Today we tackle one of America’s most significant contributions to the world of food-gasms, the Cheesesteak. Which brings us to Mr. Elbert Cuenca.
Mr. Cuenca, whom we shall henceforth address us Elbert because I feel like I’ve known him a long time1, is the proud proprietor of Elbert’s Cheesesteaks in Rockwell Power Plant Mall.
The first thing you will notice about Elbert’s Cheesesteak is that the sign is in neon pink. This shouldn’t shock you, as Elbert enjoys an interesting collection socks in every color you can imagine. See what I did there? More to come.
The menu is pretty straightforward, as Elbert is an avid Mac user, and we’re known for our love of simple, elegant things2. The thing is idiot-proof; I mean, you decide how much beef you want, whether you want vegetables with it, then what cheese you want along with it. How much simpler does it get?
I went for the Regular Cheesesteak with Provolone, which came in a somewhat larger portion than the vegetable-laden hoagie. I know that traditionally, cheesesteaks were made with only Cheez-Whiz, but I am a cultured, sophisticated man who enjoys the finer things in life. Also, I think provolone sounds funny. “Provolone.” Snort.
So the cheesesteak came. The bread was warm, and quite… sturdy, which I like. I bit into it, and FUCKING NIRVANA. Spank my ass and call me a monkey, but the thing was fantastic3. The beef, the provolone, the white onions, everything came together spectacularly. I looked around at my friends and I could tell that they were all going through the same epicurean wonderment. We locked eyes, and we knew. This was our cheesesteak covenant, the Holy Grail, Israel, and Graceland, all rolled into one. Right there and then, I knew I’d be eating here a lot.
Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, we were called to pick up the fries. I so was lost in deep, meaningful conversation with my cheesesteak that I completely forgot we ordered fries with those4. I was already halfway through my ‘steak, and I didn’t really want to interrupt the truly amazing experience I was having, but I knew I had to write a review for the fries as well, so I grabbed a hot handful and stuffed them in my mouth5.
Two things came to mind. One, THIS SHIT IS FUCKING AWESOME! Two, THIS SHIT FUCKING HOT!!
The fries were freshly cooked! The only thing I like better than french fries are fresh fries6, and these were it. The potatoes were crisp, with just the right saltiness to really complement the cheesesteaks. Everything was just, well, really good! I wish there were a better way to say it, but that pretty much sums it up perfectly. It was a really good meal, which I washed down with some Sola.
And then, we were done. The rest of the night was a blur, but right before getting into my Subaru Forrester7, I seriously considered going back and getting a cheesesteak for the road. And I did.