The best things we ate this week

There’s a whole lotta shakshuka going on at Café La Maude, Nathalie and Gabi Richan’s snug, perpetually busy French-Lebanese bruncherie in Northern Liberties. In fact, the café offers two varieties of the comforting sunny-side-up-egg-topped dish that traces its roots to Amazigh (also known as the Berbers of North Africa). The red shakshuka, more prevalent on local menus, floats beef sausage, crispy chickpeas, pesto, sliced fingerling potatoes, and harissa labneh atop a rich, spiced tomato sauce studded with onions and peppers. Café La Maude’s green version sits on the opposite side of the color wheel: green tomatoes, spinach, kale, and green fava beans, plus sweet potatoes and fried cauliflower, with a drizzle of carrot tahini sauce and a sprinkle of toasted almonds. Budgeting your pita consumption is essential so you can be sure to get every drop of sauce.

Café La Maude, 816 N. Fourth St., 267-318-7869, cafelamaude.com

— Michael Klein

There’s a lot to love about Ellen Yin’s new-ish bakery The Bread Room — the fudgy olive oil brownie, the large hoagie salad with capicola, and the holiday pies — but perhaps the menu’s most overlooked gem is the humble candied ginger scone. I’ve been getting it almost weekly as a reward for braving the cold (and my perpetually late SEPTA bus) to go into the office, and it’s often the best bite of my week. What makes the Bread Room’s scone so distinct is the texture, dense enough to verge on a biscuit with an outer crust only made better by a light pink ginger glaze. It feels like biting into just-hardened royal icing, and reveals a soft and sweet crumb. The ginger is potent but never overpowering, more sweet than zesty.

The Bread Room, 834 Chestnut Street Ste. 103, 215-419-5830, thebreadroomphl.com

— Beatrice Forman

I was told to jump on a reservation for one of Heavy Metal Sausage’stwoFeast of More Than Seven Fishes seatings; that they would sell out fast and blow me away. Everything I heard was correct.

On Monday night, my partner and I got to experience the absolute feat that is Heavy Metal Sausage stuffing 14 people into their butchery for an honest and approachable — yet extremely technical — meal that adds layers to the Italian American tradition. Every bite was wonderful, including a key lime cured mackerel and an acidic eel stew over Bloody Butcher polenta. But the night’s showstopper was a velvety egg custard, served in a ramekin and finished with heaps of uni and cubes of swordfish bacon alongside a platter of other raw and cooked seafood.

Did you know swordfish bacon was a thing? I didn’t, and now I want it forever. Chef Pat Alfiero said he salted, cured and cooked his swordfish the same way he would for pork bacon. Perhaps pig bacon might be overrated.

Heavy Metal Sausage Co., 1527 W. Porter St., heavymetalsausage.com

— Emily Bloch

I could go on and on about the amazing duck wings glazed with black pepper hoisin at Atlantic City’s Cardinal, a cavernous restaurant with an inventive menu from chef Michael Brennan. The kitchen and bar focus on the details (my reposado and biscotti liqueur cocktail came topped with a literal biscotti), but it was the main course that left me truly wide-eyed.

Behold the Halibut Schnitzel, two words I’ve never heard said together. It arrived with two meaty pieces of lightly pounded out and schnitzel-ed halibut perched happily atop a very caper-forward lemony sauce and a carpet of tiny bell peppers. A charred lemon sat beside them. It was a puckery, flaky, satisfying coat of many flavors. Delish.

Cardinal Restaurant, 201 South New York Ave., Atlantic City, N.J., 609-246-6670, cardinal-ac.com

— Amy S. Rosenberg

As a kid, whenever I’d complain of being hungry, my dad would respond with one of his favorite idioms: “Hunger,” he’d say, “is the best sauce.” He was wrong, of course. The best sauce is the blackened ranch dipping sauce at Popeyes Louisiana Kitchen.

I was already running dangerously late to 30th Street Station to can an Amtrak train to Boston, when I stumbled upon a Popeyes on Market Street. In no world was this a responsible detour, particularly with a $200 train ticket hanging in the balance. But Popeyes is an American culinary institution, and when you come across one in the wild, you must take advantage. (After all, there’s a reason a trendy Long Beach, Calif. brunch spot once got caught serving Popeyes chicken with its dishes and then vehemently defended itself.) I ordered a spicy chicken sandwich combo meal with a biscuit and proceeded to eat it the way fast food is meant to be eaten: Out of the bag, standing, with only a modicum of self-shame. The chicken patty? Juicy and impossibly plump. The fries? Psoriasis-scabbed and fresh out of the fryer. The biscuit? A butter-kissed dream.

In the end, I still managed to make my train — though, after that meal, it would’ve been well worth it even if I hadn’t.

Popeyes Louisiana Kitchen, 940 Market St., (267) 239-2388, popeyes.com

— Dugan Arnett

It’s not island weather, but the best thing I ate this week was the salmon kebab with a squeeze of sumac-sprinkled grilled lemon at Kanella in Center City. The salmon was a succulent orange-pink, crispy on the outside, tender and juicy within. Yes, my mom and I were the only patrons in the middle of a weekday afternoon. Yes, it was nearly sleeting outside, but the restaurant was so charming. And none of that mattered when this dish arrived. The salmon shared a plate with grilled green lettuce, fiery red harissa, sweet purple onions, and that wedge of bright lemon. The service was warm; holiday covers played on the sound system. I’d come back in any time.

Kanella, 1001 Spruce St., 267-928-2085, kanellarestaurant.com

— Zoe Greenberg