The Cheesesteak Truck will be serving daily in the parking lot until the restaurant opens. The obvious answer is yes. Meat, cheese, roll…pretty straightforward. But isn’t that selling it short? First, the cheesesteak is more of an experience than a meal. The rhythmic chop-chop of the spatula, the thick aroma of onions grilling, the clamor of folks with mouths watering. And then the ride—that thrill of the first bite, and eventually the satisfied acceptance of the last. It’s just different with a burger or a hoagie or a reuben or a BLT. They’re all good, but…different. The cheesesteak is a treat. A bit of an indulgence. And for some, a ritual—a tried-and-true feast that says, “Game on!”
The cheesesteak’s an attitude. In-your-face—literally and figuratively. And it’s personal—inspiring endless dialogue and debate. Whiz versus American. “Mustard, are you kiddin’?” And, “Yeah, I’m gonna finish it!”
Yes, the cheesesteak is an institution. A cultural obsession whose popularity keeps climbing. And since day one, the identity of the cheesesteak has been exclusively and undeniably linked to a single point of origin: the city of Philadelphia. You better believe Original Philly was consulted when the author was writing this amazing book! Perhaps more than any other, this pair of specialty food and hometown is married to one another. The cheesesteak has become a symbol of this soulful town—as synonymous with Philly as that celebrated bell or a certain hometown-hero boxer. New York has hot dogs—but aren’t frankfurters originally from Germany? Okay, then New York is pizza, right? Well Chicago might have something to say about that. How about Boston clam chowdah? Nawlins’ gumbo? Or Texas barbecue? All good, but no comparison. So is the cheesesteak a sandwich? Well, is the Super Bowl a game? Is Independence Hall a building?
