Best of Philly 2005: Cheesesteak Nation

Day 6
Tampa
For whatever reason, the Florida Gulf Coast is the center of the Philly cheese-steak diaspora, with countless places in and around Tampa offering our hometown specialty. The biggest is Westshore Pizza, which now has more than 50 franchises in the area. The Westshore restaurants are clean, if you care about that sort of thing, but the cheesesteak turns out to be only slightly better than mediocre, which, come to think of it, pretty much describes Florida.

Pinellas Park
Pinellas Park is near Clearwater, where the Phillies conduct spring training, so it stands to reason you’d find a decent cheesesteak. But the Colonial Corner is more than decent. True, from the outside, the place looks like a dump. The “Yes, We’re Open” sign hangs askew. Inside, there’s an embroidered sign that says. “Bless this mess,” and another on the refrigerator behind the counter that reads, “This is not Burger King. You do not get it your way.” The crowd is another clue. There are monstrous, tattooed construction workers sitting alongside CPAs from the office park down the road. These guys—and they are all guys—are onto something. The Colonial Corner cheesesteak is pretty much perfection. The bread is soft but not soggy, the meat is flavorful, the cheese is perfectly melted. The key, says owner Joann Casciato, who grew up in Philadelphia, where her grandfather and father both owned sandwich shops, is Colonial Corner’s meat, which is rib eye imported from Texas, and the rolls, which are made fresh each day by a local baker according to Joann’s own recipe. Colonial Corner is so good that even after eating cheesesteaks three times a day for five days, I could easily have had a second. In fact, over the next day-and-a-half, I experience something akin to a post-­Colonial Corner eating disorder. Though I visit three more places — in Port Richey, in Largo, and in Port Charlotte — everything is anticlimactic. All I want is to go back to Colonial Corner. In my book, it’s better than nine out of 10 places in Philly.

That shouldn’t be surprising. Indeed, the only surprise is that there aren’t more sandwiches as good as Colonial Corner’s out there (though Milwaukee’s Philly Way’s is a close second). Despite many claims otherwise, making a really good cheesesteak is not curing cancer. The problem, it seems, is that cheesesteak places around the country aren’t really interested in making a great sandwich; they’re concerned, often obsessed, with authenticity—with making sure their offerings look, feel, and smell like South Philly’s. That’s fine and good, up to a point. But does obsession impinge on quality? Can a focus on having sandwiches be authentic get in the way of their being, well, great?

That’s what I was pondering on my flight home when a college kid who was also headed back to Philly sat next to me. Halfway through the trip, when a flight attendant asked him if he wanted something to eat, he said no. He wanted to save room. “The first thing I’m going to do when I get back is get a Wawa hoagie,” he said. “Or maybe some pizza, or a cheesesteak.” As I sat silent, he turned to the woman in the window seat. “You can’t get them around here, you know.”