When I read Kaitlin Steinberg's recent experience trying a philly cheesesteak for the first time, my first thought was, "Hot damn! It's been years since I've had a good cheesesteak."
Well, in all honesty, my first admittedly snarky thought actually related to her dining companion's ridiculous proscription, 'you can't get a Philly with white cheese' (um, have you been to Philadelphia and observed the many accepted renditions of its namesake meat sandwich?). But commenters have lambasted this poor fellow enough already.
Readers of this blog are probably aware that I grew up in Pennsylvania, hence why its foodstuffs and culinary traditions are so often the subjects of my posts. As a child, I had cheesesteaks of various types during my family's regular weekend "educational" trips to Philly, which were ostensibly designed to make me and my siblings more learned about the American Revolution but in fact ended up being more about eating junk food and binge-shopping at gift shops.
Although the general consensus among Houston foodies seems to be that Papa Geno's serves up the best cheesesteaks in town, for the sake of variety, I decided to try the version on offer at Jersey Mike's Subs because some had given it good reviews. (And, yes, I aware of the irony of seeking out a Pennsylvania sub from a New Jersey establishment.)
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