By Jonathan Yackel

I crisscrossed the packed streets, struggling to find parking near restaurants at noon on a Sunday.  I was looking forward to my trip to Pop’s Market on East Grace Street in downtown Richmond all week, and, due to the many reviews online claiming the sandwiches were incredibly filling, I brought an empty stomach. 

I eventually found a parking lot and proceeded to spend 15 minutes figuring out how to pay a whole eight dollars for parking in the city on a broken machine. Highway robbery. Unfazed, I continued my quest. The sun was shining, and I exited the parking lot with a smile on my face, ready to make the short, two-block trek to the café. On my way, I walked by the Richmond-Times Dispatch office and felt a wave of journalistic inspiration flow through me. Notepad in hand, I was ready to review.

It turns out, higher powers had different plans for my afternoon. 

My excitement faltered as I walked up to what was supposed to be the restaurant I was writing about. While all the other cafés and pubs on the block were bustling with activity and lines onto the sidewalk, the shopfront of Pop’s Market was dark. 

Funny, I thought, as I walked up to the door. I had checked the operating times on Apple Maps and knew they were open. I quickly pulled up the address on my phone. “Open Sunday 11:00 A.M. – 4:00 p.m.” it read. It was currently 1:27 p.m., and the doors were locked. The chairs were on top of the tables. A sign on the door read, Hours: 11-4:00 Mon-Fri. 

I sank to my knees, eyes filled with tears.¹

My stomach demanded sustenance, but, more importantly, my editor, Upper School English teacher and Match advisor Vlastik Svab, demanded a draft for a review of a restaurant. Tears streamed down my face² as I pulled my phone out, again, to email my teacher, informing him of my defeat. As I put the finishing touches on an email admitting my failure, a revolutionary thought crossed my mind. 

What if, instead of reviewing Pop’s Market, I chose a different restaurant?

I quickly looked around. People streamed in and out of the sit-down restaurant around me. Definitely not my style. This place needed to be fast, nearby, and, most importantly, open.

Quickly deleting the email, I opened up Apple Maps and searched the word “restaurant.” I scrolled down the list of establishments near me, letting the growling of my stomach guide my choice. It was hungry for a Philly cheesesteak.

The outside of Str8 Out of Philly Cafe.

Roughly a 10-minute walk from Pop’s Market, Str8 Out of Philly, at 405 North 1st Street, was a place I would have never expected to find myself. The storefront has two doors, covered with security bars, and a window simply advertising “Cheesesteaks & Hoagies.”

The inside of Str8OutofPhilly.

I tried pulling open the door, excited to fill my yearning for delicious food. Of course, it was a push door. Immediately humbled, I walked into the small room. “Let Me Love You” by Mario was coming from a speaker in the corner of the room. I was immediately welcomed by the owner of the store, who also was the cashier and cook. Slowly taking in my surroundings, I felt comforted. Just from the first impression, I could tell this food was genuine. The shop was bustling. Being in the restaurant felt like seeing an old friend who smells like cheesesteaks. It was foreign, but I definitely was intrigued by the delicious smell of steak being fried from the back of the store. 

The first thing I noticed was two 10-foot menus on the wall, detailing all the sandwiches sold. The store offered cheesesteaks with provolone, pepper jack, and white American. There were also other various selections, including Buffalo chicken cheesesteaks, fries, salmon cheesesteaks, and even a vegan cheesesteak. 

All of the options Str8OutofPhilly offers.

I walked up to the owner and ordered a limeade, chocolate chip cookie, and a half cheesesteak with hot peppers, salt, pepper, and fried onions. I wanted the fully Philly experience. 

While waiting for my food, I struck up a conversation with the owner. He told me he opened the shop this May and was from Philly.

In the restaurant, there are two signs reading, “Please be patient. Str8OutofPhilly creates good food. Not fast food!”

The food came out in roughly five minutes, however. I’d say it was fast. I pulled out my half cheesesteak.

I forgot to mention the other sign that read, “Half-steaks: 12’ Giant-steaks: 24’”

The sandwich was the size of my arm. The smell of warm cheese, steak, and cooked peppers made my stomach growl with anticipation. I quickly snapped some pictures of the monster and flipped my notepad open to a new page, ready to write. 

A limeade with a half cheesesteak.

So, did the sandwich live up to the expectations placed on it by the sign?

Absolutely. The first bite was the perfect mix of melted cheese and steak, with a slight crunch of fried onions and peppers that made me say, “Oh my God.” The bread, which is shipped from Philadelphia, tasted like a baguette from France. Easy to tear off, with a slight crunch of the crust. None of the bites were dry, and it tasted exactly like a cheesesteak should, warming you up from your stomach. 

The first cheesesteak was created in Philadelphia in the early 1930s, when hotdog stand owners tried to create a new type of sandwich, using chopped beef and grilled onions. It was an instant hit. One of the owners, Pat Oliveri, had so much success with the product that he opened his own restaurant called “Pat’s King of Steaks,” which still operates today. The cheese was eventually added later on, but now food establishments refer to the sandwich as a Philly Cheesesteak, as an homage to the city where the meal was created. 

I easily devoured my sandwich and turned my attention to the limeade. Poured for me in a styrofoam cup, I took a sip of the green liquid. If the owner had told me he had blended a lime and poured sugar into my cup, I would have believed him. It tasted slightly syrupy, like a lime slushie. Personally, I enjoyed the sweetness of the drink; however, some may think it was too sweet. Every sip left me wanting more.

Str8OutofPhilly’s chocolate chip cookie.

Finally, for dessert, I laid my eyes on the cookie. I thought nothing could top the meal I just had, but this chocolate chip cookie was the perfect final course. It was so delicious, in fact, that I forgot to take a picture of it before taking multiple bites. This tiny shop had mastered the art of the slightly crisp edge, with the entire center being soft. It reminded me of cookies at grandma’s house, if my grandma was a world-class cookie baker. It wasn’t too sweet, with a slight hint of salt. I think it is safe to say that it was one of the best cookies I have ever had.

I left the store fully content with my meal. This incredible food had made me forget about my encounters only an hour prior and gave me that post-Thanksgiving dinner feeling, where you know you ate too much but loved every bite of food. Totally worth it, in my opinion. I walked back to my car and thought about the first bite of cheesesteak for the rest of the day. I can still remember the perfect texture of the bread.

So, do I recommend Str8OutofPhilly?

Yes. 100%. 10/10. 5 Michelin Stars. I told my friends and family about the magnificent cheesesteak. I fully give my recommendation to anyone willing to go for some Philadelphia cuisine or try food that is different from the usual Richmond cooking. I can not speak highly enough about the sandwiches Str8OutofPhilly makes.

All photos by Jonathan Yackel.

1: This didn’t actually happen.

2: Still didn’t happen.