Best Bite: August 2024
Cheesesteak with a side of nostalgia.
I don’t eat a lot of cheesesteaks these days, which is probably why, when I had one in August for the first time in a few years, it was—dare I say—divine.
It’s not like I ever really ate A LOT of cheesesteaks, but when I was in college in Philadelphia, the possibility of a cheesesteak was always on the table. On those nights when Allegro pizza or a Jimmy John’s sub simply wouldn’t cut it, I remember trekking downtown to Pat’s, Geno’s, or (my favorite) Jim’s for a post-late night delight.
I’m ashamed to say this, but it’s possible that I haven’t had a cheesesteak since graduating from college. MAYBE I just haven’t had a memorable cheesesteak??? Either way, I think I forgot how much a good cheesesteak can HIT. But I was reminded of that fact a few weeks ago, when I stopped at White House Subs on the way back from a weekend down the shore.
Even though both my mom and my cousin Justin told me that the cheesesteaks at White House were amazing, I was a little skeptical. This place is in Jersey—Atlantic City, to be exact—which sounded a bit like getting deep dish pizza in Wisconsin. But I had cheesesteak on the brain, and I made my friends go with me, so when I got up to the front of the line, I confidently ordered my cheesesteak how I always do: Whiz wit. (If you don’t know, that’s Cheez Whiz, the bright orange processed cheese spread that tastes better than heaven, plus onions. “Wit” means with onions. “Witout,” naturally, means without onions.)
The guy behind the counter, talking a mile a minute in an accent dripping with strong vowels and a long o, gave me terrible news: They didn’t have Cheez Whiz. In fact, they seemed to look down upon the very mention of Cheez Whiz. (Rude.) They had provolone and American. I asked which he liked better, he said provolone, so provolone was what I (begrudgingly) got.
Provolone has never been my cheese of choice, and I was worried that the sandwich was going to come topped with rubbery, circular slices that were more stringy than gooey. But oh how wrong I was. Not only was the cheese melty, it was also rich and creamy, with the thick, buttery consistency of a roux.
Although the cheese was better than expected, what made the sandwich as a whole stand out for me wasn’t the provolone or the bread or even the meat. It was the ONIONS. White House called them fried, I’d call them caramelized. Either way, they were browned on the griddle, not just sautéed. They were soft, not crunchy. And they were a little sweet—an incredible touch.
It wasn’t Philly, but with that first bite, I was back in college. And now I can’t remember why it took me so long so get my hands on a cheesesteak.
Dreaming about the peanut butter ice cream with hot fudge!!!!! 🧡
Now we need a make at home version….although might be grossed out by the process 💕