Jim's Steaks: Better than Pat's or Geno's, for real.

In Philadelphia, the battleground for cheesesteak fame has always been at the intersection of 9th and Passyunk. This is where the legendary Pat's Steaks and Geno's Steaks are located at, catty-corner from each other. Each of these establishments claim to have invented cheesesteak, and inturn have the better cheesesteak. Pat's tries to booster it's claim to cheesesteak superiority by having the rudest little shits in all of South Philly running the counter. Geno's, meanwhile, tries to booster itself by drowning out the light of the moon with more neon lights than a Las Vegas go-go bar with half the taste. I've eaten at both, and each left me with the same feeling: that I needed to floss vigorously to get the half a cow out that was still stuck in my teeth.

My cheesesteak heart has come to belong at the corner of South&4th St, at Jim's Steaks. I have never been there anytime of day when there wasn't a line, usually out the door and around the corner. The guys at the counter are in a hurry and you'd best be ready to order when you get to the counter, but they won't cop an attitude if you don't use the "proper" ordering lingo. When my good friend Soda-Frybread was in town from Phoenix, I took her to Jim's South Street location to satisfy her cheesesteak tooth.


The counter at Jim's, smell the cheesesteaky goodness.


Jim's has a distinct Art Deco style. You can see the black and white sign like a beacon in a sea of neon. The tile and signs are all set in black and white, fitted against the chrome counters, fixtures, and stove. You've heard of the velvet rope? At Jim's they have a chrome rope, helping to keep people from jumping the ever present line.

While waiting in line at Jim's, and you will be, you can spend your time reading the walls which are decorated with reviews, articles, and pictures of famous patrons. This is especially helpful if the D-bag in the pink Abercrombie t-shirt behind you in line starts running his mouth about how you'll never be able to get a seat upstairs. Behind the counter Jim's has several glass refrigerator cases full of drinking options including Yoo-Hoo, Dr. Brown's sodas, and beer. The smell of the meat and onions cooking on the grill will make your mouth salivate like teenage boy opening his first girly magazine. In true Philly fashion, the steaks are served on Amoroso rolls. You can get your order to go, or to eat in the up stair's dining area. Soda-Frybread and I each got "Whiz,wit" or roughly translated from Philadelphianese: Cheesesteaks with fried onions and Cheez Whiz. Soda-Frybread also got a package of Tastykakes to complete the quintessential Philly meal.

Soda-Frybread's Cheesesteak:




The cheesesteaks at Jim's are juicy and flavorful. I'll allow that Jim's steaks are kind of greasy, but this is a cheesesteak, not a soy burger. The onions are cooked till they are tender and sweet, and the salt of the Cheez Whiz compliments them. I've had the cheesesteaks with provolone cheese, which are good but have a heavier cheese flavor. I washed down the salty, greasy, cheesy goodness with a Dr. Brown's Cream Soda. If it's available, get the Pennsylvania Dutch Birch Beer.

The Cheesesteak aftermath:



I always suggest eating in the upstairs dining area, which gives you a panoramic view of South Street. Seating is limited so you may need to make new friends in order to get a seat. If you snag a spot by the window you can enjoy your meal while watching the on going scene on the street below.


View from Jim's:




Jim's is well worth the trip into center city, the fight for parking, and the long wait. According to Soda-Frybread, it's even worth a cross continental flight!

ChesDel Diner: Well, sort of.

As someone who comes from the state home to more diners than any other, New Jersey, I'm a bit of a Diner Snob. Scatch that. I'm a full blown diner elitist. Three rules of diners:

1) Must be open 24hrs, or as close as possible in accordance with local laws.
2) Must have rotating mirror-ball inspired dessert case.
3) Must serve breakfast all day.

ChesDel Diner of Odessa, Delaware is no such beast. They are open limited hours, including closing at noon on Monday. They do not serve breakfast all day. They do have have a rotating mirror-ball dessert case, but it's offerings are rather weak. While the restaurant (it is NOT a diner) does offer some kitchy appeal with the original prefabricated building that characterizes "diners" still intact, albeit hidden beneath two large additions. Several of the booths in the front grill area have 1940's era newspapers shellacked onto the table tops, which provides you with entertainment while you wait. Prices are a bit on the high side for my taste ($6 for half a Belgian waffle with no sides? but stick to the basics (something fried, something with eggs) and the prices are more reasonable.

Sir. Forksalot and I decided to check it out for a late breakfast. I know the ChesDel is known for it's daily rotating of specials and was excited to check it out. Despite our chilly reception from the waitress whose lips were never in danger of pointing upwards during our entire meal, we were excited to try out their breakfast offering. He decided on the cream chipped beef with scrapple, and I went with the half a Belgian waffle with fresh local peaches and whipped topping. Because we wanted to fully solidify our commitment to solidified arteries, we added on a side of homefries and corned beef hash.




First up, my Belgian waffle. This was pretty disapointing. While the waffle itself had good flavor, it had a rubbery texture that made me suspicious it had been nuked in a microwave rather than freshly poured over a griddle. Making matters worse was the because it was already slightly soggy, the peaches made the top a wet goey mess. The peaches were perfect, sweet, and ripe. However the ability to cut fruit does not make you a chef. My final gripe was the whipped topping. It tasted like something you'd find served beside at a hospital, and then only to very sick patients who wouldn't be around long enough to bitch. Serioulsy folks, if you're too cheap to spring for real whipped cream, at least make it Redi-whip?



On to the sides! We really have a good and bad side here. On the right, homefries. These were a major let down. The homefries were thin sliced like my Mom used to make, which made me hopeful. Till I took a bite that is. The homefries had been cooked in under heated oil, leaving them soggy rather than crispy. This might have not have entirely been the cook's fault. I quickly realized the potatoes had been sliced so thin that cooking them at all risked making potato chips rather than homefries. I did get the down low on the homefries, it seems they recently changed the way they were making them. Before they were chunks of fried potatoes which were much better. C'est la Vie.

