First stop: Campos Deli (214 Market Street, Philadelphia, PA), the official cheesesteak of local sports teams. Campos has a family-friendly feeling, it’s got the cozy-chain vibe: branded t-shirts behind the counter, tchotchke on the walls and a few cafe tables. I tried the cheesesteak hoagie (steak, cheese, onions, lettuce and tomato for $9.25) and the chicken heater (Chicken, Jalapeno cheddar and hot sauce $7.75). The cheese steak hoagie was by far the better. It had the meaty savory appeal I was looking for with some vegetable to keep it varied. The heater was decently spicy, but was pretty one-dimensional after the steak: spicy chicken, bite after bite. Something about the whole experience left me feeling a little duped. After I ordered I was asked if I wanted a side of cole slaw or pasta salad. Where’s the focus? Where’s the grit? It felt a little like a reproduction, as if I was in vegas at the “cheesesteak experience”.

Nearly bursting and with my vision fogged from eating, I stumbled down a few doors to stop number 2, Sonny’s Famous Steaks (228 Market Street, Philadelphia, PA). Something about this place struck me as more authentic immediately: no bric-a-brac, just a few tables, a meat slicer and a flat-top grill. The menu didn’t have any salads or vegetarian options, just meat, cheese and onions, focused and simple. I ordered my whiz-wit and didn’t get any weird up-sell, just a delicious sandwich. To be honest, I was so full, I couldn’t sit there and eat another. I took it home and man was I mad. I’d fallen for a trap. Sonny’s cheesesteak was incredible and it was exactly what I’d wanted a cheesesteak to be. It was over-the-top creamy and savory. Every bite was a warm blanket, a pair of warm socks, heated car seats. There was no excess cheese, no dripping grease. This may be the best cheesesteak I’ve ever had. How could I have filled up on lettuce and tomatoes and spicy chicken. Spicy chicken! I was ashamed. Though I was beyond full, I relished every cozy bite.

It seems to me as if Campo’s sold some tasty cheesesteaks, but then got popular, started diversifying, securing sports endorsements and making pasta salad. I don’t want to hold their success against them, but I can’t shake the feeling the at the experience is a bit manufactured. I had another day in Philly, I would’ve returned to Campo’s to try their whiz-wit and see if they still had it. Until then, I’ll return to Sonny’s and get what I should’ve gotten all along.

Campos is slightly higher on complexity of the Hoagie (lettuce, tomatoes)

Sonnys kept it simple

Sonny’s Wiz Wit

Chicken Heater

Cheesesteak Hoagie

Cheesteake Hoagie up close. Yum

The Reading Terminal Market (1151-1183 Arch Street, Philadelphia, PA) is a food paradise. You’ve got your Amish apple dumplings, Amish pretzels, Amish chicken and waffles, Amish lemonade…there’s a lot of Amish going on (and they make a mean blueberry lemonade, let me tell you). But the Italians represent, too, at DiNic’s. And that’s where you go if you’re a (carnivorous) sandwich lover. DiNic’s has a very short sandwich menu, made even shorter by the fact that the roast pork ($7.00) seems to be the star of the show. Your topping choices are also limited: sharp provolone, greens and roast peppers. Don’t even think about skipping the greens or the cheese ($1.25 for 2 toppings).

My companion and I ordered one sandwich to share, because we weren’t voraciously hungry, yet when it came out we thought they’d misunderstood our order. Each sandwich half was huge, and they were nice enough to split our shared ‘wich into two baskets and give us each our own fork (in case you’re not into grabbing dropped pork bits with your hands). It proved to be the perfect amount of sandwich – and what a sandwich! The perfectly roast pork is moist and tender. The greens (spinach in our case, they sometimes have broccoli rabe instead) are sauteed just enough to be cooked through but not mushy and retain their vibrant color; you’ll find flecks of red pepper and garlic throughout the hulking green mass. And the cheese, oh the cheese. I have never had provolone as sharp as this was, and it worked perfectly to give the sandwich a lot of zing without overpowering the more subtle flavors of the meat and greens. The bread was your standard Italian sandwich bread, soft enough to eat easily but somehow sturdy enough to stand up to the outpouring of meat juice soaking into it with every bite.

In short, if you’re in Philly, you need this sandwich – you won’t miss the cheesesteak.

Not too complicated, but plenty of quality:

So much green goodness:

Close view of the tasty pork:

Simplicity is delicious: