I didn’t realize this was an polarizing opinion until I moved to Philly in 2002. Then and now, I’m regularly sprayed with local, sustainable venom for expressing even the mildest Wawa shade. You’re not from here so you don’t get it is the incessant refrain, as if the first three digits of my Social Security number somehow make me incapable of formulating thoughts on a cup of Macaroni & Beef that tastes exactly the same, whether it’s spooned out in Folsom or in Lake Wales, Florida.