It started with The Stylistics — specifically, their 1975 single “Can’t Give You Anything (But My Love).”
“I was so surprised,” Kosuke Chujo recalled his reaction as a junior high school student in Tokyo hearing the song for the first time; the soaring trumpet intro sparking his ongoing love for the Philadelphia Sound, and a fascination with the city itself.
Decades later, Kosuke has guided the latter into a career with his bar and restaurant Philly, which he runs with his wife, Tomomi, out of his parents’ former printing house in the Nihonbashi business district of Tokyo.
The two-story venue — its walls heavily lined with Philadelphia sports mascot plushies, SEPTA maps, album covers, and tags by travelers from every Philly neighborhood plus the broader Delco area — isn’t the only spot in Tokyo to grab a cheesesteak, but it’s managed to gain an active following, partly due to the Chujos’ enthusiasm, and well-documented, meticulous research: over the course of two trips to Philly since 2021, the couple has sampled, ranked, measured, and weighed cheesesteaks from a range of establishments, even interviewing Philadelphians on their preferences — cheese, toppings, seeded vs. plain rolls — on an endless quest for authenticity.
It’s a far cry from the admitted guesswork that went into their first cheesesteaks, introduced to the menu in 2013, two years after Kosuke opened Philly as a Western-style Italian restaurant.
“They weren’t similar to the cheesesteaks from Philly,” Tomomi said of their initial attempts, “because we hadn’t yet had any cheesesteaks from Philly.” Gleaning what they could off social media and working with what they had, their take at the time consisted of teriyaki-flavored beef in a soft French baguette, covered in a basil-cheddar cheese sauce.
Reactions were mixed. Japanese customers, unfamiliar with the concept and expecting a cheese-slathered cut of beef, initially kept their distance until the couple began including cheesesteaks in meal deals and party-menus, slowly boosting exposure to increasingly positive reviews.
Patrons either from or familiar with the Philadelphia area, on the other hand, “did not like it very much, and they did not come to the restaurant again,” Tomomi said. Four years in, it was dropped from the menu.
When the Chujos finally made it to Philadelphia in 2021 and had their first cheesesteak, “we were surprised by how different it was,” Tomomi said, “particularly the bread.” They took some sample rolls back to Tokyo, but couldn’t find a local bakery that would attempt to recreate them.
“Japanese flour,” Tomomi explained, “is completely different from what you use in the U.S.” Cheese was a similar challenge, with both whiz and Kosuke’s preference, Cooper Sharp, unavailable in Japan.
Six months of kitchen experimentation followed, fueled by hours of YouTube tutorials. The result: a house-made whiz substitute Kosuke’s concocted using a variety of cheeses, flour, butter, and milk, with Tomomi now baking anywhere between 30 to 50 rolls a day on site.
Launched in 2022, the retooled cheesesteak received positive feedback from locals, expats, and tourists alike, to the point that “we were worried people were just being nice,” Tomomi said. The Chujos returned to Philly earlier this year for further research, and will be back for a mid-August stretch starting this week.
“We feel happy when we connect with the people of Philadelphia,” Kosuke said. “And, I want to convey a [sense] of Philadelphia to the Japanese.”
For the upcoming visit, Tomomi will be exploring bakeries across the city in search of the “perfect bread…and also studying tomato pies, soft pretzels, and water ice.” Kosuke, guided by a local DJ he’s been in contact with, plans on delving deeper into Philly’s music scene, while continuing his own culinary research. He tells Billy Penn he’s planning on adding a wagyu cheesesteak to Philly’s menu in the coming months.
So, when all is said and done, how does the Chujos’ cheesesteak rank? For someone who’s not a food reviewer and didn’t necessarily have cheesesteaks on a Tokyo trip itinerary, stopping in at Nihonbashi Philly turned out to be a pleasant surprise.
At ¥2,380 ($16 at time of publishing), Philly’s is a satisfyingly hefty offering, meeting Kosuke’s researched average of 22.11 ounces and 9.64 inches (“since we’re serving Japanese customers, I considered making it smaller,” he said, but ultimately opted for authenticity).
The ribeye meat is finely chopped, courtesy of an Eagles-branded spatula, tender and acceptably greasy, and the house-whiz adds a richer-than-expected flavor, with a texture satisfyingly between the runniness and rubberiness frequent in more authentic versions. The attention to detail is clearest in the rolls, picture-perfect, firm enough to keep things from turning soggy, and with a decent pull without becoming too chewy.
In short, if Philly had a Philly location, it would be an easy recommendation. For cheesesteak enthusiasts who happen to find themselves in Tokyo, it’s probably already on your list, and for good reason.
(Except for the headline, this story has not been edited by PostX News and is published from a syndicated feed.)
