May 19, 2010

I'm So Confused

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I don't know if it's spring allergy season, but my head has been completely confused lately. The blogging world seems all out of joint to me.

Joe has just come back from vacation and is blogging about half-naked cappuccinos.

Bonnie has given up blogging in English and is just posting in Morse Code, which she claims isn't Morse Code.(No wait, update - she says in her latest post, "Wheeeeeeetweetweetweetweetweet!")

Tillerman is blogging about Lasers, as usual, but why do I have this idea stuck in my head that he's been ranting about wanting a - get this - power boat? I know, I must be losing it.

Meanwhile, over on Edward's blog, there's a picture of SF Bay area sailing superstar Paul Cayard sailing in a Pope hat. That would be strange enough, but I feel like I've actually seen that photo before. How could that be?

Like I say, for me everything is out of joint. There's nothi... wait, did I just say over on Edward's blog? That can't be right. Edward hasn't blogged in... see what I mean? Nothing is making sense this week.

I'm so confused, I'm going to try to get reoriented by returning to basics. I'll write a nice, simple post about sailing. And in the logic of this week, what better sailing topic to blog about than the Philly Cheesesteak?




I'm ashamed to admit it, but the Philadelphia Cheesesteak, as an institution, is something I never really got.

I may have a recessive cheesesteak gene.

But, invariably, when someone hears that you grew up in Philadelphia, they will ask about cheesesteaks. So, I'm always being asked to defend or expound upon the cheesesteak. Somehow though, in a city that is so well known for its diverse ethnic heritage, it is unfortunate that such a meager culinary creation should get so much press.

For me, hoagies had more merit, although I'm not sure I would have the courage to attempt one of those, with everything, today.

In my youth, Pat's Steaks in Sout' Philly was the reigning champion of the Cheesesteak, claiming to have invented the greasy thing. A large neon sign out front - well, two large neon signs actually - modestly proclaimed, "Pat's King of Steaks".



Throughout the neighborhoods of South Philadelphia, various factions favored one rival cheesesteak establishment or another. The preference seemed to be passed down, within families, from one generation to the next, and defending one's familial cheesesteak allegiance became a matter of pride.

As I recall, it was just such internecine differences of opinion that often made life in that part of town so colorful.

Geno's Steaks, just across the street from Pat's, has conducted a typically South Philly 'in your face' rivalry with Pat's for longer than anyone can remember. With each generation, the signs proclaiming supremacy grow larger, more elaborate, and consume more wattage.


But what was all the fuss about? Why the almost religious fervor for the cheesesteak? What exactly was the draw?

Try as I might to unravel those mysteries, to me the cheesesteak has always smacked of hoax.

At its heart, it was always just a cheap cut of almost inedible meat that someone had tried to coax into being a delicacy by slathering with onions and Cheez Whiz and whacking with a spatula to induce a faux tenderness. Many almost pulled off the hoax, but in the end, or certainly by two hours after eating one, the diner was beset with the sad realization that this was no haute cuisine. If he was lucky, that was all he was beset with.

I think Philadelphia clings to the cheesesteak more out of desperation than anything else. The titles to most of the town's claimed culinary originalities have been successfully challenged by other dominions. New York has the bagel, foot-long hot dog, and possibly even Belgian waffles. Soft pretzels probably came from Bavaria. Salt Water Taffy, Atlantic City. Other than scrapple - and who else would bother claiming that - we've got the cheesesteak and that's about it.

Like I say, I was mainly a hoagie guy through most of my formative years, so don't really care too much one way or the other.

As I matured, so did my palate, and I moved on to what I now look back upon fondly as my pastrami years.

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36 comments:

  1. Pastrami is good. With a beer. A cold one.

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  2. I think you just like saying internecine.

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  3. I tried very hard to work ullage into this post, but just couldn't manage it.

    How do you do it?

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  4. I think you just like saying cheesesteak. And scrapple.
    Preferably from the Reading terminal market.

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  5. Baydog, you're right.

    I have always liked the word scrapple, if not the mysterious food product itself.

    I think the product was an early forebear of Spam.

    I also found it difficult buying any food from a market with the word terminal in its name.

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  6. Ahhh memories, I had the occassional Cheese steak from time to time, when I could afford one, it was a treat! Loved it. Would not touch it today!! There is a new "Philly Cheesesteak shop open in Alameda. Sometime I am tempted to go in and ask, what part of Philly? Every part had it's king. In West Philly it was Jim's. Some of the shops even used real cheese! The last time many many many moons ago I had one of the "Philly Cheesesteaks" here in Cal it was sad copy. Like Domino's sadly copies a real Pizza.

    How I also was a hoagie fan and had that more often than a cheesesteak. Mostly a cheese hoagie, it was the cheapest. But still tasted good. Something about the oil, mayo, herbs...

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  7. Funny, Jim's on South Street is the only place in Philadelphia where I've had an authentic cheesesteak. You must admit, the Reading terminal has an amazing market.

    When I was ten and moved from Jenkintown to NJ for good, the kids said, "Hoagie? what's a hoagie!".

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  8. I once sailed a Laser regatta in Philadelphia. And I have trophies on my wall that I won at the "Philadelphia Sailing Championship for Lasers" in 1996 and 2000. But those regattas were NOT sailed in Philadelphia.


    Sorry. Couldn't resist trying to get this discussion off topic into some bizarre unrelated topic like sailing.

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  9. hrnk! hrnk! hrnk!

    (I'm a brant! I'm a brant!)

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  10. I never realized how efficient Brant Geese are - able to speak with no vowels whatsoever.

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  11. There is an excellent sailing club at Brant Beach in NJ.

    Sorry. Couldn't resist trying to get this discussion off topic into some bizarre unrelated topic like sailing.

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  12. Brant Beach, where if you capsize, just stand up! They've got this great sub shop there.

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  13. I wonder if the sub shop has hoagies.

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  14. Boy, it's been a long time since I had scrapple. I like it with ketchup.

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  15. Tillerman, it doesn't surprise me that a 'Philadelphia' regatta wasn't sailed in the city. i can't think of anywhere suitable for a sailing regatta. I wonder if the Delaware is still toxic enough to make a swim a near-death experience. The Schuylkill is probably safer, but wind could be iffy, and currents might be too strong for dinghies.

    I've just discovered that Google Maps has filled in most streets in Philadelphia with 'street view', so I spent a few hours 'driving' around the old neighborhoods. It looks like there is still virtually no good public access to the Delaware waterfront. Mountains of fences and concrete seem to barricade most of it.

    It looks like there's almost no recreational boating, despite the fact that most commercial piers have either been shut down or removed. What a tragic loss for a city that grew up around its waterfront.

    PS: Acid test for Philadelphia nativocity - spell Schuylkill without googling.

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  16. Skookle. Sailing on it is not worth it.

    Another scrapple fan!

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  17. Actually I did sail a Laser regatta in downtown Philadelphia on the Delaware (although this was not the "Philadelphia Sailing Championship" where I won the trophies.)

    There was, and still is, a Philadelphia Laser fleet that races on the Delaware River in the center of the city. They keep their boats at the Philadelphia Pier 3 Marina, (adjacent to La Veranda Restaurant.) I don't think they still run open regattas but they did for several years in the early 90's. It was a surreal experience racing in front of the downtown skyscrapers in light winds on a fast ebb tide. I vividly recall short-tacking up the shore, in and out of docks and piers to get out of the tide, and as I rounded the windward mark with other leaders I looked back at the start line (in mid-river) and some boats still hadn't yet crossed the line in the unfavorable current. The regatta party and prize-giving was at some night club near the pier.

