I heard about Perrystead the way any good Gen Z hears about anything--online. And if there's one thing in life I take seriously, its food (and if there's a second, its going on absurdly long walks in order to explore my city). With that in mind, the first time I visited Perrystead was with no expectations. It was early spring, and the garden wasn't in bloom yet. The cheese, however, blew me away; and every time I've been back since I get the same feeling I did the first time, like I've stumbled across a secret garden in the midst of an industrial center--immune to the normal sounds (and smells) of city life.
My most recent visit was only a week ago--it was a beautiful summer day that only July can bring to Philadelphia, and the garden was in full bloom. This was a special visit, as I had gotten permission from Yoav Perry, the founder and imagination behind Perrystead, to come into the dairy itself. It's pristine inside Perrystead, and every inch is put to good use. No space, or second, go to waste. As I spoke to Yoav, the team worked around us, as busy as the bees outside. We talked about the inspiration behind the cheeses, how a world-renowned dairy ended up in Philadelphia, and perhaps the question I've been asked most often by the many friends I mention it to: why a cheese vending machine?
The selection of cheeses at Perrystead is small with a couple switching in and out seasonally. Yoav and his team have traveled the world with them, winning international competitions and the praise of many a cheese connoisseur. The limited repertoire means they can streamline the process of making every one; each cheese's flavor profile has been experimented with and iterated through to the point of perfection. There are no large cheese wheels here; one individually wrapped block can fit in the palm of your hand, and everything from the shape ("Madcap" is conical, resembling a party hat) to the packaging have been uniquely perfected. Being located in Philadelphia guarantees freshness--the milk is easily brough to Perrystead from nearby dairies and the cheese is just as smoothly stocked by local grocers.
The vending machine, Yoav tells me, is inspired by similar ones across Europe. Designed for sandwiches, its fully refrigerated. The Perrystead machine sits safely inside a specially fit shed; climate controlled, securely monitored, and even has music playing. Ultimately, its existence is a matter of space. Perrystead doesn't have the room for a salesfloor, but they want their product to be available to the community they call home. The machine solves that problem--its open 24 hours a day, takes cards only, and I have never come across it less than mostly full. It's a weekly stop on some of my neighbors' grocery runs, and brings me joy every time I visit.
