I love the Reddit threads about cheesesteak. For a non-Philadelphian, it’s gloriously devoid of stress. I feel safe here. Above the fray. I am merely interested. Occasionally amused.

As a New Yorker, a species oft maligned for its small but insufferably outspoken militia of self-proclaimed pizza experts, it’s enjoyable to see that other cities have their own versions, people who police the local delicacy, each ready to die on their own personal hills.

“Pat’s!”

“Geno’s!”

“F*** Pat’s and f*** Geno’s. Amen.”

Then there are the nuanced statements.

“A cheesesteak with mushrooms or peppers is still a cheesesteak, but adding pizza sauce changes the character of the sandwich sufficiently that I think they should be considered distinct foodstuffs.” (I like this guy.)

And unapologetic confessions.

“I like mayo on cheesesteaks. Since I can remember. Provolone, with mayo. This is flagrantly in violation of the rules, and I’m here to own up to it.”

Big Dave’s on-counter “size chart.” (Amy Drew Thompson/Orlando Sentinel)

I am above all this, I think, until I am tucking into a sandwich at Big Dave’s Cheesesteaks in Oviedo and Biggie whispers that the guy behind me is eating his cheesesteak with a knife and fork. I do not turn around. It’s something I won’t be able to un-see, like how my boyfriend feels about “The Exorcist.”

All of a sudden, I realize, my own set of cheesesteak rules — rules I have no business even having — seems to be materializing. But I can’t help it. Cheesesteaks, to me, are a multisensory experience.

First off, to a culinary hedonist, they look like a zillion artery-clogging bucks — shiny, fatty meat with flattop-crisped edges layered in with creamy, melty cheese (commonly accepted varieties include white American [hard emphasis on Cooper Sharp], Cheez Whiz and provolone).

Philly tradition: You can smell it at LaSpada’s

Then there is the soft roll, which all at once expands to fit the filling that the grill cook trowels in like so much lipid-laden spackle, then magically contracts to form a strange sort of seal, turning something that should have almost no structural integrity into that which can only be torn asunder by ripping into it the way a bear does a live salmon.

Cheesesteaks have a smell that is beyond delicious, but so pungent that any amount of time spent in a place like La Spada’s, an Orlando favorite, means you will smell like a cheesesteak for a reasonable portion of the day. Possibly all of it. Even if you order a cold hoagie to go. At Big Dave’s, however, there are no cold hoagie options.

Everything is cheesesteak. Even the egg rolls.

Banana pudding, says the menu, is founder Derrick Hayes’ mom’s recipe. (Amy Drew Thompson/Orlando Sentinel)

The only exception is the water ice (pronounced “wooder”) and a banana pudding based on founder and West Philadelphia native Derrick Hayes’ mom’s recipe. The story goes that Hayes, who spent a lot of time with his granddad in the kitchen growing up, at some point moved to Atlanta, where he found the cheesesteak options lacking.

Inspired, he opened a small operation in a Dunwoody gas station and named it for his late father: Dave’s Philly Water Ice. And when fellow Philadelphian, rapper/actress Eve, came in for a cheesesteak while shooting a project in town, she liked what she found and blew the place up.

A name change ensued, and now Big Dave’s Cheesesteaks has multiple locations in Georgia, one in North Carolina and a few right here in the metro, including a spot inside the Kia Center, with more on the way.

Big Dave’s Cheesesteaks was founded in 2014 in a Georgia gas station. The Atlanta-based chain now has four locations in Georgia, one in North Carolina and a couple in Central Florida with more to come soon. (Amy Drew Thompson/Orlando Sentinel)

More places for Orlando’s cheesesteak fans to get their hands dirty, which is how both Deli Fresh Threads founder and sandwich pro Anthony “Biggie” Bencomo and I feel about the proper way to consume a cheesesteak, but ultimately, of course, folks should do whatever makes them happy.

“It was like an accident or something,” Biggie tells me later of watching the knife-and-forker go to town. “I couldn’t look away.”

I, on the other hand, was happy to focus on the task at greasy hand: attacking my cut of the 6-inch Dave’s Way cheesesteak ($12), cheerily recommended by the manager as his favorite. This one is non-trad for a lot of Philadelphians, adding mushrooms, both sweet peppers and tangy banana peppers to the mix, and employing all three cheeses, as well.

Fear not, they’ve got the basic meat/cheese/optional onion for the unforgiving traditionalists. I thought I was one, too, but dang if the vinegar in those peppers doesn’t hit in all that cheese.

Anthony “Biggie” Bencomo of Deli Fresh Threads plays pretzel peek-a-boo at Big Dave’s Cheesesteaks in Oviedo. (Amy Drew Thompson/Orlando Sentinel)

Speaking of, I was skeptical. Cooper Sharp is my preferred. Provolone is No. 2. But, I’ve never been a Whiz person. That said, I’ll try anything once.

And both Biggie and I were glad we did.

“I would definitely eat this again,” he said of the Dave’s Way. “The cheeses are a good blend, not too much of any of them, and it was a very packed sandwich that held up.”

Like all the sandwich offerings here, the Dave’s Way was cooked to order and comes in three sizes: 6-inch, 9-inch and 18-inch.

