The Philly cheesesteaks we genuinely want to eat

How do you achieve cheesesteak Nirvana? In 2019, Angelo’s owner Danny DiGiampietro broke the signature sandwich down to its elements — notably, baking his own rolls, thoughtfully seasoning and grilling the ribeye, and adopting Cooper Sharp cheese — then put it back together again. It’s now the region’s benchmark — packing a chewy, gooey filling into a crispy-crusted package. The diavolo pizza steak with arrabbiata sauce could be your go-to if you like ’em hot and messy. Note that the South Philly location is cash-only and takeout-only, while UberEats services the delivery- and pickup-only ghost kitchen in North Philly.  — Michael Klein

Joe Maglio is yet another chef whose steak sandwich was inspired by John’s Roast Pork. But the “Don Cheech” he serves at Cafe Carmela in Northeast Philly (and a satellite location in Huntingdon Valley) has become an elite contender all its own. Named for Joe’s dad, Francesco Maglio, the sandwich is a paragon of tender ribeye that’s not overly chopped, and tumbles out of its seeded roll glazed in a molten ivory layer of Cooper Sharp. The diced onions are cooked but not overly caramelized, leaving them crunchy enough to add the texture with little bursts of sweet onion juice to all that meaty richness. The Corropolese rolls aren’t quite as hearty as the Carangi rolls they’ve replaced, but if you hold their sides gently together while you take a bite, they won’t fall apart completely — if you eat briskly enough.  — Craig LaBan

Two friends from Camden approached their first business together — a cheesesteak shop in Merchantville — from a fan’s perspective. That is, they were willing to pay whatever required for Cooper Sharp cheese and pricier cuts of ribeye, and to hire a local bakery — which they refuse to identify — to make a custom 10-inch semolina roll (with and without seeds). The result is a generous sandwich where the meat and cheese melding into a creamy dream. The misspelled name? Just so you remember it. — Michael Klein

Nish Patel bought a decent enough pizza and sandwich shop in Northern Liberties a few years back. During the pandemic, he decided to elevate the food, starting with the roll. His effort — equipping a full bake shop and adapting a recipe devised by a mysterious consultant — has yielded sandwiches on seeded rolls that stay tasty even after a long ride in a delivery vehicle (there are several tables for dine-in). One of Del Rossi’s other secrets is the large, rough chop of fried onions on the sandwich. — Michael Klein

Most chicken cheesesteaks are juiceless abominations that begin with the clink of a tile of frozen chicken landing on the flat top grill to defrost. The chicken steak at Delco Steaks begins no differently. But this popular Delaware County chain has also cleverly hedged its bets with a Franken-steak alternative called “Welshie’s Barnyard.” This sandwich blends the lean chicken meat with marbled beef ribeye and crisps of smoky bacon. As a purist, I was naturally skeptical. But the finished product was surprisingly good — both lighter than a usual cheesesteak and more flavorful than the typical “healthy” alternative. Delco Steaks is another company looking to replace its seeded Carangi’s rolls while that bakery recovers from a fire; the lighter weight seeded Aversa’s rolls currently in use pretty much fell apart. A bonus: the Folsom location (one of several in this fast-growing chain) is attached to Delcoland, a mini-golf where every hole is themed with a different Delco town on a sign designed by famed local sandwich illustrator Hawk Krall. For pure Delco pride alone, that’s one cheesesteak experience that’s hard to top. — Craig LaBan

South Philly restaurant veteran Nick Miglino is understandably obsessed with his resurrection of the classic pizza steak popularized by Anthony Milano in the 1950s. Unlike most of its modern-day descendants, the original pizza steak did not ladle on rivers of red sauce, but instead cushioned the meat with medallions of grilled plum tomatoes. (Many old-school haunts label this sandwich as a Milano.) At Dolores, where the ripe tomatoes are dusted with hand-pinched Sicilian oregano and a few finishing drizzles of extra-virgin olive oil, Miglino’s rendition is cooked from sliced pads of tender, prime-grade Creekstone flat iron, layered onto a Sarcone’s roll with mild provolone, then drizzled with a “wee bit of gravy” from the deglazed meat drippings scooped off the griddle. There are no onions, and it’s a subtle beauty by today’s brash steak standards — and still a bargain at $12.50 for 7.5 ounces of meat. It’s also pure harmony when you take a bite. “We were born and raised on this stuff,” says Nick, “because none of us went to Pat’s and Geno’s. None of us.” — Craig LaBan

