Jim's Steaks (PA - Philadelphia, South Street)

As the wedding neared and more friends arrived in town on Saturday, we regaled them with our tales of cheese steak glory the prior evening at Pat's King of Steaks. Encouraged by our success, but wanting to test the hypothesis that Pat's was the definitive cheese steak, we made a sport of asking everyone who would listen where their favorite cheese steak came from.

We soon realized that this was the same as asking people in Baltimore where to go for crabs. Everyone has their own waterman or dive bar that they think serves up the best crabs, but nobody will send a tourist there, so everyone says, "Obrycki's," or, "Bo Brooks."

After a deafening chorus of, "Pat's," and, "Geno's," someone finally said, "Jim's." Everyone wheeled on them and asked, "Where?" and, "Why?"

Before long, we hatched a plan to do a brief walking tour of the area around the old State House culminating on South Street at Jim's. That would give us exactly one hour to run back to the hotel, shower and change before the wedding. The girls protested slightly, so we built in some shopping time on South Street as a concession and struck a deal.

When we arrived at Jim's, there was a line out the front door and around the corner. We quickly joined the queue and positioned ourselves under the grill exhaust, where we stood under a waterfall of air perfumed with fry grease, beef fat and caramelizing onions.

After a half an hour, we had wound our way to the front of the line, where we were met by the jovial line cooks. Unlike the angry, gruff woman at Pat's, these guys were joking, having fun, teasing the customers and still cranking out tons of cheese steaks.

The second major difference between Pat's and Jim's is that almost half of the customers at Jim's ordered Provolone, not Wiz. To melt the Provolone, the guys at Jim's lay the cheese on top of the steak, while it is still on the griddle and then lay the roll on top of it, open-faced. With a deft flick of the wrist, they slide a spatula underneath and flip the entire concoction upside down and onto your plate.

Having had the benefit of watching countless steaks made before my eyes while I waited in line, I knew why Provolone was so popular - Jim's is stingy with the Wiz.

With that in mind, while my wife ordered a "wiz wit," I ordered a, "double wiz wit." All of my friends stared back in confusion, as if, "double wiz wit," were Glossolalia.

We collected our steaks, ordered beers (the third major difference between Pat's and Jim's) and headed upstairs to feast.

Technically speaking, Jim's steaks were nearly identical to Pat's. The only major difference is that at Jim's, they slice the cheese steaks in half, which makes them slightly more manageable that at Pat's. Jim's may also be slightly larger than Pat's, but the difference is negligible.

If you compare wiz wit to wiz wit, Pat's is slightly better, owing to a better ratio of cheese to meat and bread and the fact that their rolls were a bit fresher. Jim's miserly wiz portions and slightly stale bread were big strikes against it. This put my wife squarely in the Pat's camp.

However, if you compare Jim's double wiz wit to Pat's wiz wit, I think you will find that Jim's comes out on top. The melted wiz, fat and jus stream out of the sandwich, roll across the palm of your hand and pool in the wrapper. Towards the end of each half, you can drag the end of the roll through the pooled liquid like a poor man's French dip. By contrast, without the double wiz, Jim's steaks can be a little dry.

I also think the friendly service and liquor license at Jim's help put it on top. Let's face it - cheese steaks were meant to be enjoyed with a beer, not a diet coke.

We emerged from Jim's, fat, happy and realizing that in addition to showering, we needed to burn our clothes because they would forever reek of onions.

So, there you have it - a split decision. I vote for a double wiz wit at Jim's, while my wife votes for the straight up wiz wit at Pat's.

We will demand a recount in December when we return to the City of Brotherly Love for the Army / Navy football game.