I recently drove my family 300 miles down to Philly simply so I could eat my favorite food in the world (okay maybe in the USA - Italy is tough to beat.)
First, above find one pizzazz from Celebre's.
It's not exactly a pizza. It has american cheese and sliced tomatoes (along with hot peppers). You wouldn't think this is any good, but it tastes unbelievable.
This pizzazz is surprisingly good also because PHILADELPHIA PIZZA FLAT OUT SUCKS.
New York pizza is of course the gold standard (my favorite is made by the illegal immigrants at My Little Pizzeria on Court Street in Brooklyn Heights). The pizza in New England is not that bad. But I lump Philly pizza in with its inedible cousins in the southern and western states.
Another thing that will shock quite a few of you is the fact that Italian food in general sucks in Philadelphia. Even in South Philly - despite the preponderance of Italian Americans.
My next stop on the food tour was the most deservedly famous Pat's for a cheesesteak. It may have been around 2 am and I may or may not have been overserved that night.
Now some of you probably call it a "steak and cheese" or a "Philly cheesesteak", but down there it is simply a "cheesesteak" or even a "steak".
Everyone in Philly has their favorite cheesesteaks. Some like Dallesandro's (which I loathe), some like Abner's in West Philly (thumbs up from me, especially since the guy with the gold chains there used to sell me beer when I was underaged and thirsty), and the suburbanites from the Main Line all go to Jim's on South Street - mostly because they 1) they are sheepish and 2) they likely are afraid to drive into South Philly.
Quite frankly I think Jim's sucks.
Of course you have Geno's, right across from Pat's. Some militants swear it's better, but the length of the lines always favors Pat's - by a mile.
What astounds me is how few people realize why cheesesteaks in Philly taste so much better than everywhere else. Some simple deduction says that the onions, cheese, and meat are the same as found in the rest of the country. Surely they don't have some special cooking appliances that are only extant in Philadelphia.
It is the bread you fools.
Philadelphia bread is very soft. As such, the hoagie rolls expertly absorb all of the juices: be it oil, grease, mayo, ketchup, whiz, etc. That is quite simply what makes a hoagie or cheesesteak taste better.
You can't replicate Philly bread elsewhere. Just like you can't grow tomatoes in your garden to rival those of southern Italy. The local air and water uniquely determine how the Philly bread dough rises. Go a mere 100 miles north to New York City and the bread rises completely different. In fact, New York bread is disgustingly tough, though ideally suited for bagels and pizza.
Actually, Lido's Subs in Santa Maria, California gets Amoroso's rolls overnighted from Philly. I don't know why more places don't do it. And I especially don't understand why Pat's doesn't open a place in Manhattan. I was recently speaking to a guy who is friends with Pat's owner and he told me that the guy is very hands-on, and doesn't want to open another place if he can't be there to micro-manage.
That sounds like hogwash to me. Eventually someone is going to start selling cheesesteaks in NYC and shipping rolls up the turnpike. They will be slammed 24 hours a day and everyone is going to be shaking their heads that they didn't do it. If there ever was a risk free business plan, this is it.
Pictured above is one Primo Italian hoagie ("italian, works, hots")
Again, it is all about the bread. At Primo's they use Sarcone's bread - which is actually kind of tough and chewy, but like nothing you have ever tasted. Anyway, you haven't had a hoagie until you've had a Primo.
One place on my list that I didn't make it to was Franco & Louigi's. They used to have an unbelievable cheesesteak stromboli, but alas, I found out the place was no more. Another place on my list that I skipped was Nick's Roast Beef in South Philly. I was told the ownership changed hands and the place wasn't what it used to be. I tried to make it to Cherry Street Tavern for their lunchtime roast beef but just couldn't pull it off. Cherry Street is allegedly where Larry Bird hangs his hat each night that he is in town.
Not sure if he and Dr. J clinked beer mugs that fateful night of November 9th, 1984 (looks like it may have been in Boston too).
Sidebar - Who did the NBA consider the instigator in that fight?
Answer - Bird. Larry was destroying the aging Doctor (he had scored 42 points while Erving made just 6) and started taunting him.
Sorry for the nostalgia. Nowadays, the guy with 6 points initiates the taunting or the touchdown dance.
There are a couple of more places I want to recommend in Philly. Monk's Cafe is definitely worth going to. Most of their food is worth eating, especially the burgers on LeBus bread. Monk's is also known for its inventory of a zillion or so beers. I waited 45 minutes for a table last week but had to walk out as the hostess had too many piercings and not enough civility.
Lastly, DiBruno's is a high end Italian Deli, the likes of which I haven't seen matched anywhere even in New York. The place is spectacular. My favorites are their homemade foccacia and aged cheese spreads, especially the Abruzze.
They don't even list the ingredients on the cheese spread containers, which may in fact be illegal. I called up once and asked what exactly was in the Abruzze - feigning an allergic reaction to the cheese. They laughed, told me nice try but they's seen that ruse many a time.
Writing this blog has been torture on my taste buds - it's just making me want to go back.
And I haven't even gotten to Tony Luke's cutlets, Cavanaugh's wings, or Chickie's and Pete's crab fries.
As far as soft pretzel's are concerned....
I haven't had one in years.
A guy on the trading floor of the Philadelphia Stock Exchange told me this discomfiting story. Apparently his brother-in-law used to make deliveries to Federal Pretzel in South Philly. More than once the delivery guy showed up early in the morning, walked into the back room, and saw some guy with his pants around his ankles HUMPING THE DOUGH.
Bon Appetit.
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