Daddy’s Doggy Bag: Isabella Conshohocken.

How beautiful is this day East Coasters? Seriously!

I have enjoyed every minute of the weather we have had recently, even with my runny nose and allergy eyes. Am I the only one that feels that this season’s headaches arrived somehow, fashionably late?

All night I was debating whether or not to introduce you guys to the newest idea I have come up with for a little feature on GtoG.

I’m calling it: Daddy’s Doggy Bag.

This is what I think up at 10 o’clock at night when my second dinner (aka my Dad and a plastic bag) roll in the door. This simple act has introduced me to many restaurants that I now hold near and dear to my heart (the man is also responsible for fostering my horrible late night eating habits).

For instance, Alma de Cuba. He brought home the Vaca Frita many moons ago. I was a goner.

But what do you expect from me when I receive texts like this at all hours of the day? 

That I don’t follow his instructions and either go with him or without him to try what he is raving about?! Maybe my Dad is a faux foodie, but he has his own credentials as somehow 90% of the time what he brings home, or babbles endlessly about is truly very delicious.

My issue is, are leftovers really a way to judge a restaurant? 

In the case of Isabella in Conshohocken, just a minute or two off the Main Line, the answer to the question is yes. 

 Margherita Pizza.. was the surprise at the 11th hour of Monday night.

The crust, even cold and hours old, held a crunch and was packed with flavor more than just the predictability that usually comes with pizza crust. The sauce, although garlicy, was chunky just how I like it, complimented well by the basil, and the very melty perfectly portioned dollops of mozzerella cheese. 

3 pieces deep, I shut the box, and gave Dad the thumbs up. 

Daddy’s Doggy Bag brought home another winner, and I think I have to go to Isabella.

Check out some of the ratings:


382 E. Elm Street





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