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  18. Tillerman: So much sailing in MY backyard! If you ever attend another regatta in Brant Beach, would you please let me know? I will run aground at the finish and act as your mother-ship, supplying you with uncrustables and chardonnay. And scrapple sandwiches with ketchup.

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  19. BTW: La Veranda serves a mean calves' liver with, what else, bacon and onions. And also fava beans and a nice Chianti.

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  20. hola....tuesday is usually a long day for me because from the office at yacht sales central I go directly to my pottery class and stay there until 2100. we normally go for drinks after class so I do not eat between noon and 2130 or so. lunch on tuesdays is very important. I favor a cuban sandwich with the works and extra cheese as my tuesday lunch but...at the cafe next to the office, aptly named yacht sales cafe, they make a great philly cheese steak sandwich..cheddar cheese, peppers, onions, mushroom, etc. It is a meal, add chips and a tall root bear and follow it with a chocolate bar and life is good. bon appetite

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  21. Baydog, I am amazed that there is a restaurant in the US that serves liver, bacon and onions. I thought that was a uniquely English delicacy.

    When I lived in NJ, Brant Beach was on of my favorite places to attend regattas. They really have their act together and know how to put on a good show. It's entirely possible that next time they run another major Laser event I might well drive down to it.

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  22. Just one more thing I love about the English.

    Brant Beach is a first rate club; very family-oriented and extremely well run. My honor would be to meet up with you there, mein Tillermeister.

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  23. Antolin, your Cuban sounds much like my hoagie - a regional name for what is more widely known as a submarine sandwich - or 'sub' throughout most of the states.

    Prosciutto, by any other name, would smell as sweet.

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  24. How often does your grinder eat a hoagie?

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  25. Never.

    But my hero ate a po' boy.

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  26. I feel like I'm getting wedged in. Andouille used to be such good friends. Sorry, I'm still guffawing at that one Tillerman.
    O Docker, I think you have a serious future in food blogging. Next post, you can travel outside of Philadelphia, and go to Lancaster County. There you will find the quintessential "cup cheese", and "wet bottom" shoo-fly
    pie. Just be careful around the road apples.

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  27. In Hudson County, prosciutto is pronounced, "pizoot". Also, there's gobbagool, supazot, and gavadeel.

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  28. The commenter that wouldn't go away. I believe the Cuban is on Cuban bread with ham, swiss-like cheese, roast pork, and sliced pickles. Then they pannini press it, so to speak, till it's crusty on the outside and melty inside. I'm starving again. Food blog!

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  29. Baydog, I hope there's nothing too serious in my future.

    If this blog works out, I'm thinking of starting one about sailing.

    As it happens, I was familiar with pizoot and gobbagool long before I moved to New Jersey. There are fundamental cultural similarities between Hudson County and certain Philadelphia neighborhoods.

    They are both part of a world wide web that predates the internet by many years.

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  30. And stone tablets as well

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  31. I hear "brujoot" at deli counters counters in NYC sometimes.

    Never "scrapple" though. Go figyah.

    PS...hm, wonder if liver bacon & onions could be the key to getting Tillerman to come to the Sebago regatta.

    Or maybe we just have to schedule ours on the other day of a weekend when Brant Beach (hrnk hrnk) & then he can have a good tri-state double-header. I'll bring the mushy peas.

    I need to go look up "ullage" now. It's everywhere all the sudden.

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  32. Bonnie: I'll do whatever humanly possible to make this happen.

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  33. You're right. Ullage is everywhere.

    Even ChrisP is joining in.

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  34. "Ullagone! Ullagone!!!" cried Padraigh. "It's all gone to ullage; the beloved stout t'is all gone. Aye, tis the fault o' that ullage o' crew, may Mary an' the dear Patrick an' all the angels turn their faces away from the pickled sods. Ullagone! Ullagone!!!"

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  35. We seem to have wandered into another Philadelphia neighborhood.

    There are a thousand stories in the naked city.

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