“A whiz wit, and a provolone wit.”
I mean, I knew I did not want it without. It had to be better “wit”. Right?
But I was really unsure about whiz. In the end, I decided I had to try it.
A sign emblazoned with the star spangled banner and a nasty looking bald eagle clearly stated:
“This is AMERICA, please when ordering SPEAK ENGLISH”
Odd…..because this is what people ahead of me sounded like:
“A whiz wit, an a whiz wi-out”
“Two whiz’s, one ‘merican wit”
Apparently the lady at Geno’s Steak taking the orders considers this English, given that she nodded knowingly and rang in the
orders. Was I ever glad I had a translator with me. Gerrie explained that “with” or “wit” is with onions, “without” or “wi-out” is no onions. Then there is the matter of cheese, or shall I say “cheese”: American, Provolone or “Whiz”…yup….CHEESE WHIZ. Seriously. I squished up my nose and frowned…”But is that the real deal?” Turns out, not a simple answer. To some yes; to others its Provolone or bust; and still others require a slice of American cheese to fulfill their Philly Cheesesteak dreams. In the name of research, we did what any honourable product developer would do, and ordered two to compare. “A whiz wit, and a provolone wit.” We never even debated the onions.
Geno’s Steaks is the new kid on the block – opened in 1966. Pat’s King of Steaks claims to be the original, having started their gig in 1930. Both are generally regarded as “the best” of the famous and often imitated Philly Cheesesteak. We scorfed down our first pair of sandwiches at Geno’s and then headed across the street to Pat’s, and duplicated our order exactly – for the sake of research. No signs telling us what language to order in, but the lingo remained the same.
Gerrie tells me that both use Amoroso’s bread – a sort of “Americanized” baguette. At Geno’s it has a luscious slick of oil on the outside and has been warmed. At Pat’s it’s straight up out of the bag. The super thinly sliced steak is similar at both – eye of round or rib eye cooked on the griddle. Pat nestles two thick slices of Provolone in the baguette before topping with hot steak, then onions. Geno, however, tops the steak with the cheese on the griddle and lets it all mix in together before filling the bread. Geno’s onions were plentiful, large cut and sweet – while Pat was a little less generous with the onions, but they were caramelized to a lovely golden brown. Gino mixed the whiz in with the steak – Pat topped the sandwich with a ladle full of orange cheese-like goodness. I don’t actually think Pat (the self-declared King) uses real Cheese Whiz – it was a tad too orange – I think it was an imitation of the iconic imitation cheese. A veritable imitation of an imitation. Nice. Pat’s sandwiches were, however, definitely prettier. If that counts for anything.
And now comes confession time. I have to tell you that if I were to do it all again, I’d head straight to Geno’s, and order, in ENGLISH a “A whiz wit.” No doubt about it. Under no circumstances up until this moment in my life, have I ever recommended that someone eat something containing Cheese Whiz….but in the Philly Cheesesteak it’s downright magic. The whiz mixes with the juices from both the steak and onions and creates this salty, creamy mess. It runs down your chin – your hands have to hold firmly the greasy bun lest it slide right out of your grip. It’s not pretty. It really isn’t. But it’s pretty damn tasty, and if you are ever in Philly – head down to 9th Street, get yourself to Geno’s and order “A whiz wit.”
