What we discovered was a rarity in second-generation owner John Bucci Jr.: a cook who knows what to do with a griddle, who plays the searing hot spots and cooler regions of his flat-top like a virtuoso. Frying each batch of meat and onions to order, deftly seasoning his steaks, strategically crumbling and folding his cheese into the middle, Bucci packed the marvelous seeded rolls from Carangi Baking Co. with nearly a pound of explosive flavors.
At the picnic tables outside, we took three bites and knew: Little John's had taken all three categories by unanimous decision. The traditional cheesesteak was a cosmic flow of meat and molten American cheese. The steak with sauteed spinach and salty aged provolone lit our palates. The chicken steak - usually the dieter's penance - was as succulent as anything we tasted, and even better with a dark streak of sausage-infused red gravy.
"Wow ... "
"This meat tastes so ... "
"I'm bringing my dad ... "
Their words kept disappearing into the sandwiches.
The catch is that John's grill is open only weekdays and only until 2:30 p.m. Wait too long after noon, and those seeded rolls will be gone, too.
"You gotta come early, kid," John Jr.'s mother, Vonda, told me curtly from behind the register. "We're dedicated here to the working man."
After I had eaten half I almost threw in the towel. Thank God my friends were there to save me. 'You wussy, eat the rest of your steak!' they shouted. Ten minutes later, I lay sprawled along the back seat of Jeff's car, reminiscing about the steak while falling asleep. -- Andy Shore's cheesesteak diary
By the end of our odyssey, my students had honed their skills to the point where, by merely opening a sandwich and inhaling its aroma, they knew whether it was worthy.
"I'm not going to eat that," said Andy the moment we dropped a floppy, five-pound "belly filler" from Larry's Famous Steaks on the table.
He was right, of course; this steak was a kitchen-sink mess.
Josh Brawer, too, had refined his tastes - even his dad had to admit that his son had "learned a lot. ... Go figure!" David Brawer also says their conversations now incorporate the nuances of steak shop talk. "I've never really been into talking about sports," David said, "but this has kind of taken the place of it."
But for these friends, going in search of the great cheesesteak, it turns out, was always about more than the consumption of an ultimate sandwich.
"For Josh and his buddies," said David Brawer, "I think it represented freedom. To be able to pile into the car and go to places that were, if not taboo, beyond the reach of parental control."
That thrill of adventure may explain, at least in part, their frequent lunch-hour visits to unfamiliar neighborhoods in the city.
It may be no coincidence that their final steak frenzy came in the weeks before their departure for college. Josh, Andy and Jeffrey were heading off to Penn State, while Tommy was going to the University of Michigan.
Sure, they passed their senior project. Their teachers were "impressed," Josh Brawer said, "that we actually learned something."
But it was also as if making the summer rounds of their favorite steakeries was finally cementing their roots in place. No one expressed this better than Tommy, the only one going out of state. He wrote in his cheesesteak journal:
I have known the true greatness of Cheese Whiz mixed with fried onions and fried-up steak, because I have Philly running through my veins (along with lots of cholesterol). ... Now that I am about to head out to the Midwest for college, only now that I am leaving the world of cheesesteaks behind, can I reflect on how lucky I was.
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