I arrived for the Pooh Bear, the most irresistibly named new hoagie at one of the city’s buzziest new sandwich shops. But I still left Dolores’ 2Road with a flavor of South Philly heritage, prime candidates for the very best new steak and pork sandwiches in city, and the tale of a cafe spouse and children reveling in its comeback.
Who remembers Felicia’s? I do. I can nonetheless flavor the chic ricotta gnocchi, veal-stuffed roast peppers and sage-kissed saltimbocca rolls I ate there in 2001, when Nick and Maria Miglino’s upscale restaurant at 11th and Ellsworth Streets was on the vanguard of the post-Pink Gravy era during a two 10 years operate that ended in 2007.
So, it was a enjoyable shock to find out the Miglinos are back again on the scene with a multi-generational sandwich store homage to loved ones at Dolores’ 2Road. It is named for Nick’s late mother, Dolores Miglino, who was the culinary matriarch of this committed Mummers relatives, which can make its locale future to the Fralinger String Band clubhouse the two ideal and fortuitous. Mummers are reliably hoagie hungry.
“They just gave us acquired a hundred hoagie get!” states Nick’s son and partner, Peter Miglino, 36, who dreamed up this store with his girlfriend Victoria Rio, 26, who aids him run the entrance register and cold sandwich station at this storefront, extensive regarded as Colburn’s right before a temporary operate as Shak’s. “I never truly feel like this is function at all,” claims Peter, a longtime bartender at Ladder 15 who’s thrilled to be making this business together with his mom and dad and girlfriend. “It’s all hands-on deck.”
Their hoagies are pretty substantially well worth a mega order, very carefully constructed on seeded Sarcone’s rolls with balance, finesse and creativity. The basic Italian is excellent, but I was charmed by the Pooh Bear, named by Peter for its combo of honey turkey, honey ham and honeyed mayo, but whose mystery is the deep-fried ribbon of pickle that cuts by way of the sweetness with a crispy crackle and tart burst that unifies just about every bite.
A further deep-fried move — a panko-crusted strip of zucchini — is the magic formula crunch weapon in the Henry, a lovely ode to Henry George, whose well known veggie hoagie at prolonged absent Chickie’s (now Antonio’s) set Philly’s meatless hoagie regular. Layered with grilled eggplant, correctly cooked broccoli rabe and roasted peppers, Dolores’ juicy rendition is deserving of the legacy.
And however, it was the sizzling sandwiches that took me by surprise, coming from the back again kitchen area the place you will discover Nick, 67, and Maria, 65, nevertheless the gnocchi genius, cooking all incredibly hot food stuff — and paying tribute to South Philly sandwiches absent by.
Nick is specifically obsessed with his resurrection of the basic pizza steak popularized by Anthony Milano in the 1950s in the South 11th Road area at the moment occupied by Mike’s BBQ.
As opposed to its most of its modern day descendants, the authentic pizza steak did not ladle on rivers of red sauce, Miglino states, but as a substitute cushioned the meat with medallions of grilled plum tomatoes. (At locations with previous-university roots like John’s Roast Pork, this sandwich is really pointed out as a Milano.) At Dolores, in which those people ripe tomatoes are dusted with hand-pinched Sicilian oregano and a few finishing drizzles of added-virgin olive oil, Miglino’s rendition is cooked from total pads of tender, prime-grade L. Halteman’s beef with molten gentle provolone. There are no onions, and it’s a refined attractiveness by brash steak specifications. But it is pure harmony when you just take a chunk, the tomatoes adding to its juicy savor.
“We were being born and elevated on this stuff,” says Nick, “because none of us went to Pat’s and Geno’s. None of us.”
I truly appreciate Dolores’ pizza steak, as properly. But Nick’s other triumph — replicating his mother’s roast pork — is at least as noteworthy. Miglino even tracked down the certain reduce of pork his mom and her good friends utilised to prepare dinner at home. It is named the cushion, a substantial softball-shaped hunk of boneless meat slice from a picnic shoulder, that he gradual-roasts with dried herbs, garlic, wine and cherry peppers in vinegar, which lend a distinctively spicy tang.
But it is the execution that at last brings it household: Nick hand cuts each individual piece a very little thicker than the paper slender sheets usually noticed elsewhere pulled off an electric powered slicer. That may feel like a small matter, but it’s huge. My enamel sank by the crusty roll into that cushion of meat, and my eyes opened as it conveyed equally the elegant tenderness and juicy swagger of this family’s roast pork sandwich legacy in a way I’ve never ever very seasoned. The intensity of gushed by the snappy inexperienced rabe, molten provolone, and the charred spice of roasted extensive warm peppers and soaked into each corner of that crusty roll. Do we have a new roast pork champ? We certainly have a contender!
“Every time I make it, we all glimpse at it and my brother begins conversing about our mom, and it is intriguing and it is unusual,” claims Nick. “I only would like my mother was here to have a chunk.”
Dolores’ 2St., 1841 S. 2nd St., 267-519-3212 on Facebook.