Cognoscenti have been darkening the doorway of this Camden corner barroom long before Anthony Bourdain put it on the map for its cheesesteaks layered carefully on round poppy-seed kaiser rolls with white American cheese and a juicy mop of seasoned fried onions. I like sitting at the bar and drizzling on the crushed pepper relish, then cooling the fires with a Guinness. They’re the reason Donkey’s has expanded with two outposts in Burlington County. — Michael Klein

A New Jersey-based chainlet with “burger” in the name is not the most likely candidate for a list of the region’s great cheesesteaks. In fact, the typical response to the Gouldsburger’s steak — by default, with shaved (not chopped) beef, onions fried in olive oil, and a generous amount of Cooper Sharp thoroughly blended throughout — is genuine surprise at how good it is. One caveat: Its signature roll, which trends light and yeasty, is covered in “everything” seasoning — yes, as in bagels — which may appeal or appall in roughly equal measure. (There are a limited number of plain rolls available at each location.) — Matt Buchanan

The original Jim’s — now Jim’s West — remains an original, with owner and first-time restaurateur Cortez Johnson bringing back many of the workers when he reopened the shop in 2023 after purchasing it from the Proetto family. It’s a true neighborhood spot, filled at lunch hour with locals, SEPTA employees, and postal workers. The cheesesteak is best eaten there and loaded up with any of the numerous condiments and toppings on offer for the complete experience; this is not a place to the practice the steak austerity that’s taken hold in recent years. Yet another reason to eat there: the ludicrously good banana pudding, which is definitely not on the menu at the also recently reborn Jim’s South.  — Matt Buchanan

Owner Joe Groh’s Fishtown cheesesteak corner has the vintage look of an updated diner with its gently curved ceiling, teal toned decor, friendly servers, and cozy booths. It’s an appropriate air of nostalgia for a place that descends from the 1949 Wissinoming soda shop Groh purchased years ago from his mentor, Samuel Sherman. That original location in Northeast Philly is now closed. But Groh carries on the old-school cheesesteak style as well as anyone, from the soft rolls with a delicate crisp that gently embraces the sandwich’s stuffing to the griddle style that showcases the house-cut ribeye that is lightly chopped, if at all. As a result, this is a beef-forward sandwich, with the cheese working its way into the mix with each successive bite. Confetti-sized onions lend a nicely caramelized sweetness, but overall, this is a soft-spoken sandwich that benefits from the zesty tang of spicy cherry peppers on the side. Two major bonuses: Joe’s offers a gluten-free version when its Flakely rolls are in supply. Second, the shakes are the perfect frosty coda to this meal.   — Craig LaBan

The emergence of John’s Roast Pork as a cheesesteak power house two decades ago put a worthy version of Philly’s most famous sandwich on the national map, scoring a James Beard Foundation award as an America’s Classic. John’s changed the landscape in part by leaving the squishy rolls of yore behind and ushering in the era of the crusty, seeded loaf. The reason? John’s primary business was its namesake pork sandwiches, which require a sturdy roll to hold all that juice. So John Bucci Jr. naturally turned to what he knew, gutted a space-making channel through their centers and stuffed them to the brim with some of the most skillfully griddled steak and cheese in town. (“John’s was absolutely an inspiration for me,” says Danny DiGiampietro, whose seeded house rolls at Angelo’s arguably pushed the bread bar even higher.) A devastating December fire at Carangi Baking Co. has sent John’s and others scrambling. Bucci landed on bread from Sarcone’s, which is more than an adequate replacement for what is still one of Philly’s benchmark cheesesteaks where, no, Whiz is not an option. (But now Cooper Sharp is.) For an especially deep-cut into cheesesteak tradition, try the bruschetta steak topped with fresh-chopped tomatoes.  — Craig LaBan

