Sunday, March 9, 2014

Flashbacks

When I was in seventh grade, I played the clarinet and was selected to participate in an honors band comprised of students from neighboring school districts.  The performance was cause for a new outfit worthy of a star clarinet player, so one Saturday, my mom and I went shopping.  We stopped first at Monroeville's Park Diner, owned by Eat 'n Park, and enjoyed bacon cheese burgers, fries and cherry cokes.

Approximately 30 minutes later, I was doubled over in a JC Penney dressing room with pain in my stomach similar to what I can only assume being stabbed repeatedly with a samurai sword feels like.  My mom and I hurriedly found the nearest restroom, where I threw up everything that I had eaten since the age of three.  At the time, it was horrifying, but the tale eventually became just another anecdote in the series of inappropriate places that I've vomited.  

I vowed never to return to Park Diner and managed to avoid those stomach pains for the next 13 years... Until last night.

As I mentioned previously, Boyfriend and I are obsessed with O'Fallon Brewery's Cherry Chocolate beer.  Unfortunately, it is seasonal and most distributors in Pittsburgh no longer carry it; however, we found the last two remaining cases being held at a distributor in the Squirrell Hill/Homestead area.  We decided that since we were going to be in the area, it would be a good evening to stop for dinner and beer at Hough's, a bar-restaurant in Pittsburgh's Greenfield neighborhood with an amazing beer selection.  Hough's features 70 beers on draft and has even more bottled offerings, plus your typical bar food.  I'd been there once before, but only had drinks, while Boyfriend had never been there before.  We were feeling some burgers, so Boyfriend and I made it our mission to enjoy some great burgers and plentiful beer.

We came upon Greenfield Avenue and saw Hough's.... But absolutely no parking.  We circled for seemingly ages until we finally found a spot a few blocks away.  It's hard to imagine living in an area with such limited parking.

We walked into noisy Hough's, which was surprisingly bustling for 7:30 p.m. We expected that the crowds wouldn't build until later and there wasn't a vacant tabletop in sight.  It was not clear if we were to seat ourselves or wait for a hostess, so Boyfriend circled the place for a free table, while I creepily mean-mugged a nearby table full of people who gave the illusion of leaving soon, but to no avail.

We eventually gave in to sitting at the packed bar and reviewed the extensive draft list.  My eyes immediately zeroed in on Southern Tier's Creme Brûlée milk stout, which I hadn't had since fall and have been missing.  I ordered that, while boyfriend ordered two sample sizes of a chocolate stout and a pineapple wheat beer.  Before our beers arrived, a table cleared and Boyfriend pushed and shoved his way over to claim it as our own.  We set up there and put in an order of soft pretzels while we scoured the menu.  



Our server seemed a bit frenzied, and honestly, I couldn't blame her, as the bar was packed; however, I won't accept that as an excuse to offer shoddy service.  She never introduced herself, so I have no clue what her name was, and she had a habit of rapidly taking empty glasses without bothering to ask if we wanted another, then just disappearing.  We had to be the ones to ask her for another beer, which I found obnoxious.  

The soft pretzels were crispy and served with beer cheese and ground mustard.  I liked the pretzels and we had no problem polishing off the cup of beer cheese.  For dinner, both Boyfriend and I settled on bacon cheeseburgers and opted for tator tots, rather than standard fries.  I ordered another Creme Brûlée, feeling hopeful that things would get better as dinner continued.




At this point, Boyfriend was ready for two more sample beers and flagged down our server to put in his request.  She was carrying a stack of dirty plates, so Boyfriend politely said "when you have a moment, I'd like to order more beer." She then PUT THE DIRTY PLATES ON OUR TABLE to take his order.  My eyes must have bulged out of my head as she said "no, no, I can get them now," and put the remnants of other people's dinner next to my water glass.  I bit my tongue while Boyfriend placed his order, but he could feel the repulsion that was emanating from my every pore.  He tried to find positive aspects of our server, but as far as I could tell, Boyfriend only liked her because she was very smiley ONLY when she talked to him.

Eventually, our food was delivered and we eagerly began to devour our burgers and tots.  



The burger and tots looked good.  They really did.  I hadn't had tots in such a long time, so I was pleased with the crispy little bits of potatoes from childhood and the kitchen gave us a hefty amount.  Then I tried my burger.  The menu-promoted "secret sauce" tasted like thousand island dressing poured from an economy sized tub and the meat had absolutely no seasoning.  It was a bland hunk of cow on a semi-decent bun with chewy bacon.  

Both Boyfriend and I ordered our burgers cooked medium, but we both received well-done, which I honestly didn't even notice until Boyfriend pointed it out.  I was too distracted by everything else wrong about this burger.  I choked down half of it and was slowly turning nauseated.  I kept noticing other upsetting things about the restaurant, like the fact that I could see into the kitchen from our table and it looked filthy, and how every time our server wanted to take a plate or refill a glass, she reached right across my face to the point that I could have bitten her elbow.  

Boyfriend ate most of his burger, but wasn't impressed with the lack of flavor. He was just hungry.  My food was boxed up, even though I knew that I'd never eat it again and wouldn't even offer it to my dogs.  We left and had plans to meet up for a friend's birthday party closer to home, but as we drove through Pittsburgh, I knew we wouldn't be making the party.  The stabbing pain from seventh grade returned and it was pissed.  I sat in silence with a grimace on my face while boyfriend drove as quickly as possible without crashing.  We pulled in the driveway, I got out and walked quickly to the bathroom, where I proceded to vomit everything I've eaten since seventh grade after the Park Diner incident.  

