To combat the high brow Morimoto, I took to the streets of Philadelphia, specifically South St. in Philly, for the infamous Jim's Steaks, and a true Philly Cheesesteak. The line for Jims, snakes inside 3 times, and when we walked past the place at halftime of the Eagles game, it flowed out of the joint and around the corner. We opted to wait until we came back from our walk before picking up a greasy bit of love.
As we walked up the 2nd time, the line didn't leave the building, which we took as a good sign, and walked in about 5 feet before hitting the curving line. It took about 15-20 minutes to hit the front of the line. I was warned, know how to order, they don't tollerate stupidity here. So, we had the order ready to go... 2 with provolone and fried onions. They take a slightly warmed roll, slap 2 slices of provolone on it, and chopp meat into the bun...It gets flipped over, and spatula full of grilled onions gets dropped on top. It's handed off, and it's done. By the time we get to our orders, we're starving. We walked back to my friend Jenny's place to eat them while watching the wrap up of the game. By this time, the cheese had melted into a gooey loveliness. It was greasy, the bread was slightly crisp on the edges, the onions and beef and cheese melted into a nice harmony, and it wasn't overly salty. It was heaven on a roll. Some time, I'll have to spend a week in Philly, trying a different steak each day, but it might just kill me.
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