The savior of the side dishes was the corned beef hash. Sir Forksalot and I nearly had a duel to the death over the last bite. This stuff never came anywhere close to a can. Cooked to perfection, with a warm inside and a nice crunchy layer outside, these babies were a delight to the mouth. Big chunks of corned beef maintained the texture along side cubes of potatoes. The spices were right on tract, even including a bit of fennel seed for kick.



Sir.Forksalot's cream chip beef, eggs, and scrapple. Not too shabby. I'll skip over reviewing the eggs. Anyplace that can screw up "two eggs, over medium" should be shut down on principal. The cream chipped beef had a nice subtle tang to the gravy which was creamy, with no lumps or gritty aftertaste you often find. The downfall of many a cream chipped beef is a lack of the vital ingredient - the chipped beef! However the ratio of gravy to beef was plenty generous. The scrapple was well cooked, fried for a nice crispy outside and mushy inside of things you don't want to know about. I'm not sure what brand they used, but it had a nice peppery spice to it. Dipped in a little maple syrup it was a savory-sweet pig intestine treat.

The coffee, a vital part to any diner experience, had a good flavor but was a bit weak. Stick to the iced tea instead. All in all it was an okay dining experience. The cornedbeef, cream chipped beef, and scrapple were really excellent. If the service had been a bit friendlier and the waffle not been nuked, I would have a much more glowing report. But, if you're in the area it's worth checking out if only for the corned beef.

Sir Forksalot says: Get off my scrapple, bitch!

Lickity Split: Home of the best lunch bargain on South Street.

Three things I love: Good food, booze, and a bargian. When all three of these things combine, it makes my inner foodie/alcoholic/cheapskate sing. After a hard day of shopping and body modification on the world famous South Street my traveling companion of the day, ChopStixx and I went in search of lunch. For those of you unfamiliar with South Street, allow me to enlighten you: South Street is a cornucopia of eateries and shops. You can choose from middle eastern, vegan, French, bar fare, Thai, kosher, sushi, etc all within a few block's span. Lunch is easy to find. Picking one place...that's where it gets tough. We strolled for a few blocks, not finding anything that really called out to us. Then we spied a sign hanging outside of Lickity Split that would live in infamy:





16oz of Pabst Blue Ribbon, shot of Power's whiskey, and a slice of pizza for $5? Oh, talk dirty to me.

In the upstairs bar our friendly bartender took our orders and set out our drinks for us as our pizza warmed in the kitchen. The second floor bar affords you a nice view of South Street, and across the street into Jim's Steaks. This is prime people watching, if you're into it. ChopStixx and I overfed the digital jukebox before getting down to the very serious business of getting drunk during the mid afternoon. With a happy little dance, we found that the jukebox contained Dropkick Murphy's, Flogging Molly, and Queens of the Stone age. Rock out with your PBR out!



I admit, I was hesitant. I figured if nothing else, the pizza slice would be puny and tasteless. After all, once you're half loaded on cheap whiskey and beer your taste buds have usually ceased proper function anyway. Au contraire, my sweet. Imagine my shock and delight as our bartender rolled out of the kitchen toting this:



Quite possibly the biggest slice of pizza I've ever seen. Tastey too! Despite being half in the bag at this point, I will make two complaints about the pizza: The sauce needed a little more oomph and the cheese was lackluster. However the crust was solid, and the sauce carried enough flavor that an extra sprinkling of garlic salt and hot peppers brought the flavor out nicely. But the portions were gigantic, and it satisfied a mean hunger.


For less than the cost of a value meal at Mc.D's, we satisfied our hunger, got drunk, and had a bar side sing along. Sweet!

To Lickity Split, we dub thee the finest lunch deal in all of South Street!

ChopStixx tested, Fox approved!

Holly's Resturant and Motel: Country friend finery, or prickly pickle?

My travel companion Sir Forksalot and I were making our way home from a swanky wedding on the Chesapeake, hungover and all partied out, when I spied a sign on the horizon for
Holly's Restaurant and Motel. Surely, this is the type of establishment that would cater to my need for a deep friend hangover remedy. After giving Sir Forksalot a nudge, we busted a U-turn on R. 50 and headed in.

The restaurant and motel practically scream "kitsch" something that warms my soul. Where there is a lack of taste in decor, it is usually made up for my taste in food. We slid into a booth and took a look at the menu. Prices seemed reasonable, maybe even cheap. This added to my glee, after all, what Jewish girl doesn't love a bargain? I settled on the Chicken Special: Three pieces of friend chicken, with two sides (I chose macaroni&cheese and fried green tomatoes) and cornbread for a measly $8.50. I also ordered iced tea, which was real honest to goodness tea and not that powdered shit some places try to pass off as drinkable. We passed the time waiting for our meals by playing with the paper place mats, that sported a State Capital naming game. We quickly learned that alcohol is a bad thing that makes you believe that Blackfoot is the capital of Montana.



The chicken was moist, hot, and crunchy. It had just enough seasoning to have some bite. The fried green tomatoes had a fresh tangy zip to them. And the macaroni and cheese? It came out with little angels fluttering around it, lit from within with the grace of god. The cornbread was sweet, but a bit dry. I also got an apple dumpling to go that lasted for the next two days due to it's enormous size. If you're in the area and on the go, bypass the fast food chains and pick up a Family Pack of Chicken to go. It's 8 pieces of chicken, four sides, rolls and butter for $13. That's less than KFC and without the gastrointestinal distress.


Fox tested, Sir Forksalot approved.