Pittsburgh: Well That Was Delicious! (Part Three: The Third Installment)

...And how did we resolve the pressing matter of our increasing peckishness?  That is certainly a question that has been a pressing matter on your increasing concern for what happened when we first became peckish, which was quite some time past!  Don't be afeared, it does not behoove me to keep you in suspense any longer.  Instead, I am behooved to regale you with the series of events that led Grant, Kyle, and yours most truthfully, to yet another of Pittsburgh's notable eateries, this one of particularly historic proportions...and portions. Ding Dong!

We made promenade back toward Grant's yellow automobile, which Grant piloted through the thick and delightful fall-fired forests outside Pittsburgh City.  Kyle rode passengerwise in the back seated compartment, while I dutifully rose to the challenge of serving as Grant's trusty navigator, all the while selecting the delightful musical accompaniment to our vehicular jaunt across the highways, byways, and thusways that lead back to the town that bestowed upon the known world the tambourine, the mellon baller, and, certainly the most notable invention of the three...an invention that stands on its own podium in the metaphorical-for-the-time-being Olympic Games of Deliciousness.

"That invention, you say...why what on Earth is it?!", you are wondering aloud to yourself and others.  Grasp on to your petticoats! It is a sandwich in which french fries have been placed inside.  I must beseech you, before you accuse the inventors of said sandwich, Sir Tiffany Francis Primanti, and his brother, Lord Halliday von Halliday Primanti, of complete lunacy, to reconsider what thousands of years of gustatory custom and practice have imposed on the civilized world: that side dishes are to be served as they are named, because of their appropriate and assigned physical location, that being adjacent to the pheasant, boar, or other main course as such particular schedule and details of a given meal determine.  Revolutionaries that they were, the Brothers Primanti loosened the shackles of history, and tore down the boundaries of the dinner plate - this eatery does not even believe in plates!  But what would all that boundary tearing be worth if the results were less than delicious?  To consider would be moot: my sandwich was resoundingly delicious!

Elbows, knees, and toes, it was!  We couldn't have been more sated.  So sated we were, we made another promenade, this time traversing the neighborhood before returning to Grant's automobile.  Along the way we enjoyed a delightful mural that featured a pegasus steaming out of a coffee cup rising above a fish in a frying pan.  The Arts!  Oh Pittsburgh, how you do delight at every turn!

What, pray tell, could there have possibly been left for our merry band to do after such thorough and engrossing adventures?  If only a forthcoming fourth installment would eventually answer that question...

...you have been appropriately set up!

Pittsburgh: Well That Was Delicious! (Second Installment)

...that's what I call a cliffhanger!

Let's get back to my adventures, shan't I?  After a night of dignified conversation down at the local house of ales, we awoke the next morning and greeted the day with a journey to Ritter's, another diner in a city that, seemingly, when confronted with the question "is there any end to the number of diners in your fair vicinities?" would answer with a firm and confident "no, good sir or madam, there is not."  Ritter's was not 60's themed, as Pamela's was, but it had also not changed in a number of decades, and its seats were filled primarily with septuagenarians.

While Kyle fancied himself a steak-and-eggs gentleman that morning, Grant and I figuratively embraced our proletarian sides and chose to tuck in to corned beef hash.  When said hash arrived, our platters were so brimming that I thought I might have to run down to the local zoning board office and obtain the proper permits to construct in Grant's yard an old-fashioned hash shack, which were originally built by those peculiar Irish to store their excess hash.  However, as I was getting up to head over to said office, Grant informed me they were closed on Sundays, so I gathered up all of the gusto I could, and sat back down to the challenge before me.  Did I mention that the challenge was delicious?  It most certainly was!

      

After our journey through the fortification of our breakfasts, we decided to take a journey of an entirely different and more literal kind.  Our three-strong band of weekend merrymakers set out on a merry drive across the fiery fall-colored countryside, to pay a visit to Frank Lloyd Wright's merriest of domiciles, Fallingwater.  It was a delightful excursion, marked notably by the swift and thorough education in cantilevers that our tour guide provided us with.  Now, when passerby on the street inquire to me about cantilevers, as they are often wont to do, I will no longer have to hang my head in shame and make haste in the opposite direction from which said passerby approached me!  I can answer with utmost confidence: "why my good fellow sir or kind madam, it is a diving board, of course."

Here is the house as it was on the day of our journey.  As you can see, these Boy Scouts of America have all been cantilevered:

 
And here is the photo you are required by Pennsylvania state law to take before you leave:

On a disheartening note, this is the outdoor bathtub that the eight-hundred-and-fifty pound Frank Lloyd Wright died in at the age of ninety-two, whilst enjoying his favorite activity, bathing outdoors:

Needless to say, appreciating fine architecture leaves a gentleman feeling quite peckish, and thus it was time for us to depart back to the "Steely City," in search of our next hopefully-not-steely-at-all meal...another cliffhanger!  Ding Dong!

Pittsburgh: Well That Was Delicious! (Part One)

This past weekend marked the second annual October reunion of myself with my two most-favored chaps from Seattle, Grant and Kyle.  This year, due to Grant's geographical relocation, we held it over Columbus Day weekend in beautiful Pittsburgh, PA.  Nestled amongst countless rolling hills and blessed thrice-over with quaint and practical rivers, Pittsburgh was the ideal place for me to have decided to start this food blog.  Pittsburgh is no stranger to food, and I am no stranger to it as well, so given that established acquaintance, it only seemed natural.  But enough pleasantries, let us begin the journey of our food travels in the crown jewel of western Pennsylvania!

Said journey began at Pamela's, which I was informed is a local institution.  Their decor was authentic "60's Diner" in the sense that nothing had been taken off the walls in over 40 years.  This is a common theme amongst diners in Pittsburgh, as well as the city itself. Thank goodness the food itself was not also 40 years old!  Ding Dong!  But seriously, the food was totally new, and severely enjoyable.  I had the Tex-Mex omelet, while everyone else elected to dine on pancakes.  Were it an actual election, pancakes would have won by a landslide.  As you can see, my omelet more than proved its edibility:

    
Here are those election-winning pancakes, which Kyle made solid work of:

These handsome folks are happily digesting, while Grant demonstrates how much food he can put in his mouth.  Impressive stuff indeed!

And let's not forget that all the while, the completely un-creepy specter of Stan loomed over the table, watching us eat our brunch:

Of course, as I said, this was merely the beginning...