REAPPEAR

REAPPEAR- Chapter 3

At around 3:30 p.m. I drove over to my restaurant and music venue, Platform, located in Old City. Old City was the historic district of Philadelphia encompassing the area from Front Street just west of the Delaware River westward to around 6th Street, north to Vine Street and south to Walnut Street. Old City was home to Independence Hall, The Liberty Bell, The National Constitution Center, Betsy Ross House as well as a variety of dive bars, gastropubs, Belgian taverns, coffee shops, gyms, theaters, restaurants, diners, clubs, galleries and all the publicity, notoriety, and visitors that went along with such destinations.

Platform, plainly named after its mission to provide a platform for great food, bands, artists, and musicians, was one of three restaurants owned and operated by my dad, my friend Johnny Garcia, and I. Platform was a one-of-a-kind culinary and entertainment juggernaut, different from our other restaurants in that it doubled as a music venue. Though we worked together on the preparation and business side of things, my dad ran Gout in New York City while Johnny ran Soup in Atlantic City, New Jersey. Gout started it all, and Johnny and I learned the business while working there with my dad. After three years working together at Gout, we decided to branch out and grow our brand, so we launched Platform in Philadelphia. Since I had lived and worked in Philadelphia, and it had a budding, buzzing food and restaurant scene, it seemed like the next logical step. About a year after opening Platform, we opened Soup in Atlantic City, and have been killing it across the board ever since.

Each restaurant had its own, identifiably unique menu, vibe, look, location, and clientele. Named after a debilitating malady from which my dad suffered, Gout was located in New York City's lower midtown and specialized in upscale, eclectic comfort food in a relaxed, kitschy environment. Soup was a high-end soup kitchen serving simple, yet delectable soups and housemade breads, located in West Atlantic City on the grounds of a Prohibition Era soup kitchen. Platform, on the other hand, was a bohemian bourgeois restaurant offering a la carte options as well as two tasting menus four nights a week, presenting traditional meals of 19th century Czech culinary art, inspired by masterful techniques from the journals of Eastern European immigrants from Philadelphia. On Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights, Platform was transformed into a state-of-the-art rock music venue. I booked all the bands, often booking my band or friends' bands to open or close for well-known, established bands. On every front, Platform was incredible.

Gout only opened up two or three nights per week, and usually stayed in business for two to three months. Afterwards, my dad would relax with my mom at home either in Hazleton, Pennsylvania or their place in Manhattan until the following spring when it was time to do it all over again.

Soup typically operated six nights a week, year-round because Johnny preferred it that way, and despite a recessed economy, business was booming.

Because I had a career in education, Platform only operated during the summer months and for one week in the spring while I had a break.

Though different in many ways we all shared one terrific secret. The food we served at our restaurants was dead and gone when we found it, disgusting, rotten, mutilated, poisonous, and fetid.