HAPPY HARRY'S...THE BEST PLACE I EVER ATE IN, IN PHILLY'S CHINATOWN

I have only eaten in Philadelphia's Chinatown once...sort of.

Maybe I'm just being partisan but I never developed an interest in Philly's Chinatown. I guess it doesn't compare to New York's because I have a history with our Chinatown that dates back to my late teens. That's when C-Town was one of my clique's high-priority road trip destinations.

When you're a punk kid the way I was, investigating the implied danger of Chinatown's dark alleys and back rooms was cool. This coming of age process included the cultural shock of dealing with weird vermin (both human and animal), in the streets. In the end, the Wo Hop restaurant (17 Mott Street, downstairs), became our singular "go-to" spot.

I ONCE OVERHEARD A FELLOW WO HOP CUSTOMER BRAG WHILE SIPPING A YOO-HOO, "THE FOOD HERE IS MORE AUTHENTIC THAN ANYTHING YOU CAN GET IN CHINA."

Wo Hop's continuing allure was proven to me by the quality and quantity of comments made in my previous Chinatown blogs. That means that, "MORE GLIB ThAN PROFOUND," readers, despite drifting to every corner of our country and beyond, still hold the humble eatery close to their hearts. That bond is so strong that some out-of-towners, such as myself, make a point to make a pilgrimage back to the Mecca of Chinese food, every few years.I SHOT THIS WO HOP "WON TON" FACTORY PICTURE IN 1977. ONE OF THESE DAYS, I'LL MAKE A HARD COPY AND GIVE IT TO MANAGEMENT. EVEN IF THESE WAITERS AREN'T STILL WORKING THERE, I'M SURE SOMEONE REMEMBERS THESE GENTS. WHO KNOWS, MAYBE THEY'LL HANG IT ON THE WALL...AND "COMP" ME A BOWL OF 50c SOUP NOODLES.

Philadelphia's Chinatown does not have a definitive go-to restaurant. I have now lived an hour from the action, (in South Jersey), for twenty-seven years. The overwhelming majority of my friends, neighbors, co-workers and clientele here are from the greater Philly area. So, I find it interesting that none of them ritually go there.

Their lack of enthusiasm was made clear in 1991. My wife Sue and I decided to include dinner in Chinatown during a planned visit to Philadelphia. When I scoured my connections for recommendations, I found it strange that my Philly peeps didn't have a universal a favorite.

At that time, I was only at my current job for a short time. It was shocking that with so many co-workers being former residents of the city of brotherly love, no one could help me. The one decent suggestion I got directed me to an Asian supervisor named Foo.

Foo and I were strangers because we had never worked directly together. So when I approached this quiet, anemic-looking man, I had no idea what to expect. He was about five years older than me but up close, he looked much older. I could see his unhealthy, frail body and wan complexion made him look like Dracula jonesing to take a bite out of a jugular. The situation became awkward when I noticed that his name tag was spelled P-H-U-C. When he saw me hesitating during my introduction he said, "Just call me Foo."

Through broken English, he was receptive to helping me. On the back of his business card, he scribbled a detailed map. Unfortunately, I soon realized that I inadvertently stumbled onto a code for something different from directions to a restaurant.

FOO CONCENTRATED ON RACE STREET BETWEEN 9th AND 10th STREET.

When the map was finished he looked me in the eye and said, "You want *f***y, f***y or drugs?" *(Please note, his exact quote was adding a "y" to the end of the "f" word...twice). I was in shock and said, "Neither. I want to take my wife to dinner." Angrily he said, "Food? You just want f*****g food. It no matter where you eat!" I was disturbed by this verbal exchange and lost my urge to eat there for a long time.

Three years later, my son Andrew was born. When he was four, we started a series of father-son day trips to Philadelphia. We specialized in museums, most notably; the Franklin Institute, The Academy of Natural Sciences and the Philadelphia Museum of Art.

