The first thing to know about cheese steaks in Philly is that how you order them is very important, and for the newcomer it can be very stressful. Gigi's brother likes to say "You can still get a provincial level of service in Seattle" and if that's true than ordering a cheese steak in Philly is the exact opposite experience. At the more popular places the lines can get long and the burden is on the customer to quickly and accurately place their order. Hence the warning at another famous joint, Geno's Steaks, "If you make a mistake [when placing your order], just go to the back of the line and start over." However, once you get the hang of it it's pretty simple. There's no need to say you're ordering a cheese steak, and if you did you'd just say "steak." Instead, you just start with the cheese of your choice: whiz, american, or provolone. Then, if you want onions you say "wit," as in "with onions," which leads to the favorite way for natives to order their steaks, "wiz wit.'" Then for good measure you add on your requests for peppers or mushrooms.

So ordering at Jim's is a little like ordering from the soup nazi from Seinfeld; technically easy but still stressful. Except the employees at Jim's don't yell at you when you mess up, they just silently glare at you. While this all probably sounds a little unpleasant, there are two mitigating factors. First, it adds to the whole atmosphere by creating a subculture of sandwich ordering. Once you figure it out you feel like you're king of the world. Until you screw up and tell them it's "to go" instead of "for here" like I did. Second, this strict approach has to be understood within the context of Philly as a SERIOUS sandwich town. As Liza and Chris discovered you can get a pretty awesome italian sandwich with salami, cappicola, and prusciutto at any of those crappy corner mini-marts that on the west coast are only used for dire ATM emergencies and cigarettes. And your sandwich will not only be made with care but it'll be swaddled so tight you'd think you were walking out of the joint with the baby Jesus under your arm. So that's the thing really: the staff at Jim's, like the rest of the city, aren't surly they're just really into sandwiches. Well, some of them are pretty surly. Gigi's actually made it a mission of hers to get the toughest of the bunch to smile one day. The dude's gotta a jaw that could be used to break up concrete. I don't think it's gonna happen for her.

What we love about Jim's is the quality of the meat -- sliced thin and then chopped up on the grill. One would expect that the meat would be cheap but it's surprisingly good and really the key to the success of the sandwich. Since you order from the guy working the grill you get to watch it cook up right in front of you. And if you order whiz then you get to watch him dip into a massive can of cheese whiz with a big rectangular metal spatula and slap a nice glob of processed "cheese-food" onto your bread. Gigi and I prefer American to the Whiz or "wiz.". We find the wiz sinks into the bread too much. Provolone is also tasty, but to my mind it's a little high-falutin' for a cheese steak. American is a perfect balance culturally between provolone and the whiz.

After all that, the only real important decision left is what to drink. Cheap American beer goes quite nicely, of course. However, I have to say I've become a convert to Dr. Brown's Black Cherry as the perfect accompaniment to a cheesesteak. It's got the perfect amount of zesty sweetness to play off the meaty, cheesy, grilled flavor of the steak. And I think they just look good together: