The Angelo’s Line: A Study in Cheesesteak Devotion (and Patience)

The line at Angelo’s in South Philly / Photograph by Gene Smirnov

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Angelo’s opened in 2019, and since then the line has had a life of its own. It snakes out of the tiny storefront and goes up 9th Street. It winds around the corner onto Fitzwater. It breaks up into knots of people who lean against street signs and sit on stoops to rest their legs, even though a sign taped to Angelo’s door asks them explicitly not to do that very thing. Sometimes the line is directed by an employee to change directions, to twist the other way, down to Catharine. But no matter which direction it’s heading, if Angelo’s is open — which it is from 11 a.m. to 7 p.m. every day except Monday and Tuesday — the line is most likely there.

On one sunny Sunday in late February, at exactly 10:15 in the morning, John and Alyssa Pensmith from Maryland become the first two people to get in line. They’re first-timers, in town for the weekend and at Angelo’s because of Portnoy’s thumbs-up. Matthew Oberholtzer, third in line, is up from Atlanta. He’s been here a few times before, but only managed to get a cheesesteak once. (Angelo’s is also famous for selling out of cheese-steaks on very busy days. Once the crackly house-made bread’s gone, so are the sandwiches.)

A guy named Nathaniel — by 10:45, he’s 37th in line — has struck out before too. He made the cheesesteak pilgrimage from Reading: “I’ve tried to get here for the last two years, and every time I’ve been too late and I couldn’t get a damn cheesesteak.” Karl Tyler from Southwest Philly (sixth in line) could’ve saved Nathaniel the headache: “This is the perfect time to come, before the doors open,” he says. “Anything else and the line will be wrapped around the block.”

Lena, a Canadian based in Amsterdam and in town for work, doesn’t even know why she’s in line. “I’ve never heard of this place before in my life. I saw a line and figured that if there’s a line before something’s opening, it must be good, right? So I hopped in.” Lena is number 16, and she has befriended the person behind her, Laura from New Orleans, also in town for work. But among these tourists and weekenders are those who, like Karl, know the drill: You wait in line to order (this moves rather quickly), and then you wait for a text that your food is ready. Logan (number 26) made the trip today from Delaware; last week he waited in his car for an hour and a half for the text that his cheesesteak was up. These wait times aren’t for lack of organization: Inside Angelo’s, things run with military-like efficiency.

About 40 minutes later, Lena has gotten her cheesesteak — Cooper Sharp with fried onions. She eats it outside, as many people do, especially when it’s warm. She’s not as bemused by this bizarre turn of events — that she, a woman who lives in Amsterdam, somehow happens to be here today, at this corner in South Philly, eating this famous cheesesteak, being interviewed for this story — as she is by the sheer size of the sandwich. “This is way too much food for one person,” she says as she chews, holding it aloft — a foot long and piled high with meat. She definitely won’t be finishing it before her flight home later.

But her final verdict? Worth the wait.

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Published as “Worth the Wait” in the April 2025 issue of Philadelphia magazine.