I want to say that I waited a extra few days to post part two, the riveting conclusion to this cheesesteak tragedy of Shakespearean proportions, because I wanted to keep you on the edge of your seat, butthole clenched tightly in sheer anticipation... but really I'm just lazy. I didn't do much thinking this past week with regards to food or anything really. Anyway, in part one, me and my cohorts braved plunging temperatures and grueling winds into the mean streets of South Philadelphia... the land where the Italians laid their claims. It was there that we found an oasis, a promised land of milk and honey (by which I mean cheese and thinly sliced steak on a roll).
Except it wasn't all that and a bag of potato chips. Was Pat's good? Sure, it was decent. Was it worth having frozen snot rolling down my face? No. I didn't need to experience that for a mediocre cheesesteak, just as you probably didn't need that disgusting visual used to describe an eating experience. Maybe Geno's would be better. His name sounds more Italian. Italian people know how to make good sandwiches. Flawless logic.
That there is their cheesesteak. Like a torpedo of meat, cheese, and onions. It's so sleek. It just oozes sex, by which I mean oil from the beef. It also cost $8.50. Sure, to most people who have jobs and whatnot that might seem reasonable, but not me. If a sandwich costs over $5, it better make my jaw hurt from the excessive amount of chewing I have to do to finish it. To me, this leads to an obvious conclusion... that it must be so overwhelmingly delicious and full of love that value was irrelevant!
Except it wasn't. In fact, it was downright disappointing. Let me break this down in order of components. The bread is not bad. Let's be honest here, it's pretty hard to fuck up a pre-baked hoagie roll. Then we move onto the cheese. Whiz of course. It comes from a can, some people hate it, I happen to love it, but no matter what, the fine people at Kraft Foods make sure that every can comes out exactly the same. No complaints from me there. The beef... come on. It's like they didn't even try on that one. I'm pretty sure it's just frozen steak that they threw on the griddle. Fuck. I could do that! I also wouldn't charge $8.50 for it. You know what's the worst part? They didn't even bother to chop it. "Some people like it better this way," they might say. To me it just reeks laziness. To further worsen my experience, I clearly only have onions on half my cheesesteak. Can someone explain to me how that even makes sense? It was cold outside. You had plenty of time to not screw up one of the few sandwiches you had to make. Goddamn.
The roast pork sandwich. It's actually not too bad. Gobs and gobs of juicy and oily pork get piled over a bed of fully melted and integrated provolone cheese. There's so much pig-on-pig action it should be considered criminal. But there's something missing. Hrm, what could it be? Oh I know... variation. This sandwich gets boring... fast. First bite is sheer ecstasy, second bite is still impressive, third bite is indifference, and it just goes downhill from there. Know what this thing needs? Greens. Roasted peppers. Something.
The best in South Philly you say? Oh, that must be a very small place... since you're not even the best in the neighborhood. You're even more mediocre than the one across the street. What was the name of that place again? Pat's or something? My point is, they both make overpriced forgettable sandwiches, and they're living purely off hype. Would I eat there again? Sure, if it were free... but I'm a fat kid at heart, what wouldn't I eat if it were free?