Best of Philly 2005: Cheesesteak Nation

Day 5
Los Angeles
The decorative motif inside South Street, a cheesesteak joint in Westwood, is zealously black and red. A list of famous Philadelphians, most of whom aren’t that famous (Minnesota Timberwolf Eddie Griffin), graces one wall, and tables are découpaged with the front pages of Philly newspapers touting events in local history. All this imposed Philly-ness only serves to impart a sense of trying way too hard—a feeling that extends to the menu. Not only does South Street serve cheesesteaks, for instance; it also offers Hank’s sodas and water ice. The cheesesteaks here aren’t bad. Everything certainly looks good. But they’re nothing special, either, and it’s hard not to wonder if the owners shouldn’t have focused more on quality than all the Philly bona fides.

The O.C.
Philly’s Best now has more than a dozen locations around Southern California (but is no relation to Chicago’s Philly’s Best). I decide to go to the original, located in a strip mall — naturally — in Orange County’s Fountain Valley. Like South Street in L.A., Philly’s Best makes a conspicuous effort to flaunt its authenticity. The menu notes that the shop serves “the only steak sandwich that consists of all ingredients from Philadelphia.” Okay. But authenticity is more than the sum of its parts. And like a vintage car that hasn’t been properly maintained, Philly’s Best cheese-steaks could use a tune-up. The meat is bland, and the cheese/onion balance is way off. Perhaps this is to be expected. Philly’s Best is, after all, a chain, and it seems there is a lesson here. You can have all the “ingredients from Philadelphia” you want, but it’s not going to matter much without a little cheesesteak TLC.