Catie Gainer conceived the idea of a bookstore dedicated to cookbooks in a “fever dream” four years ago. Today, her 350-square-foot shop Binding Agents has become a destination for home cooks, chefs, and authors in the Italian Market neighborhood.

“I really envision myself being a stop on the path in the Italian Market — pick up things on your way up and down Ninth Street and step in to [Binding Agents] to grab a book, whether it’s a beach read or a cookbook to plan your holiday,” she previously told The Inquirer.

The shop has also become a community gathering space where Gainor hosts a monthly cookbook club and every guest brings a dish from a featured cookbook.

On her perfect Philly day, Gainor loves basking in the abundance of the Italian Market. She makes quintessential stops, often running into her customers along the way, and ending the day by cooking an omelet.

I am not a morning person, but I have a 3 year old, so I usually start clawing my way out of sleep when she wakes up. This is a perfect day, so it’s a Saturday. My daughter is jumping into bed with me for a snuggle and a chat before my husband, Matt — an early riser— takes over the morning routine. I’ll remain horizontal and half awake until about 8 a.m.

I get up, get dressed, and trundle down the stairs. My husband and daughter have wandered up the street to Mug Coffee & Clay, so I step out to meet them. I love their iced coffee — but since we’re sitting in, I get a cortado. Matt and my daughter have been bringing in pastries from Rougarou Baking on the weekends. [It’s] a gorgeous apricot tart [today]. By the time I sit down, my child is completely covered in croissant crumbs and asking me the names of clay-shaping tools I’ve never seen before — bliss.

We head over to Gold Star Park to enjoy the perfect weather for a bit. Miraculously, I remembered to bring lawn chairs. So, my husband and I set them up and I pull out a book. I usually have multiple books going, one we carry in the shop and one (or two) we don’t. A recent in-store fave was What I Made for Dinner by former Philly resident Krys Malcolm Belc. Another summer release I loved was Rainbow Rowell’s Cherry Baby — not at all culinary, but I liked it so much that I stocked it in the shop anyway.

Then, I’ll walk my family back home and head up to the store. I feel connected to the neighborhood — and the city, really — in a way I never did before. I say, ‘Hi’ to some local customers and market pals as I make my way up Ninth Street. It’s the best.

I arrive at the shop and flip the shop sign — and I’m holding back from hollering, “Cookbooks! Cookbooks for sale!” like some kind of deranged Eliza Doolittle. Folks slowly wander in. I love seeing coffee cups from all over, giant bags of Isgro’s Pastries, and hearing reports about the lunch lines at Angelo’s and Mawn. On a perfect day, I’m flinging book recommendations left and right, and everyone’s kitchen problems or gift-giving conundrums are solved.

My best friend Kate arrives to help for the afternoon after her morning class at Movement Source Pilates (which I also love). She brings me a lavender lemonade from Gleaners and a tofu banh mi from Pho Skyline. I eat my sandwich in the back and eavesdrop while she beautifies the shelves and chats with customers. Someone’s going home with a copy of Dinner Changing the Game by Melissa Clark.

Later, I’m leaving Kate behind at the store so I can run up to Kin Boutique. Whenever I need a clothing item for any reason/occasion, that’s where I’m starting. It feels like entering Cheers, and I immediately have a Diet Coke in hand and 12 things to try in the dressing room. Everyone in the store celebrates my grand sartorial successes. I love them.

Shopping took less time than I thought, so I text Matt and a bunch of friends that I’m assembling snacks for a Di Bruno Bros. Piazza happy hour. I gather all my favorite things from Biederman’s, Claudio’s, Di Bruno’s, and Tortillaria San Roman, then raid Binding Agents for some cutlery, cups, and napkins. While I’m back at the shop, I grab an upcoming cookbook off the shelf of advance copies to take home — I’ll see if I can use it for meal planning next week.

The shop closes and my crew descends on the Piazza. My kid gives me a full account of her day before becoming engrossed in the giant Connect 4. I pour Gulp Hablo Orange into cups. I am one with the universe.

The party breaks up as my friends head off for evening plans about town. My family and I head to John’s Water Ice for a slouching-off-to-toddler-bedtime treat. Many years ago, Matt discovered the gelati combo of lemon water ice with raspberry chocolate chip ice cream. The ice cream has teeny tiny little chocolate cups with a dot of raspberry jam inside each one. It is transcendent, and that’s what I get.

My daughter’s book selection is — unsurprisingly — very food focused. Lately Thank You, Omu [by Oge Mora] has been on repeat at bedtime. I love this one because I get to do lots of voices, and the lyrical repetition is so lovely.

Once she’s down, I’m not truly hungry but I am a little peckish — and I am realizing I haven’t cooked today. Turning on the stove sounds good. I grab a half loaf of Mighty Bread Co. sourdough from the counter, pull some vegetable odds-and-ends out of the fridge, and make a French-ish omelet. I am not good at rolling them but enjoy both the process and the eating, so I keep trying. I assemble plates — and Matt and I dig in.