Hometown Heroes
Three Writers Search for a Taste of the Familiar
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Sunday, July 2, 2006
CHEESE STEAKS
My wife and I almost broke up over a cheese steak. A few years ago, when we had been dating just a few months, I took her to Philadelphia to meet friends and family. All went well until we made a visit to South Street, where I introduced her to another very close friend: the authentic Philadelphia cheese steak.
The first sign of trouble came when she suggested we split one. I'm not a math whiz, but I knew right away that meant I'd get only a half a cheese steak. I countered by ordering two and agreeing to split hers. Problem solved. The real issue arose, though, after the cheese steak arrived and I looked up to see her squeezing mustard onto the steaming mass of steak, cheese and onions. I looked around, hoping no one else had witnessed this.
You don't, as John Kerry found out the hard way, order Swiss cheese on your cheese steak. You don't eat it on French bread. And with Rocky Balboa as my witness, you sure as heck don't put mustard on it (ketchup, on the other hand, is totally acceptable). My wife, however, wasn't stymied by this bit of essential cheese steak etiquette. "It's the same as a hamburger and I'd put mustard on a hamburger," she said defiantly, squirting another dollop on the sandwich as horrified customers looked on.
I suppose every person should be allowed one flaw, and for the sake of our relationship, I've accepted this mustard misuse as my wife's. It's not a big issue. As it turns out, she doesn't really like cheese steaks at all. And that's fine with me because it means I'll never be asked to split another.
Though I know where to find a great cheese steak in Philly (skip Geno's, go to Pat's, Jim's, Dalessandro's or Tony Luke's), I've never even bothered looking for one in the decade or so I've lived in Washington. Frankly, the reports I'd heard weren't promising. So I welcomed the challenge to find a few local spots that could do a Philly cheese steak proud. At each place, I ordered the basic cheese steak with onions, though all offer multiple variations.
AL'S STEAK HOUSE
Cheese steak lovers don't like a lot of distractions from the main event, and at this no-frills restaurant on Del Ray's main drag, there aren't any. No-nonsense owner John Severson, who bought the joint in 1965 and who many customers call "Al" even though that was the original owner's name, takes your order and tells you to take a seat. Ten minutes later he barks your name and hands you a paper-wrapped package the size of a football. This is no ordinary sandwich. It's a beefed-up version, piping hot, with a heaping mound of chopped, lightly grilled onions on top. The roll doesn't stand a chance of containing its exceptionally tasty and abundant filling. "You have a good one," Severson called out as I left 30 minutes later and five pounds heavier. Thanks Al, I just did. $6.50.
1504 Mount Vernon Ave., Alexandria. 703-836-9443. http:/
MARIO'S PIZZA HOUSE
The bright red-and-white landmark restaurant on Wilson Boulevard has a sign out front saying it was voted "best steak cheese in town." Alas, by whom and when is not clear. A bustling joint that shares its space with a Carvel outlet (hello, Fudgie the Whale!) this may be the only place in the area where you can get a steak and cheese (that's what they call it here) 24 hours a day. That, it turns out, is a mixed blessing. The version here is cooked too long, is served on a sub-par sub roll and isn't quite savory enough to excite the taste buds. Still, for a quick fix, it's certainly passable, especially if you load up on ketchup and toppings. $5.29.
3322 Wilson Blvd., Arlington. 703-525-0200. http:/


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