While a serious discussion of this requires a great deal of adolescent humor suppression, Biggie and I managed. Mostly.

Skeptical Pennsylvanians, the manager told us, were won over when Big Dave’s brought Philly Pretzel Factory pretzels into the menu mix. Notably, they are half-off during their Monday-Thursday happy hours (3-5 p.m. and 9-11 p.m.). The beer’s half off, too. (Amy Drew Thompson/Orlando Sentinel)

Some folks in various local foodie threads, and people I’d asked before going, griped a bit over Big Dave’s prices, which they felt were high, but splitting one of those 18-inch monsters will actually afford dining pairs and trios a discount. (For instance, three people sharing the largest can eat what is essentially a 6-inch cheesesteak for $2 each off the a la carte price). Grab some fries, crinkly and crisp, and you’re good to go.

The extra joy is that it comes wrapped, even if you’re dining in.

I’m a firm believer that a wrapped cheesesteak makes the best cheesesteak. Swaddled and cozy, the pressure seems to give ingredients time to flavor-meld, for the “glue” of that cheese-meets-bread chemistry to set up. Days later, I grabbed up two 6-inch sandwiches (beef, American, onions) on a BOGO special for $12. No complaints. And that wrap had that copious filling tucked tight in the roll. It didn’t budge when I held it precariously vertical.

“It’s almost like a warm hug,” Biggie agrees. “There’s got to be a science to it. No offense to the places that don’t wrap when you’re dining in, but it makes me want to order it to go to get the benefits, then rewrap any leftovers to take home.”

2025 Orlando Sentinel Foodie Awards: Best Sandwich

The manager, who couldn’t have been nicer, found Biggie’s “Cheesesteak” T-shirt amusing, noting that many Pennsylvanians had been in to check their cred since the place opened in April. Some actually avoided the place, he says, until they added Philly Pretzel Factory pretzels to the mix.

“Then they felt like we had to be legit,” he says.

There was one thing on the menu we both felt like we had to try, weird as it seemed: the salmon cheesesteak.

We asked the cook for advice on the order and sampled a 6-inch with Cooper Sharp and onions.

I am of the school that says lobster mac and cheese is less than the sum of its parts, so I was definitely a doubter. But I came away convinced.

The filling is something like tuna casserole, but better. The cheese didn’t overwhelm, the flavor was salmon forward, and the seasoning couldn’t have been better: impressively peppery with a nice hit of Old Bay. I should note, the beef cheesesteak had expert-level seasoning, as well.

Salmon cheesesteak with the grill cook-recommended onions and Cooper Sharp cheese. I honestly did not expect to like this as much as I did. (Amy Drew Thompson/Orlando Sentinel)

“I tasted the salmon without the bread, too, and it was good,” said Biggie, whose wife enjoyed the leftovers. And while we agreed that beef would still be our go-tos on a return trip, it’s nice that there are both pescatarian and cheese/veg-only options to cover all the bases.

Customers, an employee confirmed, need only ask and can have their salmon or vegetarian sandwiches cooked on an entirely separate grill.

As for the folks who balk at Dave’s authenticity (like the guy who saw a pic of my Dave’s Way online: “That photo is not a proper Philly cheesesteak.”) or the use of Amoroso’s rolls (which some experts exalt while others disparage), or the price (see chart for current pricing on some comparable venues/sandwiches around town), I’ll use a line I heard recently that resonated.

You know who doesn’t get criticized? People who don’t do anything.

I wish I could remember who to credit.

Hayes has done a lot here. He’s trying to do even more. And plenty of Philadelphians, if not all of them, are happy about it.

You can’t please everyone, but speaking for me and Biggie, Big Dave’s pleased us just fine.

Want to reach out? Find me on Facebook, Twitter or Instagram @amydroo or on the OSFoodie Instagram account @orlando.foodie. Email: amthompson@orlandosentinel.com. For more fun, join the Let’s Eat, Orlando Facebook group.

If you go

Big Dave’s Cheesesteaks: (multiple locations) bigdavesway.com

Cheesesteak/Steak Sandwiches Price Comparisons

Big Dave’s Cheesesteaks: Classic Beef with onions and choice of cheese (halal), 6-inch, $12; 9-inch, $16; 18-inch, $30

Cavo’s: $17 for a sandwich with white, American and sautéed onions that’s “roughly 12 inches,” according to the gent on the phone. $11 for half.

Daniel’s Cheesesteak House: $16.99 for a 13-inch build-your-own.

Jersey Mike’s Subs: $9.70 for a 7-inch with grilled onions, peppers and white American

LaSpada’s: $15.70 for a 12-inch with white American and onions

Orlando’s Philly Steak, Gyro & Wings: $11.99 for a 10-inch with white American and onions (halal)

Palm Beach Meats: $22.99 for an 8-inch with Piquillo peppers, onions, Swiss cheese and truffle aioli with fries. (Australian Wagyu, halal; $14 upgrade for Japanese Wagyu)

Stasio’s: $14 for the “REAL” Steak Sandwich with onions, hot cherry peppers and mozzarella, which is “about 12 inches” on bread that’s baked in-house.

https://www.orlandosentinel.com/2025/08/28/restaurant-review-chain-big-daves-cheesesteaks/