Philadelphia: A City of Flavor and Familiar Faces
Philadelphia, known as the City of Brotherly Love, is home to none other than the iconic Philly Cheesesteak — or as locals call it, simply the cheesesteak. What brought me to the city this time wasn’t food, but family. My nephew had just graduated from high school, and it was a moment worth celebrating. Still, I couldn’t resist using the trip as an opportunity to finally explore the city’s most famous dish and discover whether Philly truly lives up to its legend.
The cheesesteak has always been one of my favorite sandwiches, so I made it my mission to test the best of the best. With only three days in the city, I planned carefully and hit three of the most talked-about spots.
Stop #1 — Max’s Steaks
📍 3653 Germantown Ave, Philadelphia, PA 19140
My first stop was Max’s Steaks, a North Philly staple. I ordered a traditional cheesesteak — shaved steak, white American cheese, onions, ketchup, mayo, salt, and pepper — all stacked on a French roll.
One thing I quickly learned: ketchup is essential. In Philly, a cheesesteak without it isn’t a real one.
The steak itself had a great texture and chew, but it fell a bit short on flavor. It wasn’t as savory as I’d hoped, and the bread — a little stale — pulled from the experience. It wasn’t bad by any means, but it didn’t capture that signature “wow” moment I was searching for.
Stop #2 — Sajoma Deli
To Chef Miguel, thank you for sharing your stories with me and showing me what is truly needed to make a good cheesesteak.
📍 Local Corner Bodega in North Philly
Next came Sajoma Deli, a small corner bodega near where we were staying. This stop, as it turned out, became the heart of my trip.
Behind the grill was Chef Miguel, who told me he’d been crafting cheesesteaks for over 17 years, working in kitchens across both North and South Philly. I’ll be honest — when I saw him pull the bread from the freezer and drop steak-ums on the flat-top, I was skeptical. But after one bite, that doubt vanished.
The sandwich was fantastic. The provolone cheese (his recommendation over white American) gave it a rich, balanced flavor that melded perfectly with the warm bread and crisped edges of steak. If he had added just a bit more meat, it might have been the best cheesesteak I’ve ever had.
As we talked, I realized something — the sandwich wasn’t just good because of its flavor. It was good because of him. The way he spoke about his work, his pride in the city, and his quiet commitment to the craft — it all showed in the food. Every bite tasted like a piece of someone’s story.
“There’s something special about food made by those who cook for love, not profit.”
Stop #3 — Ishkabibble’s
📍 337 South St, Philadelphia, PA 19147
To wrap up the trip, I stopped by Ishkabibble’s, one of the city’s most debated spots — often compared to the famous Jim’s Steaks.
The sandwich here had great balance — the ratio of meat to bread was just right, and the roll was soft and fresh. The only shortcoming was the flavor itself. Like Max’s, it leaned on salt and pepper for seasoning but didn’t take it far enough. Still, the experience felt undeniably Philly — lively energy, sizzling grills, laughter spilling into the night air.
Final Thoughts
Three days, three sandwiches, and three stories later — I found that what makes the Philly Cheesesteak special isn’t just the meat, the bread, or the cheese. It’s the people behind it. The city’s pride, grit, and heart are wrapped up in every bite.
For me, the best cheesesteak wasn’t necessarily the most flavorful — it was the one that carried soul. And that’s something you can’t fake.
“Philly taught me that flavor is only part of the recipe — connection is what makes it unforgettable.”
Until next time,
— Seasoned Thoughts