The focus on balance that’s made Johnny’s a hit with pizza lovers over the past two years is also what transformed this small Bryn Mawr pizzeria into a cheesesteak destination of note. I found myself in Johnny’s back dining room amid the banter of two avid cheesesteak hunters — one who’d come 45 minutes from Lansdale, and another who’d traveled half an hour from West Chester. I quickly realized why they trekked here: These 12-ounce bundles of house-cut rib-eye are both hefty and carefully constructed. The coarse-chopped meat and onions are griddled together, so the flavors marry with just the right amount of seasoning and melty Cooper Sharp. They’re tucked into a sesame-seeded roll that’s quite distinct — a whole-wheat potato loaf that, toasted in the oven just beforehand for an extra crisp, has enough integrity to contain this juicy stuffing. Biscgelie isn’t divulging his roll source, ever-vigilant of competition. But there is one secret I was able to pry away: “We strictly cook the meat in butter,” he says. No wonder this steak sandwich is so good.  — Craig LaBan

The bold yellow sign above the front door says Mama’s Pizzeria, but its focus is cheesesteak. The standard steak has been cooked the exact same way for nearly 50 years by second-generation owner Paul Castellucci, always featuring a (secret) three-cheese blend twisted throughout the finely chopped sirloin. The bakery-fresh roll is warm and spongy, but it maintains its structural integrity until the last bite, even while being absolutely filled with meat and cheese. Castellucci plans to close the nearly 70-year-old shop when he retires sometime in 2026. — Tommy Rowan

Marlo and Jason Dilks of Slice Pizza and P’unk Burger have returned to their West Passyunk neighborhood with a cozy corner luncheonette whose sandwiches are right out of the Fioravanti family playbook — namely, cutlets. The cheesesteaks have a pleasant, undough-y lightness, owing to the unseeded Liscio’s roll (gluten-free is also available). The cheesesteak with fried onions is the Eye, but for a buck more, go for the P’unk, which gets you an onion ring, Gouda cheese, and signature sauce. Note it’s cash-only with an ATM on premises, or you can pay by card online. — Michael Klein

Not ordering the panzerotti at Paffuto requires a very good reason — as does charging $21 for a cheesesteak. Fortunately, the cheesesteak here delivers a satisfying rejoinder to both. The distinctly high-quality ribeye is the star here, with supporting roles played by the seeded Sarcone’s roll, caramelized onions, and Cooper Sharp. But the breakout character is the house-fermented Fresno hot sauce, which plays its part beautifully, adding a distinct throughline of flavor without overly asserting itself. If you’re “premium” cheesesteak curious, this is probably the one to try. — Matt Buchanan

The roadside cheesesteak stand in the parking lot of Pier 40 off Columbus Boulevard, where Christian Street melts into the Delaware River, still hits the spot. It serves up narrow, tightly packed missiles of chopped sirloin with a strong pepper-y finish on either seeded or light rolls (same charge) starting at $14, wit’ or without. (But the grilled onions are glorious, so get them.) Besides American or Whiz, provolone and Cooper Sharp is offered; sharp provolone is an additional 50 cents. The light roll is on the soft side, but it meshes well with everything it contains. Watch out for the wind roaring off the Delaware — you’ll want to put your soda cup on top of the sandwich wrapper. — Tommy Rowan

There’s long been a misconception that a fancier grade of meat equates to a better cheesesteak. But the pedigrees that apply to steakhouse cuts eaten with a knife and fork don’t necessarily apply to the multi-dimensional world of a sandwich, where the supporting cast of bread, cheese and toppings oblige the meat to play a different role — one that must work in harmony with the ensemble. Center City’s latest “gourmet” cheesesteak purveyor, Shay’s Steaks, offers a fascinating case study on the subject, where you can spend $34 for 12 ounces of American Wagyu. The fat-enriched payoff, once blended with cheese and onions, isn’t especially compelling. There’s a prime rib option ($19.95) that is strangely austere. The $26.75 filet mignon is undeniably tender but falls flat in the flavor department. The N.Y. strip ($18.95) is my ideal middle place, with a noticeably fat-marbled savor and enough bite in its texture to give the rest of the sandwich a measured bounce that propels the other flavors. With its extensive roster of special seasonings (black garlic and truffle?) signature combos (try the Philly Special) and hourly meat-slicing (to keep it fresh), Shay’s clearly takes its craft seriously. But it is the care with which they build the sandwiches, not the posh grades of beef, that make it worthwhile. — Craig LaBan

