HOAGIE HUNTIN': Miller's Hoagies - Milesburg, PA

PRELIMINARY EXPECTORATION CONCERNING HOAGIES AND THE AUTHOR:

Hoagies. Known as subs to some, heroes to others, grinders, whatever... All of those names are wrong to me. Among my friends, the word, disgusting to some, has become a kind of character marker: I often refer to people as hoagies in a complimentary way, and call myself a hoagie man. Be forewarned: I am also a hoagie destroyer. 

Since I was a young kid, hoagies have been so ingrained in my life it's impossible not to think of them. When I was young, once a year my father's deli would make an insurmountable of hoagies for a local sale. When I was in my teens, dinner was often hoagies from a local shop. Despite Philadelphia purists falling short of all but legalizing what a hoagie should mean, it's this to me: a sandwich on a long roll with meats and cheese and a variety of toppings. Hot, cold, whatever: I love them all.

It's strange to think that at one point and time, this sandwich, a cornerstone of my culinary upbringing, didn't even exist. Wasn't even popular. (It's equally hard to think of a world without sandwiches: thank you, dear Earl of Sandwich for slapping things between bread for easier eating. I don't know why you're not up for sainthood.) Wherever the word comes from and whatever pedigrees it requires from people who make snobbery out of working class food, I choose to use it as I see it in our daily syntax.

The hoagie shop is so ubiquitous in all the areas I'm familiar with that a life without them seems impossible. (When I lived in Baltimore, I couldn't find a good one: a chain that shall not be named satisfied my cravings.)

A DESPERATE PLEA AND WARNING FROM GOVERNOR HOAGIE

Now,  one must differentiate between a great hoagie, a good hoagie, and utter fucking garbage that should be flushed down the toilet. With the prevalence of chain restaurants, specifically one whose spokesman is a convicted pedophile, people seem to have forgotten the local places and eschew little mom and pop shops for a heavily advertised garbage dump of Sysco products known as Subway.

Be not afraid of this devil, although do not give into the ease or temptation of its convenience. Somewhere around you, I am certain, is a better place to eat than Subway. Even if the craving for a hoagie is irrepressible, do not give in to temptation. You will become stronger for not having done so.

Now, to the good stuff....

A MILESTONE IN HOAGIE HISTORY IN MILESBURG, PA



My father, born in 1947, remembers the first time he had a hoagie. In Centre County where I currently reside, every year the Grange Fair brings visitors from all over the country, and when he was a boy he had his first hoagie from Miller's Hoagie stand. Where were you when you had your first hoagie? Probably don't even know, huh? Well, neither do I. So don't feel too bad.

Today, after searching for a desk at antique and thrift shops in quaint little towns outside of State College, we found ourselves by the original outpost of Miller's Hoagies and for a trip down memory lane (and also, certainly not least of the reasons, because we were hungry for a good sandwich.)
We decided to stop in Milesburg and see how Miller's stood the test of time.

This is the introduction, and we were glad to see they took cards. It always pains me to hurt small businesses by not carrying cash, and I urge you to use cash as much as possible when frequenting local and small businesses. The no smoking sign charmed me to bits. 

Upon walking in, you can tell nothing has changed here for a while simply because it simply doesn't need to. That's the mark of a great spot. 

They also have the perennial central PA favorite, Middleswarth chips. Miller's stocks a couple unicorns that even at the most well stocked grocery stores around here are hard to find: the Jalapeno and the Sea Salt and Vinegar variety.

I was craving something hot, my father something cold. I decided to go for a Double Chicken Cheesesteak (6.95) as opposed to a regular Chicken Cheesesteak (6.25). With the price difference, it was a no brainer as I can never pass up a good deal. It's served on an 8 inch soft roll with choice of toppings (I opted for lettuce, tomato, and mayonnaise) and sage and salt. The chicken was chopped with provolone cheese on a grill, which is how I like it. 

Certain places like to use those prepackaged strips and not chop them up at all. That's a bastard sandwich. Forget that sandwich. If it's not chopped, you're screwed. 

This sandwich, however, was excellent. I of course salted it because I apparently want my heart to explode before I'm 40, so your experience may vary. I can say that for $7, it was quite a meal. 

My father opted for the Tuna sub, topped with peppers, onions, lettuce, tomato and hoagie oil. Tuna ain't my thing, but I took a couple bites and it was better than competent. He finished it with aplomb.

Another local favorite, Ritchey's chocolate milk was available, and so we split a pint of it. It's nice and rich and thick. Good for sipping. 

Miller's Hoagies is the type of small town establishment that has existed forever because of its quality. Little needs to change when you do it right the first time.
If you find yourself out that way, I highly advise stopping in. There's a bulletin board full of local events and posters, a table full of free local news publications, and even a corner full of half-happy plants.

HOAGIE MAN SAYS: EAT THE HOAGIES HERE. THEY ARE GOOD. 

Miller's Hoagies

306 Turnpike Street, Milesburg, PA

Open M-Sat 9:30 a.m. - 9:55 p.m., Sunday 11 a.m. - 9:55 p.m.