History unwrapped: ‘Philadelphia Sandwiches’ goes behind the scenes of a local saga

It takes a true food historian who’s passionate about his subject to wade into the world of Philadelphia sandwich history. Fortunately for readers, Philadelphia-area author Mike Madaio is the writer for the job.

The Chicken Lorenzo, from A Cut Above in Newtown Square, Pa. | PHOTOS BY MIKE MADAIO

His new book, “A History of Philadelphia Sandwiches,” ventures with authority into the sandwich saga, and unwraps some tasty slices of history that readers and Italian Americans in the region will find irresistible.

The title actually sells the book short, because the book is much more than a history. Madaio has assembled a tapestry that blends meticulous research, original and archival photographs, social science and cultural themes, all knitted together by an insightful chronological narrative.

Meatball parmigiana sandwich from Angelo’s Pizzeria South Philly.

“There is something different, ineffable even, about Philadelphia that other places just can’t claim,” Madaio writes in his introduction. “It’s unlikely that this stems from one specific factor; rather, it comes from a combination of many forces – including industrialization, a neighborhood-based culture, a strong street food scene and immigrant culinary traditions – all leading to a perfect storm of sandwich perfection.”

The author fondly recalls growing up in a family where vastedda sandwiches were served after midnight Mass. Today sandwiches are a Christmas breakfast tradition in his home, served with plenty of discussion about whether they had the right rolls or the right cheese.

Italian hoagie from DiCostanza’s in Boothwyn, Pa. The shop doesn’t offer lettuce.

“The fact that my Italian-American family – who always held food traditions in the highest esteem – could value a sandwich this much only served to further my personal belief that sandwiches are as important as any other foodstuff,” he writes.

Starting with Philadelphia hot dog pioneer Abraham Levis (who first appeared on the scene circa 1890s) and continuing through the rise of the hoagie in the 1930s and the ascendancy of the cheesesteak and the modern-day sandwich sadness that occurs at convenience stores like Wawa and Sheetz, “A History of Philadelphia Sandwiches” is a meaty saga with much hidden history to chew on.

The Old Italian from Primo Hoagies.

Along the way, readers will meet a gallery of sandwich pioneers and artisans, including Leonard Kravitz, Domenico Bucci, Tommy Luke, Anthony Milano, James Vento, Gaetano Nicolosi, Al DePalma, Emilio and Antoinette Iannelli, and many more.

The book also pays long-due homage to overlooked sandwich creations such as the chicken cutlet Italiano from Shank’s Original, a mouthwatering assemblage that Esquire magazine in 2008 declared the top morning-after sandwich in the world, and which Philly chef Georges Perrier awarded a perfect score in a 2010 competition.

Chicken cutlet Italiano with spinach from Shank’s Original in Philadelphia.

Perhaps the best parts of Madaio’s book are the unexpected nuggets and intriguing tales he finds in the nooks and crannies of history. Among them:

Hoagie origins
Madaio (and others) trace the name of the sandwich to Hog Island, a massive World War I-era shipyard on the Delaware River that at its height employed 36,000 workers. Their lunch, the story goes, was often long loaves of Italian bread filled with cold meat and came to be known as “hoggies,” which evolved into “hoagies.” A chain of shops belonging to Al DePalma, self-styled “king of the hoggies,” helped catapult the sandwich and cement the name into Philly posterity.

Hoagie construction
A common variation is the “Delco meat wrap” style, where vegetables are wrapped inside the cold cuts, resulting in the meat layer appearing through the opening of the roll.

“Per the name, this format is associated with – but not limited to – Delaware County, just outside of Philadelphia,” Madaio explains. “Fans argue this ingenuity keeps the sandwich together and creates a better meat-to-vegetable ratio in each bite, while opponents find these hoagies aesthetically displeasing and difficult to eat.”

Hold the mayo

“Mayonnaise is probably the strictest hoagie rule; simply put, it has no place on the Philadelphia Italian,” he writes. “On a turkey or roast beef hoagie, sure, mayo is fine. But on an Italian, only olive oil is acceptable, though today, many places – even in Philly – use an inferior olive oil and vegetable oil blend.”

Cheesesteak origins
Pat Olivieri ran a hot dog stand across the street from the future home of Pat’s King of Steaks. Tired of eating hot dogs, the story goes, he bought some trimmings from a butcher shop and cooked them on the hot dog grill. He gave half a sandwich to a hungry cab driver, who suggested Pat was in the wrong business. Accounts differ on whether Pat used a hot dog roll or two slices of bread.

Why the Whiz?
With his business up and running in the 1950s, Pat Olivieri embraced the processed cheese product because putting real cheese on the same grill as meat would not have been kosher, and he worried about his Jewish customers.

While Madaio is not the first food writer to assay this sort of territory, it’s hard to imagine any before him applying such rigorous method to their research. The book is copiously indexed, and includes more than 500 footnotes that document his source material, much of which came from personal interviews and phone calls with the sandwich purveyors and their families. His efforts there may be the last chance for some of their voices to be heard.

Madaio is a food and wine writer whose career began with the creation of Main Line Dine, a popular restaurant and dining blog covering the Philadelphia suburbs, and his writing has appeared in publications such
as Wine Enthusiast, VinePair and Edible Philly.

Writer Al Kemp is the managing editor of the Delaware Valley Italian-American Herald. Email him at akemp@todaymediainc.com