by a tow-headed dollface named Abby. She’s a farmer by trade, and looks the part. Her blonde hair pulled back into a bun, but not tightly kept. Gold flyaways surrounded her head creating angelic appearance. Found the job on Craigslist, making ends meet while she figures out the next step. She used to work for Safefood creating nutritional plans for low-income families. Good on you, sweetheart. You don’t need to sneak in the back door to meet her, she works in the market during the day. She was happy that I recognized and loved the Cashel Blue on my cheese plate. A little clap and bright smile confirmed her approval. As she disappeared back into the dining room, the cheese plate seemed to miss her. Me too.

Little Dave deftly chopped up veggies and garnish on the block only inches away, informing me of his recent graduation from high school. He did an internship at the Culinary Institute and got hooked up with this job for the summer. He was involved in every dish that night, helping out the cooks along every step. Not a gopher, not making copies. His future is bright and he doesn’t even know it yet. He plated with a delicate touch inspired by his surroundings. I’m jealous of whatever he does next.

Southpaw Robert was a multi-tasker, coolest cucumber there. Also finding this job on Craigslist, he ran his own Chef’s Table prior to Lady Talula, and learned his trade at Deep Blue in Wilmington. He was watching too much ‘Deadliest Catch’, and told his wife he wanted to start cooking again. She agreed, so did Aimee and Bryan. ‘I couldn’t have asked for a better place to be’, he relays. ‘Look around here. Have you ever seen a kitchen like this?’. He’s right. There’s no territoriality. Servers are allowed to help with presentation. Cooks run food if the servers are clearing, and recite the presentation for the guests. If you’ve ever worked the back of the house, this is anomaly defined.

Paul manned the pots and pans, cooking up buttery Lobster, Alaskan Sable, and Barbecued Squab. Never took one cooking class his whole life. Taught by his own flesh and blood, working in Momma Paul’s kitchen. He quit his Graphic Design job in February, now he’s at the most important culinary destination in America. ’The design industry…I hated all the revisions. Then more revisions. Then more revisions.’ Plate it. Serve it. Eat it. ‘I make people happy here’.  Once I tasted the natural lobster emulsion and fennel jam, I became one of his successes.

Sarah was the last server to stroll by my butcherblockhome, delivering  handmade Beef Tortellini in Paste Tomato sauce with friend eggplant. The dirtiness of the sauce Beach Boys harmonized with my American Chateauneuf Du Pape and reminded me why I was at Talula’s in the first place. Good food. I was quickly snapped out of my daze when she mentioned I looked familiar. She served me the last time I was here with a bunch of rowdy food writers. A barista extraordinaire by trade, she brought me a stunning cup of Italian coffee. She’s opening a vintage store close by and will continue on 2 days a week. I trust everything she tells me, I’d buy a new wardrobe if she asked me to. She’s going to do well over there.

Big Boss wasn’t in the house tonight, and that speaks volumes about the quality of his staff. He trusts these folks to keep his foodmachine running and the legend growing. They do not disappoint. Sure, Momma Bear is there to get things started, flashing a pretty smile and inviting warmth to her guests, but never to interfere with the kitchen. She drinks her Sly Fox beer from a wine glass. We discuss a coffee presentation in a stemless Burgundy chalice. It’s a good idea. ‘Everything tastes better in glass’. So right, so goddamn right.

I felt blessed and lucky enough to know the proprietors that allowed me into their kitchen for the experience of eating with them again. What I didn’t expect, and what will walk with me now when someone mentions Talula’s is the great people behind the name. They love their work, we love their work. Meet them at Headhouse Square at the Farmer’s Market, or stop by the shop in Kennett Square. Either way you’ll be supporting honest people making honest food, which just might be harder to come by than a reservation at the table.

–Collin Flatt

If you want to see the white person in the wild, in its true native environment, you can do no better than to roll in to The Newtown Grill on a Saturday night. We popped in to an utterly packed house on a recent weekend, and within moments, we felt like the editors of Stuff White People Like, who’d somehow unearthed The Ark Of The Convenant Of Ancient Whiteness: We saw a genuine case of Polo Rage, the men looked like Ted Kennedy, the women wore a lot of fur — seriously, fur! in 2008! no sense of irony! — and the staff all pool their tips.

(At least, this was the best we could surmise when our waiter seemed to grow bored of us and was thankfully replaced by a waitress who, in the 11th hour, cared.)
But The Newtown Grill is worth noting for a few reasons, some culinary but many more sociological: Formerly Alberto’s Authentic Italian Cuisine & Steakhouse, the Newtown became the Newtown only back in November, after the existing management performed a makeover that’s still going on. When we visited, the once prim and proper historic Mendenhall Farm House (built in 1796) was busy being surrounded by still more additions around the circumference of the Mendenhall’s original stone skeleton. And the Newtown’s sprawl reminded us of nothing so much as the ongoing sprawl of the Main Line itself; where once the Main Line was simply the towns along the R5, the concept now seems to be more of a social construct than it ever was. Now that we’ve effectively run out of Main Line for new money’d folks, the Main Line itself is playing with the notion of transcending geography and becoming something more like what it always was to those peering in from the outside: A brand.
None of this tells you anything about the food, though: It’s good. Very good. While a lot of the Alberto’s Italian staples seem to still be available, the Newtown re-christening naturally directs diners to the steak. We had the Blackened Sliced New York Strip, and we have to say: It was great. But to be perfectly frank, the bar menu seemed a lot more exciting to us. The “Vintage Slicer” offers some of the nicest cured and imported meats and artisanal cheeses this side of 9th Street, and there’s a nice, adventurous selection of bruschettes — Prosciutto, Pear, Pecorino and Rosemary Honey, for instance. Whereas the bulk of the Newtown menu seemed weighed down Serious Fare, the bar seemed more fun — and definitely where the most Kennedy-on-mink action was. Will we be back? Of course: Our ongoing anthropological studies demand it.
ItalianSteakhouse.com: The Newtown Grill