Skip the Cheesesteak: Philadelphia’s Roast Pork Sandwich
If you are an American, or even an English-speaking citizen of some other country in the world who has a passing familiarity with American culture, such as it is, you have probably heard of the Philadelphia cheesesteak sandwich. You may even know some of the lore surrounding them–how there is an artificially hyped rivalry between the 2 cheesesteak restaurants situated opposite each other on the narrow corners of 9th and Passyunk in South Philly, at the south end of the Italian Market. The common lore states that the cheesesteak was invented in the early 1930s at Pat’s, when Pat Olivieri got bored of the hot dogs his cart was selling and tossed some grilled bits of beef scraps and onion into a hot dog bun instead, intriguing a passing cabbie. The cheese would not make an appearance in the sandwich until some time later, and the rivalry would not develop until 1966, when Geno’s opened.
But ask any Philadelphian who makes their favorite cheesesteak and you are unlikely in the extreme to hear either Pat’s or Geno’s. In fact, ask a Philadelphian what their favorite sandwich is and you might be surprised how few of them answer cheesesteak at all. Philadelphia is a city known for its sandwiches; Sandwich City, USA as my friend Titus calls it. Years ago I wrote a piece about a minor but popular sandwich from the Philadelphia area called the Schmitter and I referred to it as Philadelphia’s Other, Other Sandwich. To tell the truth, I should have put a few more “Others” in that title, as the Schmitter falls further down the list than my initial estimate. There’s the cheesesteak, of course, beloved and world-famous but perhaps not every Philadelphian’s favorite; the hoagie, bordering on an obsession among many Philadelphians, with many, many web pages dedicated to listing the best versions in and around Philadelphia; and the many inspired sandwiches available in public markets like the Reading Terminal Market and South Philly’s Italian Market, site of George’s Sandwich Shop, one of the inspirations for the documentary Sandwiches That You Will Like.
But what many Philadelphians will claim as their favorite–or even less subjectively, will claim is the best sandwich Philadelphia has to offer–is the Roast Pork sandwich. When Pat Olivieri was still slinging hot dogs, before he ever thought to throw beef and onions on a griddle and well before he opened his storied stand at 9th and Passyunk, Domenico Bucci, an Italian from Abruzzo, was leasing a shack in the Baltimore & Ohio railyards a mile southeast of there, cooking pork roasts daily, slicing them thin, and stuffing them into hoagie rolls to sell to the railroad workers. Like the cheesesteak, this roast pork sandwich had not yet evolved into its ultimate form–cheese and sauteed greens would be added to the sandwich decades later by Domenico’s son John, for whom his stand was named: John’s Roast Pork.
I was able to visit Philadelphia about a year ago and made it to John’s Roast Pork to try their namesake sandwich, and it was every bit as good as people claim. The pork is sliced thin, tender and dripping with juices; the braised greens–John’s uses spinach, though other stands have embraced broccoli rabe instead of the spinach, or as an alternative–are garlicky with a little bite of dried chili flakes, vegetal and mildly bitter; and the sharp provolone, used sparingly in comparison to the cheesesteak, since the flavor of this cheese could easily overwhelm both the pork and spinach, is salty and firm, not a natural melter but softened considerably under the sandwich’s pile of hot pork and greens and their juices, with the sour/bitter funk of an aged cheese. All this is contained well by the terrific hoagie rolls supplied by Carangi Baking Company nearby, crusty, a little chewy, but surprisingly light for how sturdy they are.
I would also be remiss not to mention that John’s Roast Pork serves the best cheesesteak I’ve had in Philadelphia as well.
Many cheesesteak stands around the city also offer the roast pork sandwich, but John’s is not the only stand that specializes in it. Tommy Dinic’s Roast Pork has been selling the sandwiches in Reading Terminal Market since the 1950s, and their take on the roast pork sandwich, using broccoli rabe instead of spinach, has not only been called the best sandwich in Philadelphia but, at least by Adam Richman, the Best Sandwich In America.
