Monk's Deli

Nobody ever thinks of Delaware when they say "cheesesteak." Forgive them—they don't know nothing. The Mid-Atlantic's best-loved sandwich travels downstream on the Pepsi-sugared waters of the mighty Delaware River, down the valley from Philadelphia through Camden, N.J., where Walt Whitman died, and into Wilmington and Newark. A guy rolled up to Monk's Deli food cart with the words "Newark, Delaware," and sandwich slinger Andrew Heckcrote gave him a buck off, just for knowing what's what. Because that's where he's from.

The cheesesteak comes on appropriately rubbery Italian hoagie bread, complete with neon-orange Whiz ($8.50) if that's who you are. Instead, get it with white American cheese ($8) that's melted until you can hardly see it. The steak just looks like a pile of wet shredded beef and fried onions (wit' is a default here) until you bite into goopy American richness, with more umami per square inch than MSG and ketchup combined. The presentation is strictly old-school minimalist, and the meat tastes like the grill itself, like something you should be getting from a bodega no bigger than the cart after six Yuenglings and a Bud Light. Which is to say, it's heaven.

Sure there's a serviceable pressed and seared Cubano ($9) that's basically a hammed-up grilled cheese with pickles and mustard. There's also a nice version of that great South Philly special, a pork tenderloin ($8.50) loaded with earthy broccoli rabe greens (although he is currently subbing spinach). Still, each of these sandwiches has a rendition you might better get elsewhere in the neighborhood, at Hawthorne's El Cubo de Cuba or Stark Street's Italian Market, respectively. But at Monk's, the cheesesteak stands alone. 

EAT: Monk's Deli, Southeast 43rd Avenue and Belmont Street, 302-545-0708. 11:30 am-8 pm Wednesday-Monday.

WWeek 2015