Food Wars
Written By: ARTY NELSON

The cheesesteak rivalry between Philadelphia and New York is as legendary as the sandwiches themselves. While both cities claim the sandwich as their own, the differences in their respective versions are undeniable.
Philly cheesesteak enthusiasts argue that the classic combination of ribeye, onions, and Cheez Whiz is the only true cheesesteak experience. New York chopped cheese lovers champion the versatility and bold flavors of their version. And in the City of Angels, both are looking for the title of best.
HARLEM TO HOLLYWOOD
Culinary legend has it that the chopped cheese (“the marriage of cheesesteak and burger”) sandwich was born in Harlem in the ‘90s—and any true New Yorker should be able to tell you exactly where it all started: on the corner of 110th Street and First Avenue. The sign out front says Blue Sky Deli, but those who have been in the neighborhood for a while know it as Hajji’s. Before he died, Anthony Bourdain brought the chopped cheese to national prominence on his show Parts Unknown.
Here in Los Angeles, there is a savory spot called New York’s Chopped Cheese (open til 3 a.m. on weekends!). The secret to a chopped cheese is the ground beef, which is broken up and “chopped” while it’s being cooked on the flat grill, then laid on the bun with peppers, onions, tomato, lettuce and their signature YERRR sauce. This baby captures all the essence of New York: bold flavors, diverse ingredients, and touches of tasty improvisations.
FROM PHILLY WITH LOVE
As a guy from Pittsburgh, I have a complicated relationship with the Philly cheesesteak. I’ve tried them all and have had a love/hate relationship with the hot and gooey beast. And Boo’s is up there with the best. It starts with the soft fresh bread that melts in your mouth, followed by the perfect amount of meat, onions, and Cheez Whiz. It’s juicy, tasty, and filling—with just the right amount of lip-smacking oil. To give the thing some girth, and much needed veggies, add mushrooms, pickles, and bell pepper. Grab a generous order of the hot and crispy cheese fries or Jalapeño Heat Dirty deli style chips, and wash it all down with an ice-cold Hank’s Black Cherry soda.

BATTLE ROYALE
A New York chopped cheese or a Philly cheesesteak blossoms and, ultimately, thrives on the simple fact that it is made hot and fast and served fresh and gooey. The elements of each item melt into a larger mass that then finds its initial home inside a great bun before making its way down into your comfort-food-craving tummy.
Great munchies remind us that for a few fleeting seconds the right combination of substances and seasoning can hold back almost any tidal wave of loss. Listen, we all know that time wins every duel. So, the next best question we are faced with is how will you choose to fill the time in between now and the final bell? If you’re asking me, I can say with a pretty high level of confidence that, along the way, having a baker’s dozen of Philly cheesesteaks from Boo’s or the similar amount of New York chopped cheese will only enhance your time on this planet.
TWISTED SISTERS
All the treadmills in the world stacked up like the Watts Towers or, say, an endless river of hothouse yoga, will never get you closer to the divine than these pair of twisted sisters. If pressed, I’d say the chopped cheese is just a touch lighter but, as we all have come to see, lightness isn’t always the answer. Sometimes the only way out of a dark place is to go even heavier, and embrace the heft of Boo’s righteously traditional Philly cheesesteak. Go big or go home.
Either way you go, it will taste like.... Victory.
Boo's Philly:
4501 Fountain Ave., Los Angeles, CA 90029
3377 Wilshire Blvd., Los Angeles, CA 90010
New York Chopped Cheese:
1471 Tamarind Ave., Los Angeles, CA 90028
5109 Venice Blvd., Los Angeles, CA 90019
DID YOU KNOW?
The Philly cheesesteak was born in 1930 by Italian-American Pat Olivieri, a hot-dog vendor in South Philly. One afternoon, Olivieri was in the mood for something a little different and asked his brother to go to their butcher and order some scraps of beef instead of the usual wiener sausages. Olivieri grilled up the beef with some onions at his cart and scooped it into a hot-dog bun. A passing cab driver was intrigued and asked for the same thing. After wolfing it down he said to Olivieri, “Hey… forget ’bout those hot dogs, you should sell these.”