A Tale of Two Cheesesteaks

Admittedly, I have been anticipating this entry for quite a while. From the second my plane landed on American soil in December, I looked forward to the day when my comparative cheesesteak article would come to fruition. And now, at long last, that day has arrived.

I had just returned home from the completion of my junior year at Emory (and awaiting my status as an indentured servant--er--summer investment banking analyst), when I felt a hankering for a cheesesteak that I couldn't ignore. All too coincidentally, I had an out-of-town visitor who also wanted an authentic Philly cheesesteak, so the two of us followed our cravings to a street corner on Henry Avenue. On any other normal afternoon, I would have been forced to make a critical choice: Chubby's or Dalessandro's? But this was no normal afternoon...

I have eaten at each of these down-and-dirty cheesesteak joints on separate occasions, but have never had the opportunity to compare the two and declare my preference (something that by now you must realize is essential to the way I operate). My ambivalence was put to rest, however, on this one fateful Wednesday.

Chubby's and Dalessandro's are situated across the street from one another on a busy intersection in a borough of Philadelphia. They are two of the lesser-known, hidden gems of the city. Most tourists (and even a few ignorant Philadelphians) cite Jim's, Pat's, or Geno's as their "favorite" spot for cheesesteaks. Just to give you a bit of background, there are two ways a cheesesteak is prepared - with shaved meat and melted cheese, or with slabs of meat and Whiz. I prefer the former, as Whiz gives a cheesesteak a slightly synthetic touch. Thus, by my standards, we can eliminate Pat's from the running. Jim's is good, but they tend to skimp you on the meat, and I've never eaten at Geno's (shhh), so I can't judge just yet. But let it be known, you don't have to travel to the infamous South Street to get a good cheesesteak.



It is for obvious locational reasons that Chubby's and Dalessandro's withhold a traditional rivalry. And so I had to be strategic about my game plan. If I were to eat both cheesesteaks at once, that meant that I could only be in one restaurant. After some debate, I decided to park at Chubby's and get a cheesesteak to go, then make my way over to Dalessandro's, where I could sample both at the same time. I was discreet about my mission, however, as I recognized it was somewhat of a foodie faux-pas. These establishments are no-nonsense, so you can imagine the kind of glances I would get if I were caught smuggling an outsider into either one. And the waitress at Dalessandro's was neither inviting nor polished, when she bid farewell to some regulars by saying, "See yas later" (probably not the best place to sport my Burberry raincoat). Thus, I proceeded with caution.



My friend and I went halfsies, which is probably my favorite way to eat any type of food. My first bite came from the Chubby's cheesesteak.



Parts of the meat were slightly overcooked, and the onions and peppers could have been more thoroughly intertwined with the meat, but it was solid overall. Definitely better than your average cheesesteak. Come to think of it, when my post-prom fell through in May 2007, our party bus changed course to Chubby's. An authentic Philadelphian after-prom, indeed.

I have to give Chubby's some credit, because the steak had been sitting out for about ten minutes before I had the opportunity to sink my teeth into it, as I had been waiting patiently at Dalessandro's. However, my second bite, which came from the Dalessandro's steak, beat Chubby's ten-to-one. This one had more meat, an even spread of cheese and onions, and the restaurant had containers of do-it-yourself shredded assorted peppers that I probably could have eaten plain. And I couldn't help but notice all of the "Zagat-rated" signs on the wall...I was in primal heaven.



I suppose it was beneficial, after all, to have been in Dalessandro's for my moment of truth, otherwise I may have upset some very seriously overweight employees (welcome to Philadelphia). My guest and I both agreed that Dalessandro's had the superior steak.

As most of you are aware, Manhattan is one of my favorite places on earth, and where I'll be spending my summer, but the one thing it lacks is a decent cheesesteak. Sorry, but that bullshit 99 Miles to Philly doesn't quite cut it. New York City will be perfect when Dalessandro's allows me to pioneer its franchise, but even I wouldn't trust myself to uphold its strict standard of abrasiveness and poor grammar/dental hygiene (just picture some of the mouths in Dalessandro's). Until its expansion, however, I'll just have to remain content with venturing to Roxborough. Because after all, who doesn't love a good piece of meat?