I was able to try their take on the sandwich on the same trip to Philadelphia when I visited John’s Roast Pork, and it was also an oustanding sandwich with a great balance of the deeply pork and cheese against the bitterness of the greens, though less fully stuffed than the John’s Roast Pork version and on bread that, while still good in the way Philadelphia bread is almost universally terrific, seemingly less notable than the bread at John’s.
On a previous trip to Philadelphia, after discovering that John’s Roast Pork was not open on Sundays, I found a now-defunct place nearby called Charlie’s Roast Pork that also made a good version of this sandwich, and a decent cheesesteak as well.
Mindy and I have our own long history with the sandwich as well. Long before I ever had a sandwich website, Mindy found a recipe for the Philadelphia-style roast pork sandwich with broccoli rabe and sharp provolone and made it at our old home in Quincy, which we moved out of in 2006. Neither of us recalls exactly how she learned of it–it wasn’t the Adam Richman show I mentioned earlier, which aired in 2012, or his previous show Man vs. Food, which featured it in 2009. It wasn’t the Marc Summers show Best Thing I Ever Ate, which featured the Tony Luke’s version of the sandwich in a 2010 episode called Regional Favorites. Maybe she read about it on eGullet or another foodie forum, or maybe it was in one of our many, many cookbooks.
But I’ve made the sandwich a time or two myself, notably this porchetta-based version of it, with pork belly wrapped around loin, rubbed with salt and garlic and herbs and roasted hard until the pork belly skin was crisp and blistered. I served this for our son Max’s high school graduation in 2018, with the requisite sauteed broccoli rabe and sharp provolone in homemade loaves of Ciabatta Polesana.
But this time I wanted to make the sandwich as I’d experienced it in Philadelphia, as they serve it at John’s Roast Pork, or rather, as they serve it at every other place that uses broccoli rabe instead of spinach. This is the process I followed
Philadelphia-style roast pork sandwiches
Ingredients
Stock
- 2 lb pork neckbones
- 2 lb pork hocks
- 4 qt water
- 1 onion skin on, quartered
- 2 carrots unpeeled, roughly chopped
- 2 stalks celery roughly chopped (with leaves)
- 1 bay leaf
- salt and pepper
Roast
- 1 pork butt (7-8 pounds) butterflied
- 1 bulb garlic split into cloves, paper removed
- 2 tbsp fennel seeds
- 1 tbsp fresh rosemary minced
- 1 tbsp fresh thyme minced
- 1 tbsp oregano
- 2 tbsp sea salt
- 1/4 cup Extra Virgin Olive Oil
- 2 yellow onions cut in half, skin on
- 2 heads garlic cut in half, paper on
- olive oil
Greens
- 2 tbsp Extra Virgin Olive Oil
- 2 bundles broccoli rabe (about 1.5 pounds)
- 6 cloves garlic minced
- 1.5 tsp red pepper flakes
- 1 cup reserved pork stock or a bit more if needed
- salt and pepper
Sandwich
- Sharp provolone cheese
- Good quality hoagie rolls, with or without sesame seeds
- pork and stock (see above)
- greens (see above)
- Italian long hot peppers, sauteed in olive oil optional
Instructions
Stock
- Preheat oven to 425° F
- Season the pork hocks and neckbones with salt and pepper. Arrange in a single layer on a baking sheet. Roast for 25-30 minutes, long enough to brown the surface well.
- Remove the pork from the baking sheet to a stockpot and add remaining ingredients. Bring to a low simmer.
- Place the baking sheet across 2 burners on low heat and ladle on some of the liquid from the stockpot to deglaze. Scrape back into the stockpot.
- Simmer on low for 6-12 hours, until a rich gelatinous stock is formed.
Pork Roast
- Add fennel seeds to a molcajete and grind to a rough powder
- Add garlic and salt and mash into a paste
- Add remaining herbs and olive oil and mix well into an herby, garlicky slather.
