PHILADELPHIA? THE "CITY OF BROTHERLY LOVE?"
Hi folks, I'm so glad you tuned in once again to the tomfoolery and inanity that is The Chef G. Cooking Channel. I'm your host, Chef G., the most humble and loveable celebrity chef of all.
The idea for the dish I'll be making in this episode came to me when I was looking at about a half-pound of leftover steak in my refrigerator. I grilled a big sirloin for Mrs. Chef G. and me last night and there was no way we could finish it. I struggled over what to do with the steak for several minutes until I remembered something posted on Facebook by my niece. It was in praise of a Denver version of a Philadelphia cheese steak sandwich . . . "wit whiz," meaning it contained Cheez-Whiz. I was disgusted and intrigued at the same time.
I've never never made a Philly Cheese Steak Sandwich before but I'm pretty sure I can do it because I am, after all, a major internet top chef. As such, I had a little work to do. Most viewers don't realize that us celebrity cooks have hundreds two or three behind-the-scenes jobs. One of them is research.
After my usual five minutes of research, I came to learn that no matter how exacting one is in one's attempt to create an authentic Philly Cheese Steak Sandwich, there will always be some die-hard Philadelphian who will show up to critique the hell out of it. He'll scrutinize the sandwich down to the finest detail and, if you're lucky, he'll grudgingly admit "sure, your cheese steak sandwich is okay but still, it's just a cheese steak sandwich--not a PHILLY cheese steak sandwich." Then he will go on to nitpick on any insignificant difference he can find, such as your steak being sliced a fraction of a millimeter too thick. Or the hoagie roll wasn't crunchy enough on the outside or soft enough on the inside. Or the proportion of onions to bell peppers wasn't correct. Or the cheese wasn't melted into the meat just right. Or the oil you used to saute the mixture was too clean (meaning, I guess, that it didn't drip off the forehead of Philadelphia's favorite son, Rocky Balboa.)
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The secret grease used to fry authentic Philly Cheese Steak ingredients.
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Then comes the ultimate insult--the one the Philadelphian has been waiting to sling at you all along: "Calling your cheese steak a 'PHILLY cheese steak' is like calling a pizza from Domino's an 'ITALIAN pizza.'"
OUCH! Where's the brotherly love in that? Never mind that even among the famous cheese steak vendors in Philadelphia itself there are differences in their recipes. That fact doesn't matter to people from eastern Pennsylvania though. No, it's as if they cannot accept the idea that a Philly Cheese Steak Sandwich could possibly be made anywhere else. I don't think I've ever heard such snobbery outside of the French Champagne industry.
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The City of Philadelphia is so serious about its cheese steaks
that it created an official logo for them.
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With that Philly-centrism in mind, I refuse to get into a major controversy with Philadelphia or any of it's food critic wannabes. In deference to Philadelphians everywhere, I am not even going to suggest that my new recipe is in any way related to a PHILLY cheese steak. I will be making my own version and I'll be calling it a "Midwest Goodly Cheese Steak Sandwich." And boy, will those Phillyheads be disappointed when every restaurant, deli, and greasy spoon in the U.S. starts offering Midwest Goodly Cheese Steaks instead of Philly Cheese Steaks.
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I figured I'd better create my own logo if I am to have
any chance of competing with Philadelphia.
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Here is an on-line photo of the two most iconic Philly Cheese Steak vendors in all of Philly.
I feel bad about possibly putting them out of business with my Midwest Goodly Cheese Steaks. |
IT'S TIME TO MAKE A SUPER-DELICIOUS MID-WEST GOODLY CHEESE STEAK SANDWICH (And To Explain How It Differs From The Philadelphia Version)
As I said, this is NOT a PHILLY recipe; it's a Mid-western recipe. Yet, for some reason I wanted to get the "-ly" ending in there. Philly did a good job on that. I just needed to find just the RIGHT word ending in "-ly."
Once again, I was saved by a remembrance. A few years ago I got an e-mail from the prince of a foreign country. I can't remember if it was a Ugandan Prince or a Nigerian Prince, but I do remember the stressed-out guy was from Africa and he was in dire straits. For some unexplained reason, his home country wouldn't let him transfer his $3,000,000 fortune to the U.S. So he asked me for a favor because, in his words, he considered me to be a "goodly person."
He offered me a 10% share of his 3-million dollar fortune, and all I had to do was provide my bank account number. Then he would deposit all the money into my account for safekeeping until he arrived into my "great country." Once he arrived, he would withdraw the money from my bank account, less the 10% percent he promised me for helping.
I ain't no dummy. There was no way I was gonna turn down an easy $300,000 investment opportunity like that.
Anyway, as the prince said, I really AM a goodly person and I grew to like that word "goodly." And there is no doubt in my mind that I am about to create a very goodly cheese steak sandwich.
And it will be a mid-western cheese steak sandwich made from mid-west raised beef, mid-west processed provolone cheese, and mid-west grown red bell peppers and onions from a local farmer's market. It will truly be an authentic mid-western goodly lunch.
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I already had the fresh, goodly mid-western ingredients I needed in my refrigerator. NICE!
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I sliced up the onion, provolone cheese, red bell pepper, and leftover steak as shown above. Generally, the traditional Philly Cheese Steaks have green bell peppers. I'd like to claim that my use of red peppers was a conscious use of culinary license, but the truth is that I just didn't have any green peppers on hand. I sliced the steak and provolone as thin as I could without drawing blood.
I tossed the onions and peppers in a pan of hot, clean, olive oil. None of that Rocky Balboa oil for me.
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Next, throw the Provolone cheese on the steak/onion/bell pepper concoction and let it melt.
Then it's just a matter of scooping it all onto a bun. OHHHHH man, I can't wait to eat.
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But I had a problem. That problem was (gulp, I can hardly say it) Cheez-Whiz. Incredibly, the famous Philly Cheese Steak vendors offer that bright orange cheese-like substance on their sandwiches. You can get your cheese steak with Provolone or you can get them "wit whiz." Or, I assume "witout" it. Based on how picky the Philly fanatics are, you'd think there would be some kind of official cheese standard.
I assembled my first sandwich "NOT wit whiz" and I used a round sesame-seed bun instead of a hoagie roll--just one more way to distinguish my Mid-western Goodly from a Philly. I must say, it was pretty darn goodly.
Then came the moment of truth. It went against everything I believe in as a culinary genius, but in order to present a well-rounded article on cheese steaks, I felt it was important to make another one "wit whiz." It pained me to do it, but sometimes a celebrity chef has to endure a little pain.
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I made an emergency run to
the grocery store to pick up a jar of the stuff. |
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Incredibly, it was also pretty goodly.
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THE FINAL ANALYSIS: Goodly But Not Greatly
I liked my sandwiches, but I didn't LOVE them. They were tasty, but not mouthwateringly awesome. No doubt they were every bit as good as a Philly Cheese Steak Sandwich, but they're probably not going to put the Philadelphia vendors out of business.
At least I'm being honest. The Chef G. Cooking Channel is ALL about honesty. All the other celebrity chefs on TV just gush huge self-congratulatory comments about every single dish they cook. I can't believe the superlatives they toss out there after they taste their own meals. REALLY? You guys and gals never fall short of expectations? Well, good for you.
Hey, I sure appreciate you reading this article and I will try to do better next time. See you soon.
-Chef G.
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