Philadelphia Cheese Steaks

Arranged a trip to Philadelphia with the Nugget, kind of felt like a day release, only with added baseball and cheese steaks.  Journey was a picturesque if somewhat frustrating one through Jersey with assorted tree surgeons blocking the road and making traffic a pain on a hot Saturday afternoon. We finally arrive at the stadium of the Phillies around 2ish with stomachs grumbling and brows sweating. Out of the car, straight into a harsh afternoon sun, we just know it’s going to be a fun if somewhat uncomfortable day.

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With the Phillie’s game not starting till 4, we made sure we gave ourselves enough time to walk the half  hour journey up 10th street, straight into the cheese steak centre of the world.  Thats right, deep in the pasty, worn down suburbs of down town Philadelphia lies two of the best cheese steak proprietors in possibly the whole world: Geno’s and Pat’s… Fierce rivals, staring each other down on opposite sides of an anonymous street. Standing toe to toe in the afternoon heat like greasy meccas, over run by swarms of hungry people, littering the pavements and roads, searching for a queue end that could quite possibly not exist.  Our plan is to get in, try a cheese steak from each place, get out, and, on the long walk back to the stadium, compare notes.

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Geno’s is first up, shorter queue, less selection on the wall, both of us get cheese steak provolone with onions, ruthlessly dealt with before finding a seat on a cobbled wall just across the street.  What can I say… quite simply superb, the perfect mix of fresh bread filled with fine slices of meat, cooked just right and smothered in fresh onions and a provolone cheese that perfectly integrated itself into every mouthful.  A tiny piece of greasy heaven on a sticky, sunny afternoon.  Somehow its deliciousness makes us even hungrier and we need to know if Pat’s can live up to what can only be described as a moment of nirvana.

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With steak fat stains on our shorts, we join the back of a now shortened queue at Pat’s, perked up in anticipation of what’s to come.  As we approach the front, a menu now stares us in the face with many more options than before.  What to do… peppers, cheeses, sauces?  I try and maintain the integrity of the experiment by ordering the same as before, ‘provolone, wit’ (the Nugget challenged me to order in as few words as possible).  The Nugget fancied the peppers and american cheese… schoolboy error I know, but the boy will not be dictated to!  We find a seat this time, and straight away the subtle differences between the two places become apparent.  Pat’s baguette is practically overflowing with meat, almost twice the size of Geno’s.  Fresh bread, perfectly fried onions, an unbeatable combination once again.  This time though the cheese has been packed too tightly into the crevasse of the baguette meaning an uneven distribution of cheese to meat.  Hell, I’m nitpicking… It was amazing too and despite being close to bursting, we devour our 2nd cheesesteak and make off into the hazy heat with huge smiles on our faces and bloated guts on our persons.  Our shorts were stained and our t-shirts were tight around our bellies…

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The long walk to the stadium down 10th street flies by as we discuss the experience we just had in minute detail… In summation, both cheesesteaks were otherworldly and were well worth the hour roundtrip in the blazing heat.  Pat’s had more meat but Geno’s was of better quality…  Overall scores on the doors:

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Geno’s: 10 (out of 10)

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Pat’s: 9 1/2

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As we approach Citizen’s Bank Park (the home of the Phillies; crap name, beautiful stadium), the game between the Twins of Minnesota and the Phillies of Philadelphia is already underway and the crowd are already ‘ooh’ing and ‘boo’ing.  By the time we reach our seats, in the nosebleeds behind homeplate, the Phillies are 3-0 down.  We squeeze ourselves into our seats, the sun, closer than ever, beating down on our backs.  The Phillies respond - top of the 2nd it’s 4-3 to the home team.  The Nugget and I stare off into the distance at the magnificient view straight down 10th street and into the glorious shadows of the skyscrapers and high rises of Philidelphia.  I find it hard to concentrate on the game as I become transfixed by its beauty, naively imagining the lives and adventures happening in and around its glistening buildings.  From a distance, I think I fall in love just a little… not with the reality of Philadelphia but instead with the ideals and the possibilities it houses.  For the first time in a while I become aware of the actual moment, who I am, who I’m with, where I am and where I want to go…  I start to smile, then the crowd rises to its feet, another home run for the Phillies. (There would be 9 ‘long balls’ in all, a record for the ground!)

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The game turns out to be a classic, a roller coaster, see-saw, humdinger of a battle.  Phillies are up 5 in the 9th… a third of the crowd has left, they think it’s all over.  The Twins rally, first two runs are clawed back… no outs.  They call on the closer, ‘Lights Out’  Lidge.  He promptly lets two runners on base.  Mauer’s up next, the crowd boo… catches two sighters then ‘BAM’, straight over the wall and into the ballpen.  The Twins are tied.  Two young guys sitting next to us, quiet all game suddenly jump out of their seats.  The old man in front curses and is promptly scolded by his wife.  I look at the clock and wonder how long the game will last.  Not very long it turns out… The Phillies try there hardest but the wind has been knocked out of them.  The Twins bag 3 in the 11th and the Phillies can’t tie it up.  Twins win 13-10…

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What a game… What a day…  The Nugget and I start the long drive home to Jersey, tired, sweaty, burnt but in good spirits.  Philadelphia, you’ve won our hearts.