Doggy Dining: Jimmy G's Steaks

Two polar vortices ago, our fam needed to cure some pretty bad hangovers.  A night of friends and too much wine was forcing us into the kind of misery that can only be cured by grease.  It comes along only once in a while, and that Saturday the craving for a cheesesteak was there.

When a new cheesesteak joint pops up, it's met with skepticism in Philadelphia.  The greatest cheesesteaks in Philly are legendary and have staked (see what I did there) their claim on the city decades ago.  That said, in times of distress convenience trumps reputation and so our venture to Jimmy G's steaks began.

An order of a cheesesteak (American w/ onions) and french fries was placed.  While we waited for our food we helped ourselves to sides of the array of peppers and pickles available to all customers no charge. After a short time our food was ready, our names were called, and we were ready to indulge.  

Despite the chilly weather, we were able to dine outside which meant that Harry was able to join us.  The outdoor area is enclosed during the winter months and kept warm with portable heaters.  The foo and I sat across from each other on red picnic tables while Harry sat at the head enamored of our spread.

Jimmy G's steak was up to par.  Featuring chopped steak rather than the tear through it with your teeth type at Pat's, it was easy to eat with just enough grease and cheese melted throughout.  The french fries were hot, crispy, and thick cut graced with perfect saltiness.  Normally a cheesesteak lunch isn't about decadence, but facing the hangover and the stomach bug I was about to get in just 4 hours, this was the most decadent experience I had the entire week.  Happily I engorged myself while Harry stared.

The cheeseteak cured my hangover, but it couldn't cure nor was it the cause of the GI fury that was took over the rest of my weekend.  Jimmy G's was not only a steak to be revisited, it was the gleaming, radioactive, surging highlight of a terrible 48 hours.