I say "were" because they didn't last long!!
There are no words to describe the taste of a true Philadelphia pretzel fresh from
an oven and still warm in your hands. The taste -- the aroma -- oohhh -- I'm longing for another one! That's how they are -- addictive.
In my former days of Philly living, Vanilla Man and I would buy 5 for $1.00. Now they are 3 for $2.00. We'd buy them from a street vendor selling them on the corner. Some vendors we'd pass by for obvious reasons, others received our business.
But always on the way home from a day of teaching there was the sweetest, cutest, athletically built and tanned little lady selling pretzels at the corner of Front and the Blvd. After a hard day, (or a not so hard day), I'd buy a bag of pretzels. If it was a REALLY bad day I'd stop at B Street and pick up a watermelon water ice. Those were the days.
On the other hand, Vanilla Man branches out and eats his pretzel in a variety of ways. He does not save the knot for last. He eats from the top down. He slathers his with mustard. He does not scrape off the salt. If the pretzel has even a chance to get "home" it is blanketed with a piece of white American cheese, placed in the microwave and heated until the cheese drapes down the sides in a rather droopy fashion. Then, with sighs of contentment, it is consumed one salty bite at a time. In this one area of his life Vanilla Man is not so vanilla.
Let me tell you -- not even Auntie Ann's can top the Philadelphia pretzel.
It has it's own unique texture and flavor.
There's just nothin' like it.
Now about the Philadelphia Cheese Steak -- the only place in these parts that tastes remotely like a true Philly Cheese Steak is found at Penn Station. They come very close but not quite.
That's for another post. We did not get to enjoy one of those while at home so I don't want to talk about them...July is a long way off.