THE FOOD SECTION | Jacksonville cheesesteak tour: Which of the 4 comes out on top?

Whether you prefer to think of this country as a melting pot or a salad bowl, the consequences for food writers are the same. As new arrivals introduce their native cuisines to the local mix, restaurant critics are obliged to learn about the dishes that define them.

For example, in the wake of Jacksonville gaining its first Indian restaurant in 1985 (Shalimar, located in a compact strip mall on Arlington Road), non-Indian staff writers at The Florida Times-Union scampered to familiarize themselves with chai, samosas and tandoori chicken.

“Diners are served complimentary dishes of vivid red-orange relish called chutney that comes with a wafer-thin lentil bread called papadam,” one reviewer explained in his 1991 assessment of Bombay Tandoor.

Nowadays, it’s assumed that food writers working in big Southern cities have a tight grasp on Indian cookery, along with cuisines spanning from Mexico to Malaysia. Until recently, though, they didn’t have professional reason to know the first thing about cheesesteaks.

The massive influx of Northeasterners is by far the biggest demographic and gastronomic shift in this region since I started writing about restaurants in Asheville, North Carolina, roughly 20 years ago. According to U.S. Census data, 1.17 million Americans have relocated to the Southern Coastal Plains—an ecoregion which stretches from Myrtle Beach, South Carolina, to West Palm Beach—since 2020.

Although they didn’t all come carrying cheesesteaks, they didn’t leave their taste for them behind. Cheesesteak counters are opening across the Southeast at a fast clip, and restaurants already in the cheesesteak business are welcoming the new crop of customers with open arms (or the Philly equivalent.)

In Jacksonville, online chatter about which area cheesesteak outshines the rest has snowballed since Big Al’s Cheesesteaks opened in Arlington last September. Of course, I felt compelled to issue a verdict too. But I’m at the “relish called chutney” stage of my cheesesteak education, so I asked a pair of experts for a crash course in the subject before I set out to sample the sandwiches cited most frequently in local “best cheesesteak” convos.

What I discovered right away was I needed to pay extra attention to the non-titular component.

“The big thing is always the bread,” instructed Bradford Pearson, who as editor of Philadelphia magazine last year oversaw the production of a 13-page cheesesteak spread. “It needs to be able to hold up to the weight and wetness of the meat and cheese: A little chew. Most places fail at this.”

Pearson’s dismissal of the majority of cheesesteak merchants qualifies as diplomatic, since he skirted the current fight in cheesesteak circles. “The imbroglio in the cheesesteak world is the outgrowth of the new style pioneered by Angelo’s, which is the crusty seeded roll versus the classic, squishy, fade-into-the-background roll,” explained Adam Erace, a Philadelphia contributor who wrote about the bread debate and latter-day embrace of Cooper Sharp cheese. (On Dec. 30, Big Al’s posted an Instagram reel devoted to the ivory-hued block.)

Armed with the advice of my brothers in food writing, I was ready to start evaluating. But there was one last lesson awaiting me at the city’s wiz-wit parlors. Namely, Jacksonville’s cheesesteaks aren’t informed chiefly by what’s happened historically in Philadelphia, nor what’s happening there now (which, according to the magazine, could involve berbere, guacamole or seitan, depending on which shop you patronize.)

Instead, it appears it’s the surging cost of beef that’s front of mind for First Coast purveyors. Along my tour, I encountered stingy portions of meat, as well as meat that tasted as though it was purchased for an attractive price. But I also found one exceptional sandwich that didn’t seem to be on speaking terms with moderation.

I couldn’t possibly get to every Jacksonville area outlet with a cheesesteak on its menu, so I limited my focus to five highly lauded places in a swath from Downtown to Jacksonville Beach. (For a rough guide to the boundaries of my search, just picture a cheesesteak.)

Unfortunately, New York Food Shack was closed when I stopped by—an employee of Home Depot in Normandy, where the truck is permanently parked, told me its owner keeps an erratic schedule—so I had to scratch it from the list.

Eddis & Sons

Of the sandwich shops I visited, none flaunted their Northern pride more flagrantly than Eddis & Sons, the popular extension of a former food truck. I’m not sure where comment cards were posted in Eddis’ mobile era, but the current restaurant’s walls are plastered in scrawled salutes to the Eagles and customers’ hometowns. As such, I suspect patrons privately worry they’ll put their Philly bona fides in doubt if they don’t loudly proclaim Eddis & Sons’ superiority. With no cred to defend, I can say the fresh Amoroso roll is standout, but the bread-to-meat ratio tilts too far in its favor.

6426 Bowden Road, Jacksonville | 904-333-1400 | eddisandsons.com

Surfwiches

So far as I can tell, there’s just one thing wrong with the cheesesteak at Surfwiches, a scrappy Jacksonville Beach beer bar: If I hadn’t ordered the sandwich myself, I’d be hard pressed to identify it as a cheesesteak. Between the beef’s seasoning and textural demeanor, you could have fooled me into thinking it was sold as a horizontal hamburger, with what’s presumably Cooper’s Sharp applied in patches. Again, not a bad lunch. But if what I sampled was representative of what’s won various local “Best Cheesesteak” certificates, it has a slight aroma of category fraud.

1537 Penman Road, Jacksonville Beach | 904-241-6996 | surfwiches.com

Big Al’s Cheesesteaks

Since opening in September 2025, Big Al’s has become such a social media sensation that an influencer recently posted a video referring to the restaurant as a “local icon.” Its primary claim to cheesesteak fame—besides the requisite Amoroso rolls and Cooper cheese—is the signature sandwich’s size, illustrated on TikTok and Instagram by eaters holding wrapped subs alongside their arms. I’m not quite five feet tall, so even my iPhone nearly extends from my wrist to my elbow, but the burly guys online seem impressed by a cheesesteak brushing their biceps. On the minus side, that adds up to 18 inches of oily meat to finish.

1350 University Blvd. N., Jacksonville | 904-367-2132 | bigalscheesesteaks.com

D&LP Subs

If all cheesesteaks tasted like what’s served at D&LP Subs, I’d eat my way to expertise pretty darn fast. In short—which this gloriously abundant sandwich is not—the folks at D&LP have nailed every canonical cheesesteak component. At Chris Lewis and Dan D’Ambrosio’s lively counter-service pizzeria, the soft roll has just enough toasty crunch to contrast with the lithe chopped meat tucked within it. As for that meat, it tastes wholly and deeply of beef, a feat achieved by exploiting the sweetness of onions and power of salt. In other words, D&LP unlocked the true meaning of cheesesteaks for me by providing something to fight for.

1409 Third St. S., Jacksonville Beach | 904-247-4700 | dlpsubs.com