The simplicity of the naming convention for Speer Madanat’s growing empire of West Chester food operations (Pizza West Chester, Steaks West Chester, a forthcoming Ice Cream West Chester) mirrors his formula for making food so tasty, people drive an hour-plus to try it: high-quality ingredients plus good technique. The cheesesteak is no exception. It’s built with shaved ribeye, coarse-cut Cooper Sharp, and chopped onions that are all griddled in olive oil. Once the meat is well-slicked with cheese and flecked with onion, it’s nestled into one of the most beautifully browned yet tender sesame-seeded rolls around; no surprise, it’s custom-made by La Baguette Magique, a fellow West Chester gem. Impressively, the roll can endure even a 45-minute drive without getting soggy — assuming you can resist eating it then and there. — Jenn Ladd

There are now four locations in Steve's royal family of diner-style shops, and they all want you to clearly specify wit’ or without. The rolls are cushion-soft and warm, the Whiz gooey but not watery, and the (non-chopped) rib-eye medallions browned but juicy. Your cheese options are American, Whiz, provolone, or mozzarella. On the sandwich, there is plenty of room for a few more pieces of beef, so consider the double-meat cheesesteak (a hefty $19.99). Inside every store except Wildwood is counter-style seating, but down the Shore there are tables and chairs available out front. — Tommy Rowan

Patrick Guff clearly channels Donkey’s Place in the cheesesteaks served on poppyseeded kaiser rolls at his sandwich shop across from Tonewood Brewing in Haddon Heights. The grillcraft sets this steak apart. The beef, cut into thin strips — not chopped — gets its own caramelizing sear on the flattop, while cheese is placed on the bottom of the roll. Beef and cheese is then layered on top before adding the onions. — Michael Klein

The Rook Manayunk was the original. But the new spot, set on a triangular wedge just outside the wingspan of Fishtown and Northern Liberties, is already setting itself apart. Steaks are served on sturdy seeded rolls, and include a healthy helping of shaved ribeye with a sprinkle of sauteed (or raw) onions. There are only two cheese options: Cooper Sharp ($16) or a creamy, long hot-infused Whiz ($16.50). The order window is set within large bays offering naked views of the kitchen, and sports-talk radio blares through the outdoor speakers while you wait on the outdoor patio, which is decorated with bistro lights hung above high-top tables. — Tommy Rowan

It always irked me that Reading Terminal Market, Philly’s ground-zero crossroads for tourists and locals alike, never had a cheesesteak stand worth bragging about. That changed with the arrival of Uncle Gus’ Steaks, a collaboration between Joe Nicolosi of DiNic’s Roast Pork & Beef, Dave Braunstein of Pearl’s Oyster Bar, and Danny DiGiampietro of Angelo’s Pizzeria. The Angelo’s connection is enough to send local cheesesteak hounds into a froth of excitement, spurring predictably long lines at lunch.  It is a near clone of the iconic Angelo’s steak, with 12 ounces of the same ribeye served on a seeded roll baked to the same recipe as Angelo’s, albeit at a different facility. I was impressed by the quality and freshness of that meat, well-seasoned and tucked, still dripping with juices, into the crusty roll. Add an oozy core of Cooper Sharp, long hots for fire, and some real roasted mushrooms on the side, and this was one of the best cheesesteaks I’d had in months. With one exception: the pre-cooked and caramelized onions were too wet from sitting in a bucket on the side, adding neither texture nor flavor to the mix. With a base price of $17 for a cheesesteak, a few dollars more than Angelo’s,  you’re paying extra — perhaps for the convenience of the prime Reading Terminal real estate. Still, putting a top-notch version of our city’s signature sandwich in the path of so many visitors has a value all its own. — Craig LaBan

“That place in Maple Glen that’s like Angelo’s” has been on every cheesesteak connoisseur’s lips since Vince DiRienzo and Mo Huss opened their passion project in the summer of 2023, even if they can’t remember the Verona name. The cheesesteak, on Sarcone’s rolls, is the calling card, with Cooper Sharp melting into nearly a pound of hand-sliced ribeye and chunks of sautéed onions on each sandwich. Succumb to any temptation to order a pizza here, too. — Michael Klein