Greg Vernick is tired of naming things after himself.

The Cherry Hill-born restaurateur came to prominence in 2012 with Vernick Food & Drink, his eponymous Rittenhouse Square New American venture that Inquirer food critic Craig LaBan once called “Philadelphia’s best overall restaurant.” In the years since, Vernick opened a new age oyster bar on the ground floor of the Four Seasons Hotel, a café in the Comcast Technology Center, and a wine shop — all tied to together by his last name.

His latest venture Emilia — a pasta-forward Italian restaurant on Frankford Avenue in East Kensington — was of 2026’s most anticipated openings. Craig LaBan called it “phenomenal”. Its name, Vernick said, doesn’t mean much.

“Yeah, it’s a made up name,” he told The Inquirer in February while sitting in Emilia’s dining room. “As we grow, [the restaurants] become more collaborative and less about me.”

Right now, Vernick is spending the majority of his time fine-tuning service at Emilia, where he likes to cut the complimentary bread for a moment of stillness before committing himself to the rush of watching the food go out during dinner. Despite his meticulousness, Vernick is very nonchalant about success. When Vernick Food & Drink earned a Michelin Guide recommendation in November, he grounded himself by thinking of the Jersey Shore.

“When you get too high, it’s no good. And when you get too low, it’s no good. You have to stay level,” Vernick said. “It’s like driving down Atlantic Ave. [in Ventnor, N.J.]. There’s a light on every block. You’re not going to get green lights all the way down, and you can’t get p— when you get stuck at a red.”

It’s an apt metaphor for a man who is about as Philadelphia adjacent as they come.

Vernick’s mom Beth — who owned the health-focused luncheonette Haddonfield Diet Shop in the 1980s — once said she knew her son wanted to be a chef when she caught him trying to imitate the pizza from Pica’s in their kitchen. Vernick himself, however, cites his mom as his biggest inspiration. When Vernick was a child, she’d take him to dim sum lunches at Joy Tsin Lau and family dinners at Vietnam Restaurant.

“Some of my fondest memories are sitting around a table in Chinatown for one of those grand lazy Susan sort of dinners,” Vernick said. “I think getting exposed to different flavors and food with my parents as a young kid was pivotal.”

So how does Vernick, who now lives blocks away from his restaurants in Rittenhouse Square, spend a perfect Philly day? By working, calling his parents, and squeezing in a late night bite at a members-only club.

I wake up with my wife Julie to get my daughters — who are 7 and 12 years old — on the school bus. If time permits, we make pancakes and slather them with syrup and whipped cream.

It sounds funny because I’m a chef, but a lot of the time the pancakes have ugly shapes because I’m trying to get them done as fast as I can. My wife goes to the Rittenhouse Square Farmers Market every Saturday to get fresh fruit for the house, so lately I’ve been adding apples from Hands on the Earth orchard to make their plates a little prettier.

Afterward, I’m at Zarett Rehab & Fitness for weight training and a chiropractic adjustment. I started going to [owner Joe Zarett] for physical therapy about 18 months ago after a ski accident, but it’s become the perfect start to my day.

After a hot shower, I’m walking to my first stop of day: a check-in at Vernick Coffee Bar inside the Comcast Center. On the way, I stop at an Old Nelson for an egg and cheese on a kaiser roll with salt and pepper and a drip coffee. I really love convenience stores. I love a Wawa, I love a Sheetz — pretty much any convenience store where I can get a sandwich.

I’ll inhale the sandwich before I’m at the hotel. Right now, I’ve been doing this while listening to [My Next Breath,] Jeremy Renner’s memoir. It’s intense.

Once I’m at the coffee bar, I check with our managers about what I like to call the ‘oh s—" of the day: staffing callouts, maintenance repairs, or if an ingredient or something didn’t get delivered.

Then, I check the pastry display. I like a robust pastry case with probably more stuff in it [than my staff] wants. I love the look of a place like Zak the Baker in Miami, where you walk in and bakery items are spilling out, just golden brown and delicious everywhere. If I’m feeling snacky, I’ll sneak a piece of our coffee cake — which is such a sleeper — to dip in coffee.

After, I take the elevator down to Vernick Fish to do the same sort of check-ins with our sous chefs and chef de cuisine. If it’s an ideal situation — and it is because it’s my perfect day — we’ll sit down to do menu planning, which is my favorite thing to do.

At my age, I really like the collaborative part of it, but I also like to push the menu ... I don’t have allegiance to any one dish.

I like to walk through Rittenhouse Square on the way to my next check-in at [Vernick] Food & Drink. On the way, I’ll call my parents. And if the weather is nice, I’ll sit with them in the park for a little while. It fills my cup, and it’s such a blessing to have them so close.

Since I own Food & Drink outright with my wife, the nature of the “oh s—" is a little different. There’s no director of engineering, no person to put in a maintenance request to. Over here, I’m still plunging toilets. Here, I also tend to wait around to watch all the cooks arrive.

I miss being on the line. To have the singular focus of just manning a cutting board with a prep list? I miss that dearly.

I Uber over to [East Kensington] to start preparing for dinner service at Emilia, but I rush to get a pastry at Fiore before they close for the day. They have some of the best Italian pastries in the city, hands down — especially their cornetti. It’s the closest you’ll get to what they have in Italy.

Fiore is a big reason why Emilia is [in East Kensington]. We asked [co-owner] Ed [Crotchet] to tell us everything about the neighborhood, and it felt like he was already welcoming us to the community.

Everything he said was right, by the way. We’re near a couple of daycares and I love seeing strollers roll up and down the street all day long. It reminds me that the people who live here care about the neighborhood.

I’ve just spent the past hour or so helping with prep for dinner service at Emilia — cutting bread, filleting meat, whatever.

I expedite food during the first part of dinner service. I really like seeing the food go out, and the push and pull of the dining room: The dining room is full, the bar is full, and there’s a borderline waitlist of people. I hate waiting for the rush to come. A good 5 p.m. seating is essential because it gets everyone moving.

Dinner service goes off without a hitch, so I’m sneaking off to a Phillies game. The best thing a Philadelphian can do when the weather is nice is go to a Phillies game.

I’d bring my whole family — my parents, my kids, my wife. My dad is the biggest Phillies fan. He doesn’t keep score, but he follows the game so well that he can predict the pitches. The best seat in the house is next to him. I’m probably eating a Federal Donuts chicken sandwich, and the kiddos always want the ice cream in the upside down baseball helmet.

I’m taking Julie to Palizzi Social Club for a night cap. You have to start with the Caesar salad there. It’s crunchy. It’s fresh. It has the right amount of anchovy, the right amount of cheese. It’s my measure of a perfect Caesar salad. After that, I’m going to town on the grilled lamb chops.

I’ve been a fan of [Palizzi Social Club owner] Joey [Baldino]’s cooking for a long time. I was a Zeppoli regular back in the day — that’s his first restaurant — so I had to get on Palizzi early. I still have my original membership card. I was no. 186.

This interview has been edited for length and clarity.