Soup Friday: Crowded Kitchen (Lancaster Central Market) – Split Pea
This week, I decided to search for my next bowl of soup beyond the Harrisburg area. After a 45-minute drive that featured ads telling me I desired the services of a lad named Chad, adorable baby Christmas trees that I admired as they started their journey towards ending up lying face down on the curb in eleven months, and the overpowering stench emanating from an amalgamation of various kinds of farm animal dung, I arrived in Lancaster. As I left the parking garage, a vibrant ramen mural on the side of a nearby building immediately caught my eye. While I wouldn’t be ordering noodles today, I perceived the colorful wall with a bowl of broth on it as an auspicious sign for my soup ahead.
As someone who frequently roams around the decaying Harrisburg downtown area, it was refreshing to walk around a city with a palpable presence even in the dead of winter. Every block felt like it was brimming with culture. Hopefully, the leaders in charge of the Harrisburg revitalization project take notes from Lancaster. Following a five minute stroll of brooding urban envy, I reached the country’s oldest farmer’s market and my Soup Friday destination, Lancaster Central Market.
The first Dog customer at Lancaster Central Market. Date unknown
Despite only being four years away from celebrating its three-hundredth birthday, Central Market remains bustling with many local lunchgoers and tourists stopping every six feet to snap a photo of every stand they pass. The somewhat narrow pathways contribute to the chaos, but I navigated them with ease as I’ve grown accustomed to driving around city streets tightened by protruding mounds of snow over the last two weeks.
Anyone who visits Central Market can confirm that Mac Miller’s philosophy, “Anything you need you can find it at the market,” rings true. All the farmer’s market staples like produce, coffee, pretzels, candy, baked goods, flowers, cute stand names, and Mennonites were all present. However, a few other factors allowed Central Market to stand out in comparison to your average farmer’s market. These included the meat that gave off the impression that it was recently slaughtered close by at a Lancaster County farm, a variety of popular international stands that would cause conservatives to create an alternative farmer’s market, novelty baby clothes focused on the town of Intercourse, PA, and the greatest bowl cut I have ever seen, crowned a young Mennonite king’s head with luscious majesty.
Worried about potential religious belief issues and Pennsylvania photographing consent laws, here is an artist depiction of the bowl cut.
A minute later, my food arrived at my table. It may have been pricy, but you do get somewhat of your money’s worth with the quantity of food Cornerstone serves you. I received a respectable bowl size filled up 90% of the way with the minestrone and a sandwich that contained a hearty portion of poultry. The steam emitted a welcoming tomatoey aroma. This was a much better smell than the Cornerstone perfume your clothes maintain hours after leaving the coffee shop. I peered down at the minestrone and quickly observed that it exhibited the best presence of vegetables so far this Soup Season.
Ev Dog’s Top 5 Lancaster Central Market Stand Names
5. Mean Cup >:(
4. Uncle Leroy’s Candy Kitchen
3. Seoulmates Korean Kitchen
2. The Turkey Lady
1. Grasshopper’s Wicked Pickles
As I continued to make my rounds through the market’s rows, I became surrounded by so many temptations that stomach began to rumble. To avoid spoiling my soup appetite, I permitted myself to have a small pretzel and medium roast coffee. I reasoned that the carbs and caffeine would provide me with post-lunch fuel for my travels home. After quickly consuming them, I turned the corner and gazed upon a stand like no other I had previously seen at a farmer’s market. That stand was Crowded Kitchen.
My soup- and beer-loving heart was instantly captured by what made their stand so unique. On top of buying a bowl of soup made with farm-to-kettle ingredients at Crowded Kitchen, one can also be served whatever stock they have on tap. You read that right! Crowded Kitchen chills their stocks in kegs and dispenses them for customers from a modified beer tap. And for those longing for the days of drinking a refreshing Capri Sun, but also want something more filling, then you’ll need to check out their broth pouches that are marketed as, “Ready to drink.” Respect the broth pouch. RESPECT IT! Three soups were written on their menu: cream of mushroom, coconut carrot lemongrass, and split pea. After a moment of deliberation, I decided to go with a bowl of the split pea.
As I carried the bag containing my soup to the dining area, I noticed there were no tables or chairs available. Fortunately for this soup reviewer, the thirty-degree temperature guaranteed that the tables outside in the alley in front of the market would be open. This spot proved to be another elite people watching/listening location as many characters entered the market. A cane-wielding woman wearing a cowboy hat and fringed leather jacket was the most memorable. She first greeted a miniature husky that had its leash tied to a bench as its owner went inside with a “Hey Puppers,” and proceeded to pick the startled pooch up and began to pet it like it was her own. The dog’s real owner returned and shockingly had no reaction to this. They discussed the dog further and apropos of nothing, the woman delivered her origin story of her need for a cane, which essentially was the result of a skiing accident.
Pouch sold separately.
I focused my attention back towards my soup as I had to eat it swiftly or would risk it becoming unappetizingly lukewarm in the cold weather. At first glance, the split pea reminded me of one of my niece’s spinach baby food jars. The green color of the soup additionally evoked the appearance of another baby-related substance. With that unfortunately in my mind, I dug in. The thick consistency and taste of peas may be overwhelming to some at first, but it actually grew on me. As I ate my fourth spoonful, the thought of a curry was conjured upon my tastebuds. I believe this idea stemmed from the contributions of the soup’s other elements. The light notes of vegetable diversity featuring carrot, onion, and celery enhanced the soup’s flavor. Furthermore, the tarragon equipped the soup with a harmonious counter to the peas. At first, I objected to adding the long crusty garlic bread croutons served with the split pea in order to prevent a rating that does not accurately reflect the soup on its own. However, I changed my mind after completing half of the bowl and realizing exactly what generated the soup’s most prominent flaw.
Unlike many pea soups, this split pea does not force its peas to share the stage with a ham costar. I didn’t mind the absence of ham as that normally causes the pea soup to become too salty for my liking, but the lack of an additional substantial element in the soup made the bowl-sized version of the soup difficult to finish on its own. In its cup-sized form, this missing presence is likely negligible, especially if one is simultaneously eating a sandwich or salad with it. While it might not be as tasty as a combination of pepper jack tomato soup and garlic croutons, Crowded Kitchen’s split pea still benefits from the necessary addition of the crunchy garlic bites.
In the end, my excursion to Lancaster Central Market was a success as I had a nice soup lunch and found my new go-to soup bar.
Soup Score: