Scrapple. It's one of the things I didn't know existed until I moved to Philadelphia. Also in that category: water ice that's different than Italian ice, cheese steaks made into hoagies, and people that dance down Broad St on New Year's Day in lavish costumes. It can be elegantly referred to as breakfast pate, or not so elegantly as a breakfast hot dog - as in, you do not want to ask what's in it. Nevertheless, when cooked properly it is crispy on the outside, lovely and soft on the inside and porky all over. This morning I served it atop a thick slice of cornbread with a maple syrup drizzle alongside a fluffy delicate mound of scrambled eggs. Not pictured: hot dark roast coffee. It's going to be a tasty weekend.
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