Philadelphia Soft Pretzel With Mustard

Description

I always remember Philadelphia as the place I went to art school, where I saw my first baseball game, where I had my first apartment, where I experienced my first burglarized car and home (1. Never leave a case of tape cassettes on your back seat on South Street, and 2) put the loose change in your house in a large Evian bottle with a slit in it. They can’t carry that *and* your VCR.), where i saw my first (and last) shrunken head, and where, believe it or not, I still feel safe. Most of all, whether it was at a baseball game, from a street vendor during lunch, or in the wee hours after a concert, these cold, greasy yummy little twists of dough were always there. Sometimes they were heated up and wore a big dollop of mustard. Sometimes they were cold grab n go treats. But they were always there, a Philadelphia staple.
These prints are here too, for sale, even though the original paintings have been sold. They last longer than the pretzel itself, and they don’t draw ants. Get one now, for Christmas!