Julie Steinberg | Comfort restaurants

In a scene straight out of Alice in Wonderland, I went to a very merry unbirthday party last week. Several of us caroused around a table at an intimate BYO, celebrating, well, nothing. No one had a birthday. No one had an anniversary.

Instead, "My job offer just got rescinded!" someone declared, passing around the tomato and mozzarella salad. "I didn't get the internship I wanted!" my friend added, munching garlic bread. "I have no idea what to do with my life!" I offered. We toasted and ate some more gnocchi.

It's no secret that food is both antidote for the worst moods and elixir for the best ones. After all, seared scallops served with celery-root puree and roasted baby potatoes complement sadness or joy equally well (and misery and euphoria, too). But now that those scallops cost $33 a plate and the recession has cut your paycheck to roughly that amount, it would seem logical to throw in the dinner napkin and traipse to the nearest food cart instead.

But this doesn't seem to be the case. Instead, the recession has seemed to cement societal interest in food and has even spawned new types of communal enjoyment (celebrating the future's uncertainty, for instance). In an admittedly unscientific survey of more than 200 students, 61 percent said that in a recession, they'd rather cut back spending on physical objects such as clothing or electronics. Thirty-three percent said they would cut back on food costs. Similarly, 60 percent answered they would still frequent a hip new restaurant with fabulous food if the cost per person didn't total more than $30.

In a city that touts its culinary prowess and loves food, the cultural emphasis on the pleasures of downtown dining is to be expected. Even so, the proliferation of restaurant openings in the past several months is surprising. According to Eric Cortes, a spokesman for the Greater Philadelphia Tourism Marketing Corporation, more than 20 restaurants have opened since fall 2008, 12 this past winter alone.

One of them, a steak house called Union Trust that opened in February, posits itself as a luxury dining experience. Why, then, would it choose to open during some of the most negative economic conditions in history?

"We didn't even hesitate when we watched everything unfold over the past six months," said Peter Breslow, a publicity consultant for the restaurant. "The operating partners have huge successes under their belts [Capital Grille and Water Works, for example] and with that comes great confidence."

That confidence seems to have paid off, as the restaurant's revenue streams are meeting the partners' expectations. That means Philadelphians are still eating out in droves - students among them.

Eating is an instantaneously gratifying experience. That students prefer to spend their disposable income (or allowance) on going out to dinner reflects the extent to which the notion of experience has marinated. Toss in the fact that breaking bread is one of the most enjoyable communal activities, and it's a night out that's a guaranteed success.

"I'm sure a lot of people think [it's] stupid because we're blowing money on something that doesn't last," College junior and Penn Appetit editor-in-chief Emma Morgenstern said. "But maybe flaunting possessions is out . and having 'experiences' is in."

Indeed, the idea of a three-hour brunch is not only enjoyable because it conjures up images of whole-wheat apple pancakes and huevos rancheros (sans avocado - thanks, Marathon), but because it speaks to the invariable apotheosizing of that truly great meal. Professor Thomas Devaney, who teaches two courses about food, thinks we're "nostalgic about excess," excess that's accompanied by not only the soup du jour, but also by a common memory between friends that lingers after the last bite is gone.

Call it blatant escapism, but nothing says "you're still worth something to me, even if Goldman laid you off" like a rose margarita (with the possible exception of a Robert Pattinson poster).

It's clear that we're not willing to disappoint our taste buds quite yet. If the recession worsens we might see an increase in Ramen noodle sales, but until then, I'm happy to attend as many unbirthday parties as I'm invited to, no matter what I'm uncelebrating.

Julie Steinberg is a College senior from Boca Raton, Fla. That's What She Said appears on alternating Tuesdays. Her email address is steinberg@dailypennsylvanian.com.

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