Carrion Luggage

Say Cheesesteak

Back when I was in Belgium, at one point, I was on a tour where a guide pointed out one of the local landmarks: an "authentic" Philly Cheesesteak restaurant, complete with bronze statue of Rocky Balboa.

Don't get me wrong. I like a Philly cheesesteak as much as someone not from Philadelphia is allowed to. But American food in Belgium is like copper in a gold mine.

Except for the frites (fries), of course. We stole those from Belgium (not France) fair and square, so it's only right if they steal them back.

This brings me to the article that popped up today, something dated 2018 from Afar:

    The True Tale of the Philadelphia Cheesesteak  
It all started with a hot dog.

I'm not going to take the article's word that it's a "true tale." Food history is notoriously complicated and mythologized, as with yesterday's bit about Worcestershire sauce. Still, the subhead about the hot dog effectively baited me in.

The cheesesteak I smell frying is nearly the same as the original born here 85 years ago: An Italian hoagie roll packed with thinly sliced rib eye and Spanish onions, both sautéed on a flat-top grill, sometimes with peppers and mushrooms. Cheese, whether you opt for provolone or the iconic Cheez Whiz—just “Whiz” in local parlance—holds the whole thing together.

I might have mentioned before that I tried to explain Cheez Whiz to someone in France, and while I expect looks of pity and contempt from the French, the utter disbelief and disdain radiating off of his face at what America did to cheese was hot enough to melt Cheez Whiz.

But ask anyone what really makes a cheesesteak and they’ll tell you it’s the roll.

I'm always happy to see someone share my point of view that bread is the only food and everything else is a condiment.

“You’re always hearing about how one particular cheesesteak place is the best, even though I probably make more in one day than they sell in a year,” says Olivieri. “But cheesesteak joints are like opinions. They’re everywhere, and all valid.”

If we didn't all have different tastes, there wouldn't be such an enormous selection of food and beverage to choose from. Pizza places would only serve one pie. Breweries would only make one beer. Boring. I'm sure it's fun to argue about which cheesesteak place is the best, though.

And opinions are like assholes: everyone has one, and most of them stink.

Only Pat’s can claim to be the original. The cheesesteak, Olivieri tells me, was invented in 1930 on this very corner by his grandfather Harry and his great-uncle Pat Olivieri.

Maybe. Maybe not. It's good marketing, though.

The duo worked as hot dog vendors in an open-air Italian market, and when times were good they would buy beef and fry it up with onions for their lunch. One day, a taxi driver asked if he could buy the sandwich instead of a hot dog. Pat offered to split it. The driver, smitten, advised the pair to sell them.

Hence the hot dog connection. One might ask, "but why didn't they just eat a hot dog?" Well, I know if I sold hot dogs all day, the last thing I'd want for a snack is a hot dog. This doesn't mean I believe the story, only that it makes it more plausible.

It wasn’t until World War II, however, that the cheesesteak became a Philly emblem. A true showman, Pat started a rumor in the days of WWII rationing that his sandwiches contained horse meat, then, in mock outrage, offered a $10,000 reward for someone to prove it.

Now, that? That is brilliant marketing. Probably couldn't be done today, though, not with DNA sequencing as ubiquitous as it is. It also produces false positives. "See? This report shows it truly is horse meat! Gimme my money." The marketing campaign would backfire, and you'd go bankrupt and get beaten to death by horse lovers.

While places like Pat’s continue to churn out the classics, the current cheesesteak scene reflects the city’s changing dining landscape. HipCityVeg makes a respectable vegan version. The cheesesteak even gets an haute touch at Barclay Prime, a swanky steak house, where Wagyu beef is tucked into a sesame roll and piled with foie gras and truffled cheese.

There is no food so iconic that someone hasn't come up with a gourmet version designed to better separate you from your money..

I should note that I never did go to the Philly cheesesteak place in Belgium. Not because I didn't trust it, but because I wanted to experience things we don't get in the US. If anything, I had some fear that the cheesesteak there would be so good that I could no longer eat the ones here, and that would be a real shame.