WHEN ANDREW WAS NINE, I SHOT A CUTE VIDEO OF HIM RUNNING UP THE ART MUSEUM'S "ROCKY" STEPS AS I HUMMED THE THEME MUSIC.

In 2001, we capped our visit to the Academy of Natural Sciences, (highlighted by their live butterfly room), by visiting the Independence Mall. I figured, as long as we were in the neighborhood, I can finally eat in Chinatown after we checked-out the Liberty Bell and Independence Hall. To Andrew's delight, my dream was dashed...from the comfort of a shaded park bench, by the lure of a unique dining experience...fast-food served from trucks and street vendors.

By 2003, the concept of eating in Philly's Chinatown was fading fast. We did all the museums, the zoo twice and visited South Street too. I mentioned my dilemma to KURUDAVE and he claimed that the Mutter Museum was a must.

AN UMLAUT ( A "U" WITH DOTS ON TOP) IS INCLUDED IN THE PROPER SPELLING OF MUTTER. IF ANY OF YOU ARE GERMAN GRAMMAR EXPERTS, YOU CAN HELP ME WITH THE CORRECT PRONUNCIATION.

KURUDAVE added that the Mutter might not be suitable for those with weak stomachs...especially nine-year olds. To whet my appetite, he rattled off some of the bizarre exhibits like; medical oddities, anatomical and pathological specimens, wax models and antique medical equipment.

ESTABLISHED IN 1858, THE MUTTER IS NOW PART OF THE PHILADELPHIA PHYSICIANS COLLEGE. http://www.muttermuseum.com/ IT'S LOCATED IN CENTER CITY AT 19 SOUTH 22nd STREET, NEAR THE OTHER MUSEUMS I CITED ABOVE.

I mentioned the idea of this trip to Andrew and he said, "Okay. But only if I can bring a friend." After the particulars of the outing were ironed-out with TEAROOF, his friend's mom, I had the go ahead.

Both boys were bright and mature for their age. So seeing a collection of skulls, the intestines of the "Human Balloon" and the remains of the "Soap Lady," didn't adversely affect the two youths. To my surprise they also handled seeing the malignant tumor from President Grover Cleveland's palate, tissue from John Wilkes Booth's thorax and a section of Charles J. Guiteau's brain, (President James Garfield's assassin). After ninety minutes, we were close to seeing everything. That's when we entered a long hall that featured the skeleton of Chang and Eng, the original Siamese twins. This display also included tons of present days photos of conjoined twins. It was at that point that Andrew was selected to inform me that he and his buddy had seen enough. He tip-toed around the fact that they were freaked-out by the conjoined twins and concentrated his argument on being bored and hungry. He closed his statement with this quote, "Is it okay if we go now?"

We bought a couple of Mutter souvenirs at the gift shop before leaving. On the way to my car, I had the Siamese twins' skeleton on my mind so I suggested lunch in Chinatown. Both boys agreed. The short drive was punctuated by a prolonged battle for a parking space. It was a beautiful day so the eventual ten block walk was no big deal. When we reached our journey's end, we found several restaurants on every street. We were wandering around when the boys sensed that I still didn't have a clue where to go. That when they pressed their nose against the window of a crumby cheese steak joint.

WITH THE BEN FRANKLIN BRIDGE IN THE BACKGROUND, SOMEWHERE HIDDEN IN THIS SEA OF ORIENTAL RESTAURANTS AND SPECIALTY SHOPS, IS HAPPY HARRY'S HOAGIE HOUSE, (THESE DAYS, WE KIDDINGLY REFER TO IT AS, "HAPPY HARRY'S HORIZONTAL HAMBURGER HUT."

Andrew and his friend ordered meatball subs and French fries. I was tempted to run next door for some traditional Szechuan cuisine but I settled for acutely bad pizza. So that makes Happy Harry's, the best restaurant I have ever eaten in, in Philly's Chinatown...sort of.