More Cheesesteak

So the last Presidential Debate was held last night, and, depending on your political preference, it was either an Obama victory or "Hey, the season finale for Project Runway is on!" Here's a bit of the highlights

As Mark Twain said, History doesn't repeat itself, but it does rhyme.

Anyway, when I talk politics, I get emails and conversations at the office and over the gaming table. When I talk games, I get emails and conversations at the office and over the gaming table. But when I talk cheesesteak? I have laid my tongue on the culinary third rail of the American appetite.

The discussion started with a local sandwich shop called "Sacks" which offers a "Classic Cheesesteak" with "Prime beef, grilled onions, dill pickles, tomatoes, mild cherry peppers or hot jolapenos, provolone cheese on an 8" roll. Choice of marinara or no sauce."

What fresh hell is this? Leaving aside the pickles and tomatoes, who puts marinara sauce on a cheesesteak?

Many people, in fact. And they prefer it that way, I have been assured. And while I have to admit that the marinara sauce does a lot for the sandwich from Sacks, I would hesitate to bequeath upon it the name "cheesesteak". And many agreed with me, calling it a pizziola or a pizza roll (and I would quibble with that one - a pizza roll is a long calzone, but that's another food fight).

I am no conservative in my cheesesteak outlook - My favorite cheesesteak is from Donkey's Place (pronounced DUN-kee's), which is run by the Lovely Bride's relatives and has for 65 years has been serving Camden with a great steak sandwich. And they are heretics for serving it on a kaiser roll as opposed to a long roll, I will admit. But the spices are what makes it all worthwhile, and elevates it to the top of the cheesesteak ranks.

But marinaro sauce? Sorry, just too kinky for me. I may enjoy it, but cannot call it a cheesesteak, much less a classic cheesesteak. I fear we must agree to disagree.

More later,