Taylor Gourmet rolls into the cheesesteak business

By Tim Carman,September 13, 2011

PHILADELPHIA — The early September rain feels like it’s flash-freezing skin on contact as Casey Patten stands outside Philip’s Steaks, a sliver of a sandwich shop in the south end of town. The co-owner of Washington-based Taylor Gourmet and his director of operations, Robert Coppock, are waiting for their cheesesteak order in a steady drizzle as the temperature drops and the winds rise at this open-air stand. There are definitely easier — and warmer — ways to secure lunch.

But this is not lunch. Not unless you’re the kind who requires multiple feedings in one afternoon. The Philip’s stopover is the fourth in a five-site marathon tour of Philly cheesesteak joints. Patten, 31, and his business partner, David Mazza, 33, have returned to their hometown turf to conduct bread recon. They want to glean a few secrets from Philly’s beloved sandwich stands in hopes of developing their own rolls for Taylor Charles Steak & Ice, the partners’ cheese­steak shop scheduled to open in December at 1320 H St. NE.

This is not an idle mission. Ask any reputable — or even semi-reputable — Philly cheesesteak purveyor, and they’ll tell you the bread is paramount in a properly made sandwich. The soft, pliable and surprisingly sturdy roll can’t be easily replaced, at least not without a good tongue lashing from a cheesesteak snob (which is not a contradiction in terms). Patten and Mazza understand the roll’s importance, which is why after having found suppliers for almost every other ingredient in their cheesesteak, they’re still futz­ing with the bread.

To help with the intelligence-gathering, the guys have dragged Alan Hakimi to Philly. He is the Iranian-born, American-raised owner of Lyon Bakery, a District-based wholesale bread operation that supplies Taberna del Alabardero, Busboys & Poets and even Taylor Gourmet (the baker has developed a custom hoagie roll for the small chain). Hakimi, unfortunately, missed the Philip’s run. Mazza and Hakimi, riding in a separate vehicle, got their signals crossed and ended up at Steve’s Prince of Steaks, where they were warm and dry in the climate-controlled confines of the northeast Philly shop.

Not that it mattered much. Hakimi would later taste the roll that Philip’s uses. It’s a D’Ambrosio Bakery roll, a thinner, browner and slightly crustier bread than those used at Pat’s King of Steaks, Tony Luke’s or Geno’s Steaks, perhaps the three most famous cheesesteak outlets here (and all stops in our fat-fest). Patten digs the D’Ambrosio roll at Philip’s. He likes its sturdiness and absorption: its ability, in other words, to ferry the moisture-laden contents of a cheesesteak without turning to mush.

But mostly Patten likes the D’Ambrosio roll’s chewiness, or elasticity. Patten is big on elasticity. Twice, the Taylor owner invites Hakimi to pull the other end of a small piece of cheesesteak roll, in a kind of curbside tug-of-war, to demonstrate a bread’s taffylike properties.

“One of the texture components that has to be right, since you’re doing sandwiches, is the bread,” says Patten. “That elasticity and pull and chew that you get along with the meat . . . to me, that’s part of the textural component of the cheesesteak.”

Hakimi’s role in this cheese­steak gorging is straightforward: He must learn what Mazza and Patten want in a roll and then try to reproduce it for the forthcoming Taylor Charles (a name that combines the owners’ middle names). And yet Hakimi’s role is also rather comical. This is a 43-year-old man who has trained with master bakers from around the country; he knows how to separate the wheat from the chaff when it comes to analyzing good bread, and now he’s being asked to re-create a squishy, poorly developed commercial roll that, in his estimation, is total junk. His assignment is tantamount to hiring Daniel Boulud to prepare Kraft mac ’n’ cheese.

But Hakimi is a pro. He knows he’s not here for his opinions about cheesesteak bread. He’s here for his ability to deliver products to a client. The baker admits that he likes the challenge and, perhaps more to the point, he likes the high-volume business of producing Italian rolls for Taylor (which at present can run to 1,100 a day). “The only people I’ve [created a specialty bread] for is them,” Hakimi says. “I actually like them. They’re nice guys.”

The next morning, Hakimi and the rest of Team Taylor arrive at D’Ambrosio Bakery, where another piece of the puzzle clicks into place. They confirm what they had already suspected: that steam — lots and lots of steam — plays a significant role in the roll’s texture, chew and appearance. An employee readily spills this information when Patten and Mazza pose as potential customers. They never introduce Hakimi as their hired-gun breadmaker.

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