Two years ago, I sent my 10-year-old son Kapp to the Philadelphia suburbs for a week with my brother and his family. Being from the land of the Liberty Bell and the Philly cheesesteak, Kapp’s cousins couldn’t wait for him to tuck into a greasy hunk of beef and cheese dripping with fried onions.

“What’s a cheesesteak?” Kapp asked innocently when his cousins told him about the hometown classic.