6 juicy Philly cheesesteak tales, from babies to funerals

The rest of the world may associate cheesesteaks with Philadelphia, but in Philly, we associate them with memories, milestones, and traditions.

Here, cheesesteaks aren’t just a meal, they’re an entrenched part of our culture. Like the city itself, the cheesesteak is unpretentious, kind of messy, and will come at you the way you come at it. Scarf one down, and a cheesesteak could give you heartburn, savor and appreciate it, and it will offer you a warm comfort you may have never before known.

When a food item becomes so ubiquitous in a city it’s nearly impossible to escape, it’s only natural for people to form sentimental attachments and core memories around it. In conjunction with The Inquirer’s Cheesesteak Bracket, we asked for people’s best cheesesteak stories and memories.

From birth to death — and everything in between — here are six juicy and cheesy tales that illustrate the pull and power of cheesesteaks to those who know and love them.

Old-school dads measured their children’s growth with rulers and notches on door frames, but computer programmer and cool dad Brad Williams is a lot more wit it. He uses a system called “Cheesesteak for Scale” to measure his son’s growth.

When Williams, now 42, of Dresher, brought home a cheesesteak in 2015 and noticed it was about the same size as his 2-week-old son, Lucas, he took a picture for scale and shared it with family and friends. The photo was such a hit he decided to make it a tradition. Every month for the first year of Lucas’ life, he got a cheesesteak and used it to measure his son’s growth.

Though Dalessandro’s is Williams’ favorite, he used a variety of cheesesteaks as measuring tools, which is perhaps the only imperfection in this nearly perfect scientific measuring system.

When Lucas turned 1, the tradition moved to an annual basis. But something unexpected happened when he began eating solid foods — Lucas’ family discovered he didn’t like cheesesteaks.

At age 7, Lucas is now more than four cheesesteaks tall.

“And he still doesn’t like them,” Williams said.

Matt Albertson was a senior at Bloomsburg University in 2011 when he and his friends concocted a gastronomical road trip across Pennsylvania called “Sandwich Quest,” the likes of which may have never before been seen.

The goal: to eat a sandwich from Primanti Bros. in Pittsburgh and a cheesesteak from Pat’s King of Steaks in Philly within 24 hours.

Albertson and four of his friends left Bloomsburg at 2 a.m. in a Dodge Charger and drove more than 200 miles to Pittsburgh to eat a Primanti’s sandwich, before driving another 200 miles to Harrisburg, where they stopped to get gas and eat at the Jackson House.

From Harrisburg, they logged 100-plus miles to Delaware County, where they went to Nifty Fifty’s for milkshakes before grabbing a quick nap.

After waking, the Sandwich Quest crew went to DiNic’s Roast Pork in Reading Terminal Market and then ended their crusade with cheesesteaks at Pat’s around 10 p.m.

“Ambitious and stupid, but we achieved our goal,” Albertson, 34, of Havertown, said. “It was college, so our metabolisms were good.”

When Chanae Richards, 40, of Germantown, was a senior at Temple University, her sweetheart came to Philly to visit one weekend. He’d recently stopped being vegan and wanted to try a cheesesteak, so Richards took him to her favorite spot, Max’s Steaks.

“I ordered for us both since we have similar tastes,” she said. “Basically, I ordered mine and told them to just give me two of the same.”

When the couple got home, Richard’s boyfriend unpacked the bag, let out a huge laugh, and said, “This cheesesteak is for you,” before handing her one of the two.

“I was confused because they were exactly the same … or so I thought,” Richards said. “The one ‘for me’ had the following written in marker … Call Kyle for a good time: 267.xxx.xxxx.”

Richards said she and her partner still laugh about it to this day.

“I always remind him how handsome he is and that Kyle’s message could have been for either of us,” she said. “We’ll never know.”

John Raisch learned how to make cheesesteaks while working the grill at Joseph’s Pizza in Fox Chase as a high school and college student in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s.

“At that time, Joseph’s OWNED the market for cheesesteaks,” he said. “We’d make thousands of cheesesteaks on a Friday or a Saturday night. It was a sight to behold.”

When Raisch’s in-laws would visit from Maryland for Christmas, his mother-in-law would always request a “steak and cheese.”

“That phrasing drove me nuts,” he said. “So one year at Christmas I had enough and I decided from then on we would always do cheesesteaks when they were in town for the holidays.”

Instead of buying cheesesteaks, Raisch made them himself. It quickly became a tradition and for the last 15 years, the Raisch family has dined on homemade cheesesteaks for Christmas dinner.

Raisch, 50, of Wyncote, buys his steak at Joe’s Meat Market in Glenside, makes his cheesesteaks wit or witout, and offers both cooper sharp cheese and Kraft Cheez Whiz.

“There’s this running joke in my family. When we talk of me retiring someday, I say I will either be slicing lunch meat in the Sea Isle City Acme or I’ll be back behind the grill making cheesesteaks where it all started,” he said.

Philly food and travel writer Iris McCarthy, author of the Food Lovers’ Guide to Philadelphia, had a cheesesteak experience straight out of a Pixar movie.

McCarthy, 44, of Manayunk, was eating outside with her then-boyfriend at Shank’s Original in 2015 when they offered a passing rat a piece of one of their cheesesteaks. McCarthy said the rat refused it and scurried away.

“We followed him all the way to John’s [Roast Pork] where the three of us happily ate,” she said. “It was like Philly-style Ratatouille.”

Before Richard Lussi died in 2017, he told his family he wanted to be buried with one of his favorite things in the world — a cheesesteak from Pat’s King of Steaks.

Lussi, 76, of Plains Township, told his relatives the cheesesteak should be wiz witout “‘no onions because they’ll come back to haunt me,’ ” his grandson, Dominic Lussi, told The Inquirer in 2017.

A day before his grandfather’s funeral, Dominic Lussi, his dad, John, and two of John’s friends drove to Philly, ate cheesesteaks at Pat’s, and brought two home to put in their patriarch’s coffin the next day.

Why two? Because Richard Lussi — who used to challenge his family to take spur-of-the-moment, 100-mile-plus road trips from Luzerne County to Pat’s — had one simple rule: You don’t drive down for one cheesesteak, you must get at least two.

After Richard Lussi’s viewing, his son and grandson placed the bag of cheesesteaks in his coffin by his hand, and he was buried with them in Plains Township.

Nearly six years later, Dominic Lussi, 30, of Bloomsburg, said his family has no regrets and they still make road trips to Pat’s in his grandpa’s honor.

“Now that I’m married and I have a kid, every year when we hang the Christmas tree up we hang a picture of my grandpa up on the tree and we hang a cheesesteak ornament up next to his picture,” he said.

When asked if they ever think about the state of the cheesesteaks in the coffin now, Lussi quoted his uncle.

“ ‘Both cheesesteaks are either long gone or he’s taking his forever nibbles,’ ” Lussi said.

Love cheesesteaks? Don’t forget to fill out our Cheesesteak Bracket to determine which shop makes the best in the area.