Roll with it

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There is no secret Philadelphians and New Yorkers share a heated rivalry over their respective sports teams, but, when it comes to cheesesteaks, most consider the City of Brotherly Love the undisputed champ.

Arch Durham, who drove 95 miles from New York City last month to taste the original at Pat’s King of Steaks, 1237 E. Passyunk Ave., wanted to know firsthand if the contenders were just pretenders.

"We prefer the New York cheesesteak," Durham said while chowing down on a provolone wit. "In terms of preparation, the more finely diced meat is the way to go."

Durham thought his Philly version was not as perfect as it could have been, but took partial blame. When he didn’t ask for "Whiz wit’" like everyone else, his provolone didn’t melt to his liking.

Locals and out-of-towners alike love talking cheesesteak, chatter that almost always turns into legend, from the top cheese to rolls that come right from the stands’ backyards to ordering in such as way as it has been elevated to an art form, albeit a very restrictive one.

Carolyn Wyman, author of "The Great Philly Cheesesteak Book," said more people order Kraft American on their steak 2:1.

"There’s a lot of people out there that are afraid of Cheez Whiz," Wyman, of the 1800 block of South 12th Street, said. "They think it’s not real cheese."

At first, the steaks didn’t even have cheese to choose from. According to Wyman’s book, Pat’s started with just American while others argue provolone and Whiz came first.

Sometimes the bread can make or break a sandwhich. Many locals think the best rolls are found in the Keystone State, but places like Tony Luke’s, 39 E. Oregon Ave., and Geno’s, 1219 S. Ninth St., purchase their’s from Liscio’s Italian Bakery in Gloucester County, N.J., according to Wyman’s book released earlier this year. Pat’s also bought from Liscio’s, but switched to Aversa’s, another South Jersey bakery, about a year ago.

"[Locals] usually think it has to do with the water," Wyman said, "but you can make bread anywhere."

Pat’s and Geno’s claim they tear through thousands of rolls a day. With such high demand, that equals more bread than a steakshop can store, which forces bakeries to pump out their product all day.

"It’s all in the process of making your dough and how you bake your bread," Liscio’s co-owner Chad Vilotti, who doesn’t buy the water theory, said.

There is an ordering protocol at most places, as well, proving not all myths are without teeth. Customers should sidle up to the window, ready to go, and say "Whiz wit’" to get a cheesesteak with Cheez Whiz and fried onions or there is also the "prov wit’out" for a provolone minus fried onions.

John Rushworth crosses the river twice a month for the bread, meat and cheese combination he can only find at Tony Luke’s — and he is happy with the rolls, ordering process and everything in between.

"There ain’t too many sandwiches like this in Jersey," the Pennsauken, N.J., resident summed up.