Small Bites
Little Vittles
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Wendy's wants it both ways. First, they unveil their decidedly non-fast-foodish Frescata deli sandwiches, served on allegedly fresh-baked "artisan" rolls. The turkey one comes with pesto spread. Pesto. At Wendy's, "Frescata" must be Italian for "Operation Compete With Panera Bread." This theory is bolstered by the chain's new series of "smart, nontraditional" Zach Braff-narrated concept ads about individuality and humanity's need for nonfrozen meat. Smart, nontraditional concept ads, of course, target people too smart and nontraditional for boring old fast food, right? But Wendy's newest sandwich, the Baconator (the very name squeezes the arteries), is neither smart nor remotely "different." It's a stupid, frightening overextension of the basic fast food model of beef patty, cheese slice and bacon strip. This time around, it's beef patty, cheese slice, beef patty, cheese slice, bacon strip, bacon strip, bacon strip, bacon strip, bacon strip, bacon strip, melted cheese sauce. Plus mayonnaise and stuff if you want/dare. Even sans fixins, the Baconator rings in at 830 calories, 460 from fat. That's why I wasn't surprised when my mouth reflexively recoiled at first contact with the greasy, meat-soaked bottom bun and tottering, bacon-shelled top. I bit down anyway, and the first mouthful was actually kinda good (in that disgustingly rich, greasy way). But the second bite knocked me out. Beef trudged slowly down my throat. Shards of bacon lodged between my teeth. Cheese sauce dripped from my upper lip. I wanted to lie down. I wanted ... a Frescata. —Peter Baker
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If you require a steamy cup of tea to jumpstart your afternoon, Signals offers a charming tabletop penguin capable of crafting a perfectly steeped solo slurp. A critter that's just as adorable as the fierce tap dancers in Happy Feet, this handy apparatus is designed to hold the bag's string in its beak and steep the tea evenly according to your ideal brew time (it includes a timing feature that ranges from one to 20 minutes). Oh yeah, and we can't forget to mention: This dapper-dressed black-and-white brewmaster also sports a mean top hat. Available at www.signals.com. —Amy Strauss
Queen Village's brand-new Coquette Bistro & Raw Bar (700 S. Fifth St.) has been getting its fair share of curious inquiry, and not just because of the food: Its phone number is listed, rather cryptically, as "215 CEdar 8-9000." Is it some sort of VIP code, allowing only those in the know to book a table? Not so: Back in the early days of the telephone, heavily populated communities with many phone numbers had exchange names. Entering the first two letters of that name, plus five more digits, connected you with the person you were trying to reach. ("Cedar" was an old Philly exchange.) Owner Cary Neff says the old-style digits fit in with the '30s and '40s vibe his bistro strives for. And though he stresses that Coquette is not a "theme" restaurant, he does think those types of places tend to be the most comfortable. Plus, it gives him good reason to put classics like Coquilles St. Jacques on the menu. Break out your rotary phone and dial away (hint: 215-238-9000). —Jeremy Baron
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Corn on the cob is supposed to be a slippery, greasy good time. Talisman Designs' Butter Girl makes the messy veggie a little easier to handle without sacrificing any of the fun. The plastic figurine —complete with a cheek-to-cheek grin and a sweet hair ribbon — stores and applies butter. Just remove the plunger and put a standard half-stick in her, um, bottom. When it's time for dinner, snap off her head and glide the chick across warm corn. Not only is she cute and pink, she's also dishwasher-safe. A Butter Boy is also available — in very masculine blue and green varieties. Available at Foster's Homeware (399 Market St., 215-925-0950, www.shopfosters.com). —Monica Weymouth
Also In This Week's Food Section
South Beach on South Street
Strained Brew
Feeding Frenzy
You Ask We Answer
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