For whatever reason I've become less and less enthralled with either cooking or eating "fussy" food and increasingly intrigued with authentic local and ethnic foods and the idea of comparing and critiquing different renditions of them. As an ex-NYer, this is probably innate - I'm capable of analyzing a pastrami sandwich or slice of pizza with the detail and critical, detached mien of a medical examiner and arguing the relative merits of different versions like a trial lawyer. As a current Washingtonian, there's not really a"local" food to apply this skill to. Maybe a crab cake, but that really belongs to the PROM (Peoples Republic of Maryland). So I’m turning to other regions. This is somewhat tricky since I can’t say what’s actually authentic in places I haven’t lived – but I can say what’s good.Item 1: the Philly cheesesteak. This is an interesting one because quality ingredients are anathema - authenticity apparently demands cheap cuts of beef and Cheese Whiz. And there doesn’t seem to be a whole lot of potential variation in the cooking process. Whatever. The debate in Philly about where to get the best is heated, and lines form around the block of the most popular purveyors – the most renowned of which are Pats and Genos. Now, as you’ll often find with places that become icons, many critical locals deride both of them as tourist traps. However, that’s part of the point here. If I lived in Philly I’d immediately embark on a quest for the best – but as a tourist searching for authenticity these seemed like the must-try places. And, conveniently located across the block from each other, they’re perfect for a taste-off.
At 5:30 on a Saturday afternoon, both had fair sized but not terribly daunting lines. Pats line seemed shorter, but the wait ended up far longer. The Geno’s sandwich ordered wiz wit came just that way, cheese whiz and onions. At Pats apparently mushrooms are also an option (my wife did the ordering there) and that one came with whiz, mushrooms and onions.
The Geno’s sandwich came on a soft roll with no real texture to the crust but a nice taste to the bread and interesting overall soft but chewy texture. The Pats roll had a relatively firm crust and with an airy interior, and was devoid of taste. Sort of like Styrofoam with a thin layer of cardboard on top.
The meat in the Geno’s sandwich was quite tender. No knives were available to slice the thing in two for taste testing, but between the plastic fork and pulling it apart it was doable. The meat in the Pats sandwich was tough and elastic. While the bread separated easily, the plastic fork was no match for the rubbery meat which was also impervious to separation by pulling. I honestly don’t know what texture you’re striving for in a perfect authentic cheesesteak but I doubt it’s akin to rubber Kevlar which is what the Pats steak was like.
Taste-wise, I don’ know if or how they season the meat at Genos, but it tasted wonderfully beefy and well-seasoned, if not by application of spices than by contact with the grill. The Pats beef was stunningly devoid of taste – nothing more than a tough vehicle for the whiz, onions and mushrooms; somehow the veggies were also relatively tasteless, unlike the Geno’s onions which were wonderfully sweet and rich without any burnt notes that you can get when frying onions.
The verdict? No contest. While it’s a greasy nutritional nightmare made with crap ingredients, the Geno’s sandwich made it easy to see why locals wax poetic about Philly cheesesteaks and line up for a block to get one after a night of drinking – while I was stone sober, I know I’d love one of these things at 2AM. The Pats sandwich, on the other hand, was so lame it was like a play for the AMA or Self magazine - no reason to risk cardiac arrest or sacrifice your diet because a plate of salted tofu and lettuce would be every bit as tasty.
