The three most important things to know about the new Famous:
1) It's clean. Spotless. Spiffy. Its art deco lamps, tile walls and servers' shirts glow as white as Tom Cruise's teeth. Although the setup is basically the same-same wall of fame, same antique cash registers, same tall windows-the place is so spic 'n' span that it looks completely different.
2) The food is awesome. More on that after No. 3.
3) Its prices are steep. But not really, because its portions are huge-almost obscenely so.
This article was published in Philadelphia Weekly, June 8, 2005
Food – Restaurant Review — Let's Make a Deli
A new owner reinvigorates a tired institution. 
by
Famous Fourth Street Delicatessen
700 S. Fourth St. 215.922.3274
Cuisine: Jewish deli fare
Prices: $6-$24
Hours: 8am-9pm.
Smoking: No
Atmosphere: Bright, white and bustling.
Service: Familiar faces slightly overwhelmed by their newfound popularity.
Food: Corned beef sandwiches too big to bite, oversized omelets, giant stuffed cabbage, copious matzo pancakes, bottomless borscht.
Please indulge a short reminiscence about my first trip to Famous. It involves two noteworthy Philadel-phians. (I won't call them celebrities.)
Several years ago I went to Fourth and Bainbridge to interview Famous' long-time owner David Auspitz (also known as Philadel-phia's Zoning Board of Adjustment chair) about latkes. Auspitz was mid-pancake recipe when he suddenly hopped up, grabbed a coffee pot and poured a cup for a just-sat-down-at-a-table-near-mine "Skinny" Joey Merlino. I was impressed. Insulted, but impressed.
After the interview I headed for the door, where I was greeted by DJ Jerry Blavat, a mountain bike slung over his slim Geator-esque shoulder. I couldn't believe my luck.
That morning made me expect great things from the born-in-1923 deli.
Those great things never came to pass. They were waylaid by plastic-lined coffee cups, half-empty deli cases, undersized corned beef sandwiches, hard salami, unfresh knishes and borscht served in Styrofoam bowls.
Everything changed this March, when a new owner took over. Like Auspitz, Russ Cowan comes from a deli family (Cowan's family had several places in Brooklyn, he's founded 17 delis, and he still owns the Kibbitz Room in Cherry Hill). In one fell swoop he rid Famous of its politician-spitting-Reuben-as-he-cuts-a-deal image and transformed it into Philly's best delicatessen.
The three most important things to know about the new Famous:
1) It's clean. Spotless. Spiffy. Its art deco lamps, tile walls and servers' shirts glow as white as Tom Cruise's teeth. Although the setup is basically the same-same wall of fame, same antique cash registers, same tall windows-the place is so spic 'n' span that it looks completely different.
2) The food is awesome. More on that after No. 3.
3) Its prices are steep. But not really, because its portions are huge-almost obscenely so.
A zaftig brisket sandwich is $12.50, yes-but it's also 6 inches tall, with 13 ounces of warm brown meat. It's so large its eater must consume it in nibbles.
A bowl of chicken soup could double as a kiddie pool. In the matzo ball soup, the rich and spongy centerpiece is softball-sized. (The soup, by the way, is mild chicken broth dotted with melted gold fat, and swimming with rectangles of white meat, sliced carrots and clear onions.)
A half-dozen eggs go into a deliciously salty egg scramble of coral-colored nova and white onions. On the side is a crispy and wide plateau of hash browns masquerading as home fries. Five dense, pleasantly mealy matzo pancakes come in an order.
"Ungashtupt" sandwiches are gigantic, mostly double-decker. The first on the list, from the bottom up: Thick, soft rye from A.C.'s Ginsburg Bakery bolsters 3 inches of marbled, herb-crusted warm pastrami, dense cole slaw, Russian dressing, another slice of rye, and then rosy, briny, warm corned beef, more slaw, more dressing and more rye. A wooden skewer holds it together.
Also on the list: An open-faced deal based on twin flaky potato-and-frankfurter-stuffed knishes overlaid with bacon-looking strips of pastrami, which are blanketed with melted Swiss. This takes up an entire dinner plate. No one could eat this in one sitting.
Among a deep selection of smoked fish (salmon, sable, sturgeon, herring) the whitefish salad is smoky, salty and just barely creamy-the inverse of vanilla ice cream. The platter has a bed of romaine spears with black olives, lemon wedges, a side of cream cheese, red onions and capers, plus your choice of an English muffin-like bialy, onion roll or a New York bagel. Again, this is a lot of food.
But not as much as the stuffed cabbage, available in a manageable appetizer portion and also in a mega-meal size. It's enough for a family of four plus leftovers. This homey specialty marinates in a sweet and sour tomato broth, its tender green leaves encasing cinnamon-tinged beef, white rice, onions and golden raisins.
There's so much food that there's probably no need for sides-but to miss them would be a shame. Potato pancakes are mini fried footballs of pillowy onion and potato. Fried kreplach are wonton-like noodles stuffed with finely chopped beef, topped with browned onion rings.
Kasha varnishkas is a warm cereal-like blend of nutty, earthy buckwheat groats, onions and bowtie pasta. Kishkas are two orange-brown veggie patties of wheat flour, onion, celery and carrots that could best a Gardenburger any day.
Kugel and cheese blintzes are sweet treats that don't count as dessert. The former comes as a firm square cheese-studded noodle pudding set with egg. The latter are irresistible crepe-like bundles dusted in powdered sugar, and oozing with a blend of farmer's, pot and baker's cheeses.
Not to overlook real dessert either. Cowan still offers each diner a shiny, cakey gooey-chocolate-chip cookie, but there's also a beam-thick checker board cake, eclairs the size of bedroom slippers, chocolate cream puffs as large as couch cushions-all pastries consumed by persons braver than I.
I bet the Geat himself couldn't finish a whole one. But I'd like to see him try.
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