Dine at Dalessandro's:
600 Wendover Street
Philadelphia, PA 19128
(215) 482 - 5407

And, if you're up for my cheesesteak challenge,

Dine at Chubby's:
5826 Henry Avenue
Philadelphia, PA 19128
(215) 487 - 2575

Back from the Crypt

Hello to each of my fabulous foodie friends. It's been quite a while since I've updated La Flavoriser, but don't fret - my hiatus was only temporary. I've been back in the United States for slightly over a week and I must say, my European days seem unfortunately more distant as time passes. I'm back, however, and ready for some R, R, &R; Rest, relaxation, and restaurants. While I would love to feast upon French fare and bask in the nostalgia that would logically follow, I know that any French restaurant in the Philadelphia Metropolitan area would only be a let-down. I'll have to settle for something that is actually damn good, even off of route 76 West; Bluefin.

Bluefin is a shopping center BYOB sushi joint. From the outside, it doesn't look like much. Even from the inside, it still doesn't look like much. And then the food arrives - flavorgasm. But there's still so much more to Bluefin that makes it one of my favorite local spots. First, it's a definite hierarchy. The "regulars," (my parents included) get treated like royalty. My family walked into the restaurant and was greeted with a friendly, "Hoyyyy," which was all too familiar. At one point in our meal our table was visited by an Asian woman who is apparently the head chef/owner's sister. I didn't know her name, social security number, or credit score, but I did know she was glad but not surprised to see my family on a Wednesday evening. And yes, like most other days at Bluefin, we secured our reservation well in advance. The most frequent visitors have the opportunity to name their own maki rolls -- an ultimate status symbol for the greater Main Line area. I won't blow up anyone's spot, but if you dine at Bluefin, you'll begin to know these families by both name and fish. Everyone within 20 miles of Philadelphia's city center has heard of Bluefin - it's practically legendary among Jews and Gentiles alike.

In Paris, sushi was an extremity. I either ordered below-mediocre sushi delivery, or was forced to pay outrageous prices for poissons frais. In lieu of this harsh reality, it has been almost five months since I've eaten great sushi. Surely you realize, as I do, that this is nothing short of a cuisine crime. There are few things in life I enjoy more than the consistency of raw fish against my taste buds.

I wasn't starving (crazy, I know), so I decided upon an appetizer and a maki roll. I began with an order of shrimp shumai. Call me "safe" and "boring," but I was reminded of what I'd been missing the minute my teeth sunk into the piping shrimp dumpling. This was the start of something good, don't you agree?

Following the shrimp shumai came the Marlee Roll, probably named after some elitist Philadelphia family who's spent an overwhelming proportion of its disposable income on sushi. The Marlee Roll was comprised of tuna on top of a crunchy spicy yellowtail roll with roe. I ordered the roll without "crunchies," as my mother has been pressuring me to eat healthier. I'm sure this made quite the difference. The fish was indescribably fresh, and the roll came with enough spicy mayo and wasabi (I'm a spice fiend) to keep my tongue tingling. The roe was red and green (Merry Christmas?). You really must dine at Bluefin to understand; out of the myriad of sushi restaurants I've frequented in NYC and other reputable locations, Bluefin keeps me coming back.

I'm still unaware of the status of Bluefin's dessert menu, or if there's even one at all, but at the conclusion of each of my Bluefin meals I've been presented with a plate of fried banana with honey, orange slices, and honeydew. The honeydew I could have done without, the orange was secondary, but the banana was the icing on the sushi cake. That sounds foul, but try and picture the metaphor instead of the literal translation. And it worked out perfectly - my mother was sitting across from me, and, as you may recall from earlier posts, she's not usually inclined to eat. This left me with more banana than usual - a situation I was pleased to embrace.

After my exquisite sushi dinner and a few glasses of my mother's 2008 Cakebread Chardonnay, ("very expensive," she claims), I was floating above the clouds. I recommend Bluefin to anyone even remotely close to the Philadelphia area looking for quality sushi in a relaxed setting. The décor isn't spectacular, nor is the service (unless you dine there weekly), but it's consistently delicious and serves the freshest fish in town. No doubt I'll be dining here several more times before my much anticipated return to Atlanta, and, if I'm lucky, I'll earn the rights to a Flavoriser Roll. Contact me with any creative maki suggestions. Happy New Year!

Dine at Bluefin:

1017 East Germantown Pike

Plymouth Meeting, PA 19462

(610) 277 - 3917