There are days when I'd pay money to eat the smell of this place—when an $8 pulled pork sandwich with collard greens and a can of Coke doctored from my hip flask are all that stand between me as a productive Center City worker bee and me as a surly, starving sonofabitch ready to unload on the next poor sap who asks me about my TPS reports. Every person in the city should be so lucky as to work within sprinting distance of this second, miniaturized version of Michael Solomonov's paean to the barbecue sandwiches of the American heartland. Those who do (and have discovered this place in the Market at the Comcast Center) know exactly what I'm talking about. And those who don't? Just practice patience, because with the success he's seeing at 17th and JFK, Solomonov must already be thinking of Percy Street as a multi-unit gold mine just waiting to be exploited.