- Lay the butterflied pork butt flat on a rack over a baking sheet. Rub the slather all over both sides. Leave flat and uncovered and refrigerate overnight.
- Preheat oven to 400 degrees
- Roll the pork butt in such a way that the prevailing grain of the meat will run parallel to the long axis of the rolled pork. Truss tightly with butcher's twine.
- Add a thin layer of olive oil to the bottom of a roasting pan and heat over two burners on the stove set to medium. Add pork, two halved onions (cut sides down), and 2 halved garlic cloves (cut sides down). Heat, moving to get heat to each element, until the onions and garlic and pork have browned on the bottoms, 10-15 minutes.
- Add enough stock to come halfway up the sides of the roast with no danger of overflowing the roasting pan. Turn off burners and move to middle rack of the oven.
- After 30 minutes, turn oven down to 350 degrees. Roast until the pork's interior measures 165° F, 3-3.5 hours, basting with the stock every 30 minutes or so and topping off with reserved stock as necessary.
- Remove from heat and rest. Chill pork for several hours or overnight. Filter and reserve stock.
Greens
- Remove the tough, fibrous ends of the broccoli stalks, 1-2 inches from each
- In a stockpot, reheat the reserved pork stock on the stove. (Might as well reheat it all, not just what you need for this step–you'll want it when building the sandwiches)
- Heat olive oil in a pan big enough for the broccoli rabe (like most greens it will shrink as it cooks)
- Add broccoli, garlic, and red pepper flakes to pan and toss to coat. Season with salt and papper.
- Add a ladle or two of the reserved pork stock (which should be hot at this point–see sandwich instructions below). Cover the pan briefly and let the steam wilt the broccoli rabe. Once the volume of the broccoli has gone down, remove the lid and cook until the stock reduces to almost nothing.
Sandwich
- Preheat the oven to 350° F
- The reserved pork stock should still be at a low simmer on the stove from making the greens.
- Slice the chilled pork as thinly as possible. A deli slicer will be helpful here but do your best if working with a knife.
- Reheat the sliced pork in the pot of pork stock. Don't leave it in there too long but long enough for the stock to start simmering around the edges again.
- Split a sesame roll lengthwise, leaving a hinge along one side.
- Line each side of the bread with sharp provolone. Using sliced is more convenient but it might be difficult to get the good stuff sliced so shred it if you must.
- Place the roll(s) on a baking sheet in the oven for a few minutes–just long enough to melt the cheese or at least get it to stick to the bread.
- Add a generous portion of the reheated pork to one side of the roll and a thick layer of greens to the other. Add a long hot or two if you want it spicy.
- Ladle in a bit more reserved stock if desired, close the sandwich and wrap tightly in butcher paper to allow the flavors to mingle.
- Serve immediately.
The sandwich has 4 main components:
Pork
I based my recipe on several that I read online, including the Serious Eats take on the sandwich, which calls for a braise rather than a straight roast. Having watched several videos of the pros making their sandwiches, it does not appear to me that that is how they are doing it. However, from what I can tell they do all reheat the sliced pork in its own gravy. To me, there really isn’t a better way to build a delicious stock for reheating thin slices of roast meat than by doing a wet roast or braise in that stock. If it works for Chicago’s Italian Beef, it’ll work for Philadelphia’s Roast Pork, right?
After chilling the meat overnight, I reheated it in the stock just long enough to get it piping hot for serving.
Cheese
Sharp provolone is a much different cheese than the standard mild provolone many of my American readers will be familiar with. I’ve had limited success finding a good quality sharp provolone that I can get sliced for sandwiches from my local delis–the American versions available for slicing at a supermarket deli don’t have the funky edge that the imported versions do, but many Italian delis don’t want to slice the nicer imported provolones, only sell larger chunks by weight.
