The story behind the Philly cheesesteak

This snack of chopped beef and cheese in a long roll is a Philadelphia culinary icon that can trace its origins back to a humble hot dog cart

Meat being loaded into a hot dog bun with stringy cheese over a grill
A basic concoction of meat, onions, cheese and a bread roll, the Philadelphia cheesesteak dates back to 1930.
Photograph by Getty Images
ByTom Burson
October 10, 2024
This article was produced by National Geographic Traveller (UK).

Scorching hot beef and melty cheese in a long, flaky roll and tossed ‘wit’ or ‘witout’… Of all Philadelphia has given to the world (including Rocky and American democracy), the cheesesteak has persevered as a symbol of the City of Brotherly Love.

Origins

The cheesesteak originates from a boredom with hot dogs rather than some great culinary revelation. Back in 1930, Italian-American Pat Olivieri had a hot-dog cart in South Philly. One afternoon, Pat was in the mood for something a little different. He called up his brother Harry to go to their butcher and order some scraps of beef instead of the usual wiener sausages. Pat grilled up the beef with some onions at his cart and scooped it into a hot-dog bun. A passing cabdriver was intrigued and asked for the same thing. According to Pat’s King of Steaks (now a full-blown restaurant, as well as a food truck for hire), after eating the sandwich, the driver said, “Hey… forget ’bout those hot dogs, you should sell these.” And so, the first cheesesteak was born. But was it? Where was the cheese?

It took another decade for dairy to make its way onto the sandwich. ‘Cocky Joe’ Lorenza, the manager of Pat’s restaurant, added some slices of provolone, thus birthing what’s much more recognisable as the cheesesteak. It caught on like wildfire.

In the mid-1960s, the sandwich had really come into its own, with another restaurant, Geno’s, opening right across the street from Pat’s, and numerous other establishments launching. Dalessandro’s Steaks opened in North Philly — and still attracts huge crowds today — while Jim’s Steaks had become the place to go in West Philly. In Old City, meanwhile, Campo’s Philly Cheesesteaks was the fan favourite.

By the 1970s, rivalries over the ‘best cheesesteak’ had taken hold. Maury Z Levy, editor of Philadelphia magazine from 1970 to 1980, remembers that the publication’s annual cheesesteak award was one of the things that Philadelphians got most upset about. ‘You rarely heard, “That was a great pick,”’ Maury told Philadelphia earlier this year. ‘You heard, “Are you guys out of your fucking minds?”’

Nowadays, the cheesesteak has spread far beyond the original cart’s location on Passyunk Avenue. Fine-dining restaurants serve kobe and wagyu beef cheesesteaks, and versions enhanced with truffle. There are Buffalo chicken cheesesteaks, cheesesteaks as long as your arm, vegan cheesesteaks and even cheesesteak lettuce wraps — much to the chagrin of purists.

Half eaten beef sandwich in a long sandwich roll on a piece of paper
Whiz is one of the most popular types of melted cheese used within the sandwich, spread across a freshly baked torpedo roll.
Photograph by Sergio Amiti, Getty Images

How it’s made

The basics — meat, onions, roll — hardly vary from shop to shop, but the contentious debates revolve around nuances. Is sliced beef better than chopped? Does it need onions? What about the cheese? Provolone? Cheez Whiz (liquid cheese)? American cheese, perhaps?

At its core, though, the recipe is simple. Chop or slice the beef — ideally ribeye — and sauté on a slightly oiled grill. Salt and pepper are standard seasonings. Ordering a cheesesteak ‘wit’ means with onions, fried on the same grill; however, it’s also perfectly acceptable to order ‘witout’. The bread needs to be a freshly baked torpedo roll, the crust firm but not crunchy and the inside soft.

When it comes to the melted cheese, Whiz, American and provolone are the most common options, although cheddar has recently started gaining a foothold. Provolone may be the original, but, according to Frank Olivieri, current owner of Pat’s King of Steaks, Whiz “melts all inside the nooks and crannies of the bread”. This of course makes it more difficult to eat.

No matter how you prefer your cheesesteak, have napkins ready and perfect the ‘South Philly lean’, which is the act of holding your sandwich in front of you while leaning forward so the meat and cheese don’t drop onto your shirt.

Exterior of a blue cafe with wooden picnic tables outside
John's Roast Pork serve eight varieties of their speciality cheesesteaks, featuring additions of bacon, mushroom and sweet pepper.
Photograph by Yarvin Pennsylvania Journeys, Alamy

Where to try it

1. John’s Roast Pork
This place may have got its start in 1930 mastering a different type of sandwich (the roast pork), but it’s since perfected the cheesesteak. It’s heavy on the seasoned beef and cooked to order — that means no pile of steamed meat. For cheese, the star is a sharp provolone.

2. Angelo’s
You’ll see the queue for this tiny, cash-only pizzeria well before you see the shop. And that’s for good reason. Angelo’s has perfected not only pizza but also the cheesesteak. The homemade bread is a hit, and staff are flexible when it comes to toppings, whether you want sharp cheddar, provolone or Whiz, in addition to substituting chicken in place of beef.

3. Woodrow’s
This simple sandwich shop on South Street dresses up the traditional cheesesteak with a bit of glitz. Its beloved ‘Whiz Wit’ rendition uses shaved rib-eye and a house-made truffle Cheez Whiz before topping it off with a slightly controversial sweet-spicy cherry-pepper mayo that may make some traditionalists scoff — until they tuck in.

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