In West Philadelphia Born & Raised

Lets kick this week off right, with a blog post!

So, did I mention I went to a big marketing conference in Philadelphia a few weeks back? Of course I didn’t, because I suck at blogging lately. The conference was great, I learned a TON, but the networking dinners were where it was AT. Think swanky penthouse overlooking the city (Exhibit A above), and then an event where I thought I had died and gone to heaven. It was called “Taste of Philadelphia” at the Reading Terminal Market, a giant indoor market in center city, the entire place was open only to conference goers.

All the food vendors were handing out samples, each thing better than the last, and I think I shed a tear somewhere between my chicken cheesesteak and my DiNic’s famous italian roast pork sandwich with sharp provolone. Don’t even get me started on the pumpkin ice cream or ginger molasses cookie.
After I gained 10 pounds the conference wrapped up, I decided to go on a little “Tour de Family” to visit my grandparents, cousins and aunt who live outside of Philly (shout out to Jackie and Julia for an awesome Friday wine night!). I also did a little creeping past the house I was born in. While I have a hard time deciphering what real memories I have from this house versus what memories I’ve created from old photos and videos, seeing the house made me feel quite nostalgic. I think it’s because now that I’m seeing my friends welcome babies into this world and how special it is to bring those babies home, I realized this is the house my parents brought all three of their babies home to and what a special and sacred thing that is. I had an urge to go knock on the door and just say, “Do you realize the memories that were made in this house?” But then I remembered I’m a solo traveling female in a strange neighborhood I really know nothing about, so I did the smart thing and decided to just keep on driving.

3 thoughts on “In West Philadelphia Born & Raised

  1. Love your Taste of Philly blog and trip down memory lane. The Reading Terminal was around the corner from your Great Grandpop Biagio and Great Grandmom Stamaura’s Italian Restaurant, the Turin Grotto which was at 13 North 13th Street. Occasionally the Grotto would run out of a certain food, and I would sent as the runner over to the Reading Terminal to shop. It’s the coolest place.

    Thanks for posting the picture of 288 Green Avenue. The house held up well and looks just like it did in 1976. The maple tree in the front is a lot bigger, but there is nothing like a brick house. It really holds up well. And yes, it is a special place, and I still remember the day I brought my Baby Girl home from the Hospital, and can still see you sleeping in your little basinette in the dining room. You had a pretty peach colored room upstairs with your little crib and your balloon bumper.

    Oh well, I think I rambled long enough. Keep blogging.
    I love ya,

    • Why did you stash me in the dining room??? I love your memories of our old house, Philly and especially the Terminal Market which is hands down my favorite part of the city. I need to get one of those old Turin Grotto menus.Christmas gift???

      • I stashed you in the dining room only for naps so I could keep an eye on you and your two year old brother. I love you baby girl. Xxxoooxx

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