That's Not A Cheesesteak!

If you’ve read my review of Jake’s Steaks, you know I’m a big fan, and that I have faith that real cheesesteaks CAN be found in the Bay Area.  That’s why I was very intrigued when a friend of mine said that I just HAD to try the steaks at Phat Philly in the Mission.  While I resent the insinuation the restaurant’s name makes about my Philadelphia brethren and our weight issues, I can be swayed pretty easily.

GET IT: Several things rubbed me the wrong way as I made my way to the counter.  First of all, there’s a “Pepper Bar” in the back that contains a selection of assorted hot sauces.  I love hot sauce just as much as the next guy, but there’s no place for hot sauce (not to mention, such variety) on a cheesesteak.

Secondly, the place isn’t even a Philly bar!  There’s absolutely no allegiance to any of the Philadelphia sports franchises, and the guy behind the counter looked at me like I was crazy when I asked about it.  So, you’re going to steal the greatest sandwich ever invented from the greatest city ever established, use gimmicks like Tastykakes and Herr’s chips (“We ship these snacks in from Philly direct!”), and not have the decency to even PRETEND to support their sports teams?  GTFO!!!  This better be one damn good cheesesteak.

And finally, there’s the menu (see below).  It lists the cheeses: “Whiz (for the purists), White American, Provolone or our all Natural House-Made Cheddar Beer Sauce made w/New Castle Beer.”  For the love of God, Whiz is not for purists!  Some people prefer Whiz, most people think it’s terrible, and outside of Pat’s and Geno’s, no one really offers it, at least not by default.  And what is this “House-Made Cheddar Beer Sauce”?  Sounds gross.  No thanks.  The menu also lists caramelized onions by default.  So unless you specifically ask for the cheesesteak “without,” you’re getting those onions.

EAT IT: When I was handed my sandwich, I looked at it, wondering who got to it first (see pic at top of review).  A thin layer of steak covered about half of the Amoroso real estate, reminiscent of a shitty diner in Atlantic City.  When I bit into it, I found myself gasping for ketchup, something I resort to only when a cheesesteak is too dry.  This thing was beyond dry, way too overcooked.  They even managed to screw up the Amoroso roll, which seemed a little stale.

WELL? Well, Phat Philly taught us a couple valuable lessons.  First, I will never take that friend’s advice about food ever again.  Second, even if you manage to procure the right ingredients for a proper cheesesteak, you can still make a mess of it.  Phat Philly, you can TAKE A HIKE!

NOT A CHEESESTEAK!

The end of summer had come, which meant a trip down to Ocean City, MD with some friends for some partying and shenanigans.  The results included trashed hotel rooms, a friend with a broken hand, another friend nearly thrown off our 4th floor balcony, and a killer hangover.  My hope was that a cure to said hangover laid in a cheesesteak from the crummy establishment of Big Pecker’s Bar & Grill, conveniently located across the street from our hotel.

As we entered Big Pecker’s, I recognized all of the waitresses immediately as relatives of every single girl I’ve ever met at the Jersey shore.  The awful tans, extra baggage around the waists, and that still-drunk-at-11am look gave them away.  One of the waitresses came and brought us all coffee, which was by far the most disgusting coffee I’ve ever tasted.  It was as if they took the water they used to clean out the coffee maker, heated it up (barely), and served it.  But I am not a coffee expert, so I’ll cut to the chase.

GET IT: The “Philly Cheese Steak” listed tomatoes, in addition to steak, cheese and onions, as an ingredient.  Tomatoes?  GTFO!  You can hold those, Sandy, as well as the onions please.  And while you’re at it, tell your cousin Colleen up in Jersey that I’m sorry I never called her back.  I just can’t respect a girl who wakes up in her own vomit and urine.

EAT IT: Maybe it was the hangover.  Maybe it was the coffee.  Or maybe it was the fact that the $8.99 sandwich I ordered came on a soggy roll with Steak-umm and the grossest looking cheese I’ve ever seen, which had a yellow liquid floating in the middle of it (see picture above) that could either have been grease or Sandy’s leftovers from the previous evening.  Oh, I ate it.  Every last bite.  Because did I enjoy it?

WELL? Not only did it not cure my hangover, but it was the worst “cheesesteak” eating experience I’ve ever had in my entire life.  And to top it off, it gave me a stomach ache that I could not relieve until I arrived back in Brooklyn five hours later.

NOT A CHEESESTEAK!

