pop's.

Weeks back I caught a Food Network show that was illustrating the great rivalry between Pat's and Geno's, warring cheesesteak factions of south Philly. They're across the street from each other. Pat's is pretty much credited with inventing the cheesesteak and stays true to the belief that Cheez Whiz is the way to go. Geno's chops its beef a little differently and touts Provolone or American as more authentic. If you watch the show, or if you know these joints, there really isn't a big difference between them.

I've never been to Philadelphia, but when I do, I plan to eat one at Pat's and then walk across the street and eat one at Geno's. That'll clear up a few things around here.

Above all else, the show made me want to go for the best cheesesteak I can get my hands on in Vegas, and there's really no competition. Pop's can be found on the corner of Decatur Boulevard and Alta Drive. The building (It looks like a fucked up barn and there's nothing in it but the kitchen; all eating is outside) was constructed in the '60s as a WeinerSchnitzel, and it's gone through several owners and versions. It's been a cheesesteak joint for at least 15 years. As Pop's, it's open 24 hours, every day, all year.

The nine-inch rolls are baked by the Amoroso Company in Philadelphia. The meat is thinly sliced, marinated sirloin. The cheeses are from the East Coast or the Midwest, but I don't really care about that because I believe a cheeseteak is steak, peppers and onions, and Kraft fucking Cheez Whiz. Sure, you can get mushrooms on it, or Swiss or Provolone or whatever. Chicken instead of steak. Bacon. Chili. There are options at Pop's. There's a pepperoni pizza cheesesteak. I'm sure it's awesome. I'll stick with mine.

So I was waiting for my sandwich, nibbling on fries, watching the cook chop shit up on the big flat top. It was damn cold outside, and I wasn't a bit worried about perching on a plastic stool and freezing my ass while I devoured this thing. There was a group of five pseudo gangsters behind me, wannabe-thug high school kids smelling of weed, ordering up all kinds of shit and taking some grief from the cooks. Traffic flew by on Decatur. I could have been anywhere else, a real city instead of Vegas. It could have been Philly, I guess. The cheesesteak was better than I remembered.