The brick-and-mortar shop on Avenue A in Manhattan’s East Village opened in January to much fanfare and 1½-hour-long lines. This followed their Instagram-popular food truck pop-ups in New York and Las Vegas.
As Billy Penn’s resident New Yorker, I was tasked to give it a go. So, how’s the chow?
There was no Bradley hooking up the steaks, unfortunately. But a busy hive of staff behind the counter served up sandwiches within 10 minutes. I picked up the football-length box and opened up my meaty treasure. Here’s what I found.
A crusty but soft seeded semolina hoagie roll, made in house, holds grilled shaved ribeye and onions, coated in melted Cooper Sharp American cheese, which come together in a sizable sandwich system.
The pickled sweet or hot peppers are buyer’s-choice and come on the side, providing some acid that cuts through the yummy mixture packed within. A sum greater than its parts.
For the traditional among us, it’s not your typical Geno’s or Pat’s beef, onions, whiz on a soft hoagie roll.
Danny & Coop’s cheesesteak comes with grilled shaved ribeye, sautéed onions, and cooper sharp american cheese on a house-made semolina hoagie roll. (Leo Miranda/WHYY)
“In my opinion, obviously the cheesesteak has changed a lot since even in the last 10, 20 years,” said Amanda Marie Barr, a local food influencer who runs the Instagram account “phillyfoodandbarrs”.
Caramelized onions are in, Cooper Sharp American cheese is favored over yellow American or whiz, and more attention is being paid to the role of the roll, said Barr. She prefers the textured, seeded rolls, like her Philly favorite, the “Don Cheech’s Steak” at Cafe Carmela in Northeast Philly.
Now, everyone copies Angelo’s, she said.
“Pat’s and Geno’s might be the originator of the traditional OG Philly cheesesteak, but Angelo’s is definitely the father of what the cheesesteak is today,” said Barr. “[Pat’s and Geno’s] are the originator of the sandwich and no matter what, a 2 a.m. cheesesteak is still a 2 a.m. cheesesteak.”
The Verdict
I dined on my Danny and Coop’s while standing at a shallow wooden bar that lines both sides of the narrow shop, its one-item menu chalked onto a dark brick wall.
The two-hander sandwich was stacked high with savory, seasoned steak, onions and cheese — enough for a duo looking for a light meal or one hungry hippo. I was the hippo, and happily gobbled away. I chose the sweet peppers, a complementary clean burst of flavor. Satisfied, I licked my fingers clean.
The menu at Danny & Coop’s has just one item — Cheesesteaks — plus soda and water. (Leo Miranda/WHYY)
Eating next to me was Eugene Thong, who was strolling through the neighborhood before seeing his wife perform in a ballet and decided to give the buzzy cheesesteak shop a try.
“I’m weird: I’m not a whiz guy,” said the jiu-jitsu instructor from Queens who lived in Philly for a few years. Taking a sizable bite, he said he liked Danny & Coop’s no-whiz approach, although he favored the softer bread he remembers from his Philly days.
He added that he’s a bit of a foodie and that if he was in the neighborhood, he’d come again.
Even at $20, “It’s cheaper than a train ticket to Philly,” said Thong.
Should you try it? Well, if you found yourself near the shop — only open on afternoons Friday through Sunday — like Thong, and needed something succulent and satisfying to fill you up before meeting friends for drinks, try splitting a Danny & Coop’s.
Or eat it solo. But you may want to take a Verdauungsspaziergang — German for a post-meal walk to promote digestion — before sitting down.