I recently went to Mulholland’s, my favorite sports bar in Williamsburg.  It may also be the ONLY sports bar in Williamsburg, as hipsters typically have a hard time focusing on activities that don’t include dressing ironically, growing mustaches and rolling around in dirt.  But this bar is pretty tits.  I especially like their friendly bartenders, good beer specials and “Cheap Bastard Wrap,” which contains Steak-Ums, cheese, lettuce, tomatoes and a shitload of mayo.  Delicious, and as the name suggests, very cheap.  It’s what I always get there, but they also have a “Philly Cheese Steak,” so I figured I should try it.

GET IT: The menu reads:

Philly Cheese Steak
Philly hero comes with melted cheese, sauteed onions and Mulholland’s secret sauce on a baguette.

For those outside of NYC, “hero” means “hoagie,” “secret sauce” means “ketchup + mayonnaise” and “baguette” means “the wrong kind of bread.” I ordered it without onions and braced myself.

EAT IT: The pic at the top of this article shows the pile of peppers I was forced to remove from my “hero.”  There was literally an even ratio of peppers to steak!  GTFO!  I could not taste anything other than the steak, cheese and peppers, so I am led to believe that “Mulholland’s secret sauce” was not ketchup + mayonnaise, but rather “a shitload of peppers!  Gotcha, bitch!”

WELL? At half the price and three times the pleasure, I found myself yearning for the Cheap Bastard Wrap the whole time.  This hero can take a hike!

NOT A CHEESESTEAK!

Over the weekend, I made a trip with some friends up to the Hudson Valley for a Wilco concert and a lot of wine consumption.  Along the way, we stopped at Joe’s Italian Market Place for some food.

GET IT: The first alarm went off for me when reading their menu.  The listing for their cheesesteak read:

Philly Cheese Steak
Marinated London Broil
American Cheese
Sauteed Mushrooms, Onions, Peppers

London broil?  Are you kidding me?  Mushrooms and peppers?  GTFO!  So I ordered the sandwich, sans mushrooms, onions and peppers.  The next exchange also threw me for a loop:

Joe’s Employee: Roll or wedge?
Me: Excuse me?
Joe’s Employee: Roll or wedge?
Me: Yes, I heard the words, I just don’t understand what they mean.
Joe’s Employee: Do you want a roll or a wedge?
Me: What is a roll?
Joe’s Employee: (Shows me a kaiser roll.)
Me: Well I don’t want that.  What’s a “wedge?”
Joe’s Employee: (Shows me a wedge, which looks like an Italian roll.)
Me: That one.

EAT IT: I must state, for the record, that I waited almost 2 hours from purchase to consumption, as we waited to get to the beach before eating.  That said, I enjoy warm (vs. hot) cheesesteaks, so this did not affect my grading.  At first glance of the sandwich, it looked like a cheesesteak.  The melted American cheese almost looked like Whiz, and the Italian bread looked delicious.  As I dove into it, however, the first thing I noticed was how thick the steak was.  While this cut may have been great on top of some pasta or next to some mashed potatoes, it was not meant for a sandwich.  Also, the marinade was a bit much for what is supposed to be a simple sandwich.  The bread, on the other hand, was excellent, and definitely carried the weight as I scarfed it down.

WELL? I’ve had other sandwiches from Joe’s (namely their Chicken Parm), and highly recommend making the stop if you’re ever on Route 9 in Fishkill, NY.  They also have a huge array of hot sauces with inappropriate names, which is always a plus.  But Joe, please stop with the false advertising.  London broil does not belong in a sandwich, and it damn well has no place in a cheesesteak!

NOT A CHEESESTEAK!

GET IT: Let me start off by saying that I think Subway is terrible in general, but I was starving and was outside of one, and the “$5 Footlong” song began playing in my head.  Unfortunately, the “Big Philly Cheesesteak” does not qualify as a $5 footlong, so I ended up paying close to $9 for this piece of crap.  After microwaving the sandwich (what?), the gentleman went down the toppings aisle asking me what else I wanted on it.  I didn’t even bother saying “Wit out,” shook my head in disgust, and paid for my meal.

EAT IT: Their Italian bread is OK for a normal sandwich, but just doesn’t do their rich man’s Steak-Um meat justice.  Said meat looked like it had been sitting on their counter since last week, as well as the provolone cheese I had them put on it.  Now, they did do me the favor of at least asking what I wanted on it, as opposed to other fake cheesesteak places that will simply put onions (I’m a Wit Out guy), peppers (cheesesteaks don’t have peppers, dammit!) and whatever else they find to be “Philly,” without having the decency to ask first.

WELL? All in all, I must say, for all the things they do wrong with it, it’s not terrible, as far as Subway sandwiches go.  But $9?  GTFO!

NOT A CHEESESTEAK!