In each of these instances, I was the only one nauseated by the food, so perhaps my digestive system is especially sensitive. Or perhaps my digestive system is just especially sensitive to crappy burgers.  Either way, I can say with confidence that Hough's has earned itself a spot right next to Park Diner on my list of places never to eat again.  I'd go back for drinks only, but will favor restaurants that take more pride in their cuisine instead of focusing solely on their beer selection.  

So, Hough's, kudos to you for your beer selection, but for the love of everything that is holy... Call Chef Irvine, get yourselves on Restaurant Impossible, and let him hire you a new cook.

Hough's on Urbanspoon 

Sunday, March 2, 2014

Give My Regards to Broadway

This past week, Boyfriend received the awesome news that he's been accepted to the highly competitive doctoral program at one of the city's top universities.  It was a stressful process that will lead to Boyfriend taking a huge and exciting step in his career and life.  Clearly, this proud moment called for a celebration.

I told Boyfriend to choose anywhere for dinner for a celebratory meal and he opted for some "good pizza." Boyfriend and I have been searching the city for pizza in delivering proximity that can be our go-to for lazy weekends.  We've been through several options, but have yet to find that perfect blend of chewy crust, ample cheese and delicious accompanying breadsticks (the breadsticks are VERY IMPORTANT). 

We turned to our trusty deck of City Dining Cards (handy little cards offering discounts to local Pittsburgh restaurants) for pizza places around us and decided upon Slice on Broadway in Pittsburgh's Beechview neighborhood.  I had Slice once before when my employer ordered it for a department lunch.  I recalled that the menu featured some creative speciality pizzas, along with classic favorites, but I didn't feel that I was able to give Slice a fair shot during a working lunch. It's hard to focus on taste when you're typing, on the phone, and chewing simultaneously.  

   Photo courtesy of Slice on Broadway's Facebook page

Slice on Broadway doesn't offer much in the way of available tables, but the upstairs has undergone a recent renovation to include additional seating and a television.  The staff was exceedingly friendly as we walked in and that customer service continued throughout the evening.  Slice offers a beer selection, but also allows BYOB.  As Boyfriend and I have found a new obsession in O'Fallon Brewery's Cherry Chocolate Beer, we brought our own six-pack, which we carried upstairs to the dining room.  We had to ask a few times for a bottle opener, but the staff was quick and courteous in supplying one, which we probably should have thought to bring ourselves. 



I do feel the need to mention that the floors were extremely slippery! At first, I blamed my boots with lack of tread; however, Boyfriend's feet were sliding, as well, and our friends whom arrived moments later also commented on the dangerously slippery floors.  They weren't wet from snow outside or spilled drinks... Just slippery.  

The upstairs space is not sprawling, but it's easy to see that Slice's owners have done the best with what they have.  The chairs were pleasantly comfortable with plump cushions and the area was very clean.  

While we looked over the menu, we ordered breadsticks to quiet our bellies while we debated on what pizza to order.  The cheesy breadsticks were thin, hard and chewy, more like a pizza crust than a soft breadstick, like Boyfriend and I prefer.  I'm not sure it's an appetizer that I'd order again from Slice.  

The pizza selection is great and I enjoyed the personal and comedic touches throughout the menu, such as "if you order half a topping, you'll only be charged for half a topping.  That's just how we roll."  To me, that shows that the owners care about their customers and do this out of sheer enjoyment.  It's not a stuffy establishment.  It's fun for the sake of fun and pizza.

We finally settled on three types of pizza: half of a mushroom (Boyfriend's standard pie), half of The Athena, and a whole Fancy Pants.  To order, we had to go back downstairs (carefully, so as not to wipe out on the slippery floors) and pay upon ordering.  Certainly different than most restaurants, but if you don't mind getting up, then it's not too big of an inconvenience.  We did not wait long until our hot pizzas were brought to our table to devour.


While I didn't sample the mushroom pizza, it appeared to hold plentiful amounts of fresh mushrooms nicely distributed.  Boyfriend seemed to enjoy it quite a bit and had more than one slice.  The Athena is a white pizza topped with baby spinach, tomatoes, and feta; Boyfriend's sister, J.A. requested added artichoke to the pie.  Again, I didn't try this pizza, but Boyfriend, J.A. and M.W. all enjoyed it.  J.A. did comment, however, that the pizza could have used more cheese.  

We also ordered my choice, the Fancy Pants.  This pie featured pesto, prosciutto, sundried tomatoes, baby spinach and goat cheese.  I thought that this pie was absolutely delicious and had a great blend of unexpected flavors.  The prosciutto was subtle and not overwhelming, while the goat cheese wasn't overly pungent, but certainly made itself known.  We all agreed that Fancy Pants was awesome.



We had plenty of pizza to divide and take home at the end of dinner.  Boyfriend and I aren't convinced that Slice on Broadway will be our new go-to for our standard half-mushroom-half-plain pizza for those lazy Saturdays, but I will definitely be back for the speciality options, like the Fancy Pants.  The pizza is good, the customer service is great... Just watch those slippery floors so you don't fall and split your fancy pants.

SLICE on Broadway on Urbanspoon