I reached out to Jim Graziano at J.P. Graziano and asked his advice, since some of his best sandwiches (e.g., the Mr. G and the muffaletta, not to mention the customized version of their Italian sub that I often order there) use sharp provolone. According to Jim, the standard sharp provolone used on their sandwiches is a Bel Gioso imported provolone, and it really is terrific. But I went in a few days later and Jim’s GM Shaun helped me sample 2 different sharp provolones head-to-head, the Bel Gioso and an even sharper imported provolone Aurichio Provolone Piccante, and the latter was the clear winner for me, intense, salty, funky, with a cutting, almost chemical pungency attacking the sides of the tongue like tiny needles.
I came home with probably a little too much of that cheese for this purpose. But Christmas is coming, and there will always be a use for good cheese around the holidays. A big thank you to Shaun and Jimmy and DeAna and the rest of our friends at J.P. Graziano for the assist on this one!
Greens
John’s Roast Pork, who started this ball rolling, uses spinach in their sandwich… but every other place seems to use broccoli rabe, and that’s how I was introduced to the sandwich, and it’s how I like the sandwich. The day may come when I use spinach instead, a green that I am very fond of… but today is not that day.
The broccoli rabe is also braised with some of the pork stock after being briefly sauteed with garlic and chili pepper flakes, and cooked down until the pan is mostly dry and the color of the greens has gone from a bright and vibrant green to something more like week-old bagged lawn clippings. They may not be pretty… but they are delicious.
Bread
Here is where the wheels could very conceivably come off this bus. Philadelphia just has great bread. Unbelievable bread. Even the hot dog buns are unbelievably good, from the long-standing established places like Johnny’s Red Hots to a street cart posted up at a random corner on South Street one afternoon. The buns, in fact, were better than the hot dogs deserved, but elevated those sausages by the sheet quality of the bread. Every stand in the Italian Market boasted a display of outstanding sesame-studded baguette-length hoagie rolls like the ones below
It’s not that Chicago doesn’t have good bread. Chicago has great bread as well. But as I’ve often said, a great sandwich doesn’t necessarily start with great bread–it starts with the right bread, and I wasn’t sure I knew where to get a good hoagie roll that’s a bit crisp and chewy, sturdy but still light the way the bread in Philadelphia seems to be. Last fall, my friend Billy (he of the Tripping Billy pizza pop-ups that have been happening all around Chicago and the Giardiniera Salsa collaboration with Caruso’s Provisions) posted the following brief video of himself making a cheesesteak and the bread intrigued me.
When I asked Billy where he got the bread, he told me that it came from Pete’s Fresh Market, a small local chain of grocery stores in the Chicago area. Well either the bakery at my nearby Pete’s isn’t as good as the one near him or I haven’t found the right bread yet.
But this is what we have, and this is what we’re rolling with.
Building the Sandwich
Some descriptions of the sandwich prep will have you assemble the sandwich with the cheese unmelted, and ladle some of the hot pork stock, or “gravy” as they call it (much like the beef stock at an Italian beef joint in Chicago is called gravy), over the pork before wrapping the sandwich, so that the hot gravy will help melt the cheese. However, the more aged the cheese, the more difficult it is to melt, as you can see in the last picture of this sandwich below.
Wrapping the sandwich in paper does help a bit, as it allows the hot gravy to steam-heat the cheese a bit. However, you can still see the cheese in a distinct layer in the photo below, not fully melted.
I prefer to put the bread and cheese into a hot oven for just a couple minutes, just enough to soften the cheese and crisp up the bread a bit. I also prefer to add a long hot pepper (or two) to the sandwich before wrapping it up
This doesn’t match what I’ve had in Philadelphia… but if I could find the right bread, I’d be in the neighborhood.
I like sandwiches.
I like a lot of other things too but sandwiches are pretty great
Have you had J.T.’s version yet? Probably won’t live up to your Philly ideals but still remains my favorite sandwich that I can grab almost anytime. Happy to meet you there for a few sandwiches one day.
Hi Michael! I bought it for Mindy once and managed to sneak a bite, it’s great! But I’d be happy to meet up with you at J.T.’s sometime, that sounds perfect! Maybe after the holidays? I do end up on the North side many weekends looking for provisions for these posts