Thoughts On: Sonny’s, Jim’s, and Max’s Steaks in Philly

Ninety-nine percent of my preparation for my weekend visit to Philadelphia was done in the context of cheesesteaks. I made sure I knew the names of the best spots in Philly and where they were, so no matter where I was in the city, I knew of a potential cheesy banger awaiting me around the corner. While it’s fun to fantasize about eating a cheesesteak at every renowned location, practically that’s ridiculous, so in the three days I explored the city with my friend I only actually ate three cheesesteaks, but I can still most certainly give my thoughts on them. All of these were ordered “whiz wit” (cheese whiz and onions), although I, nor anyone else in any of these restaurants, actually said that. 

Sonny’s: If you’re the kind of tourist that’ll start getting nervous when you see a metal fence and an ethnic person standing by it, then Sonny’s is a good local cheesesteak place for you to check out, as the restaurant is very clean, welcoming, and fully realized in it’s branding aesthetic. It’s like if the owners of Chipotle opened a cheesesteak joint. The cheesesteak itself had ribbons of steak, onions, and whiz slathered on top. The first thing I noticed is how distinctively different the flavor profile of this cheesesteak was compared to every other cheesesteak I’ve had, a flavor profile that rang true throughout the three I ate. The steak was peppery, tangy, and almost sour in a way, while the cheese had the same completely artificial, but kind of tasty, fake cheese flavor that something like Kraft Mac and Cheese does. However, I felt like because the steak was cooked at such a high temperature on the griddle it got dried out a bit, so the only source of moisture was from the cheese whiz, which the sandwiches needed more of. It also didn’t help that the whiz only sat on top of the steak, without ever becoming integrated. Overall, I think I enjoyed this steak mostly for the fact that it was my first cheesesteak in Philly and tasted distinctly unique. 

Max’s: A true neighborhood joint, Max’s atmosphere was the polar opposite of Sonny’s, but the cheesesteak itself was more similar than different. Here they slapped the whiz on the bottom of the bun, which overall I liked better, but it lacked the cheesy bite Sonny’s whiz had. Additional whiz was also desperately needed here, even more so than Sonny’s. The steak was better because it was juicer, but lacked flavor overall. But I think the biggest problem with Max’s is that the hoagie had no identity to it. Who’s cheesesteak is this? Why does it exist? What does the maker of this cheesesteak want me to see and feel while eating it? This was all completely void. 

Jim’s: The cheesesteak here was definitely the best of the three for a few reasons. One, the steak was chopped so finely that it turned into something resembling powered beef, and coupled with an easy going cook on the griddle, it was juicy and flavorful. Two, they put tasty cheese whiz on the bottom of the roll AND on top of the steak, so the two formed a deliciously gloopy marriage together. Three, Jim’s is located on South Street, the most culturally vibrant place I visited in Philly, and their second story seating allows you to witness all that may be happening on the street below. I get the vibe that Jim’s is a place everyone can rally behind, regardless of race, sex, or religion. Quality food can bring together a community of people, even if that food is a greasy stroke slapped on a bun for nine dollars. What a beautiful thing to behold .

Cheesesteaks in Philly are clearly a commercialized tourist trap of a food item and without having some idea of what you’re doing you’ll end up eating something from a food vendor that you think is good. To truly become an educated, qualified individual on the art of cheesesteaks I think you need to be a Philly native. There’s too many joints, too many disagreements, and too much variability to really know what you’re talking about unless you’ve been sheltered in this environment like an evangelical. I’ve only dipped my toe inside the Evangelical Church of Cheesesteaks, but I would like to return, and maybe one day become a member, given the opportunity.