: john mcinerney

I have a passion for steamed blue crabs. On a sunny Friday afternoon it transcends any other pleasure — fresh, salty, straight from the shell. I used to trek all the way to Delaware, or call Dave's in Port Richmond only to find he only had "one left." But along my daily commute through West Philly I found an out-of-the-way oasis — Annie's Seafood. Tucked on Haverford and 66th, Ace (who the hell is Annie?) has the cleanest, meatiest hard shells: live or steamed, great prices, almost always available (don't be greedy), and the best tagline in town. So go, but don't let it get around. And tell Ace I sent you.

When you watch Daisies you can't help but think my god this is the Best movie I've ever seen. Or at least I can't. Perhaps it's the never subtle imagery — like when the two heroines, Marie and Marie, cut up sausages with scissors and eat pickles or stand next to an apple tree in a surreal paradise and giggle. Or maybe it's just that these same two Maries are so unbelievably hot as they subvert every stereotype of femininity you can think of. Or maybe it's just the filmmaking itself, with its phenomenal script and jarringly beautiful collage sequences. Or maybe it's simply the way all of these elements come together so perfectly you feel like your head will explode. Whatever, just see this movie.

Blame it on childhood slumber parties — complete with call and response levitation — but I'm a sucker for ghost stories and creepy legends. And who doesn't enjoy oddball roadside attractions? Weird U.S. , a guidebook of local legends, has got the goods. It began with Weird NJ, but now all the states are outed for their odd. Of course, having grown up there, my favorite is still straight out of Jersey: Shirtwood Forest. Men's starched white shirts eerily appear hanging from the trees over a rotting marsh. These ghostly art installations are best absorbed with the locals' letters explaining the meaning of it all and warning us to stay away. Favorite caption: Not the devil, but still avoid him.

These crab-stuffed peppers at Amada have me doing my happy dance. And not just a little happy dance — a full-fledged, Snoopy-style, paw-strumming, head-back boogie-a-thon. I once saw a show where a guy said when he did his first hit of crack, he immediately started thinking about how he was going to afford his new habit. Well Amada's crab-stuffed peppers have got to be the culinary equivalent. As soon as you bite through the roasted pepper, the rich, juicy goodness of the crab stuffing pouring across your tongue, immediately you'll be considering ordering seconds.