How can a sandwich named after Philadelphia made by a New York-inspired deli in Chattanooga remind me of Los Angeles?
I know it sounds crazy. Just let me explain.
First and foremost, if you’re in any city outside of the five boroughs (sorry, Yonkers), never, ever allow yourself to be bamboozled by the “New York-style” gimmick. It’s unlikely to compare to the crispy, yet flimsy slice from Scarr’s Pizza on Orchard Street in New York.
As a dedicated and passionate eater, I’ve long accepted the fact that I have to go straight to the source to avoid being disappointed. I realized that it’s my fault if I order a “Calabash-style” flounder platter from a restaurant in Bozeman, Montana, and it doesn’t taste like Beck’s, a restaurant in the actual city of Calabash, North Carolina, that many credit with introducing Calabash-style seafood to the masses. It’s not supposed to.