I am grumpy today. Super Grumpy. Grump up the Volume type grumpy. I want to do the Grumpty Grump type grumpy. To try to ward off the grumps, I headed to John’s Roast Pork, where I went once before and had the sandwich the place is named after. Word on the street is they have a pretty damn good cheesteak, and this felt like a cheesesteak eatin’ day. (The Mac Dad’ll make you grump, grump. Just thought of that one. Sorry.) Well, I got one and it was, well, OK. The bread was great, the thing was gooey, but I dunno. Maybe my heart wasn’t in it, maybe trying to locate my oomph in a cheesesteak was a bit too tall of an order. But I just felt like it didn’t have that extra intangible that I find at Jim’s. (Forrest Grump.) Don’t get me wrong, I’ll be back at John’s in the near future. But I’ll be returning to the roast pork, which is easily of the best sandwiches I’ve ever had in the city.
Related: Pic courtesy of hollyeats, a great food website that loves this place.
