Savoring
Philly Tokyo
Chome−2−13 中條ビル 13 Chuoku Tokyo Japan
April 10, 2025
Tucked into a quiet corner of Nihonbashi is a little shop called Philly Tokyo. When you step through the door and you’re hit with a blast of Philly: SEPTA maps, Gritty plushies, Philly sports memorabilia, and Sharpie notes on the wall from Delco to North Philly, and all around the tri-state region. I even left my own message near the entrance, sandwiched between “Delco girls in Japan” and someone’s favorite Wawa order.
Philly is run by Kosuke Chujo and his wife Tomomi, two people who took their love for Philly and turned it into something unique. Kosuke actually flew to Philadelphia twice to research the sandwich. And not just surface level research! He’s measured the weight, length, and girth of sandwiches, ranked spots, took notes while sampling cheesesteaks around the city. I’ve seen the proof on Instagram! Tomomi told me that their first attempts at cheesesteaks (back in 2013) were more like teriyaki beef subs on soft baguettes, topped with basil-cheddar sauce. Needless to say, the locals couldn’t wrap their heads around it, and the Philly expats hated it.
Fast forward to now, and it’s a whole different story. When I stopped by, I ordered the classic beef cheesesteak with homemade Whiz. It was served on a long, seeded roll, drenched in vibrant orange whiz, which is very rare to non-existent in Japan. When Tomomi asked what I thought, I told her that in my opinion, bread makes or breaks a cheesesteak, and your bread nails it. I was told that she made them herself, baked in-house in the the ovens right behind her. I was curious how they could replicate this style bread in Japan, and Tomomi explained that they use imported American flour, because Japanese flour is radically different. That alone blew my mind. They also make the cheese from scratch, since you can’t get real Whiz or Cooper Sharp in Japan. Every detail has been fussed over. And you can taste the love and respect in every bite.
One bite in, and I was in full cheesesteak mode, leaning over to avoid my shirt catching grease. It was messy, cheesy, perfectly seasoned, and a proper cheesesteak. The meat was chopped with an Eagles-branded spatula, which somehow makes it taste even better. I was surprised that they even carry Yuengling, a truly Philly thing. I don’t even drink, but seeing that on a menu in Tokyo made me pause.
Philly also serves chicken cheesesteaks, and I hear they’re planning a wagyu version soon. I stuck with the classic, but honestly, I might go back to try the others. Anyone want to hit up Tokyo with me next year?
Apart form the cheesesteak, I was really surprised by their dedication. The fact that Kosuke and Tomomi built this place from scratch, studied the craft, and refused to settle. That they bake 30–50 rolls a day, all by hand. That they took a shot on something most people in Japan don’t even know about, and made it work. They even bake their own philly soft pretzels, which were identical to the ones I’m used to.
It felt like more than a meal. It felt like my own slice of Philly in a far, far away land. A Philly joint, built with love, thousands of miles from Broad Street.
If you ever find yourself in Tokyo and want a real taste of Philly—not some tourist version like Pat’s or Geno’s—Nihonbashi Philly is absolutely worth it.
