Don’t think for a minute that I’m saying anything negative about the food at E2. The restaurant’s various constructions package amazing flavors in a beautifully rustic package. I just think it’s worth pointing out that there’s a certain quality to the staff at E2 that makes the restaurant stand out. A certain attitude, really. They all carry a free spirit and a fun attitude that makes a dining experience all the more pleasant.

E2 (think Enrico’s 2)
e2pittsburgh.com

5904 Bryant Street
Pittsburgh, PA 15206
(412) 441-1200

The restaurant, an outpost of the Enrico Biscotti Company, opened about a year ago in Highland Park — starting with weekend brunch and dinner 4 days a week and eventually expanding dinner all week long. Under the culinary direction of chef Kate Romane, the restaurant churns out what I would call rustic Italian cuisine. I’m guessing the space was an old house in a former life, with standard seating limited to a small dining room on the first floor. Both the bathrooms and a fairly large private event area are tucked downstairs in the basement.

They avoid self-application of any label, but I would say the place falls squarely into what I consider casual fine dining: fantastic food from a passionate chef served in a comfortable and unpretentious environment. During brunch you’ll find the only copy of the menu posted on a wall-sized chalk board in the upstairs dining room. During dinner, they use the chalk board for “OMGs” (appetizers) an pass out a paper menu with the day’s selection of dinner options. With a menu as dynamic as E2′s, it’s hard to imagine any other format.

Modest but inviting. My first visit to Enrico’s was after dark this winter, which made the place a bit hard to find. If I had been driving by, I might have even missed it. The restaurant’s exterior is modest — noted as a restaurant primarily by a self-standing sign out front and a big ‘E’ painted on the front wall. Inside, the lighting is fairly bright, which makes for some pretty good photos. From the main entrance, the dining room is through a door on the left and the basement is just down the wide stairwell straight ahead. Unless you’ve arranged for a private event, you’ll probably be eating in the dining room.

E2′s rustic feel caries through to the dining room. Filled with small tables, the walls are spotted with sporadic black and white photos — none large enough to be viewed from too far away. A long wooden booth runs the course of the far wall and serves as seating for the back row of tables. Beyond the tables, every other seat takes the form of a wooden chair. About the only thing in the room likely to grab your attention is the chalk board menu, which lists appetizers or brunch items depending on when you visit.

A write-up in the Trib calls the flowers at each table a little droopy, and I would call that assessment at least partially accurate. In my visits, I’ve seen a full spectrum from droopy to fresh.

More on that outstanding staff. At first I struggled to explain why I’m such a big fan of the E2 staff. They’re fun and completely unpretentious, but that’s not quite it. They’re attentive and helpful, but that’s really just their job. Really, I think my appreciation flows from their authenticity. You can kick off a playful conversation with just about any of them, and they give an impression of really wanting to be friendly and helpful — because they want to, not because they have to.

By way of an example, I went for brunch a few weeks back and had to wait a few minutes for a table. When one staffer saw us standing upstairs waiting, we were invited to go hang out downstairs. When another person saw that we were still standing downstairs, she offered up some seats in the private event area. When another employee showed up and started working to set up some music, she offered us coffee and joked around with us about breaking into the wine sitting on the other side of the bar. Every last employee stopped to make sure we were comfortable and felt welcome — even through they were each scrambling to attend to their primary tasks on a busy Sunday morning.

Thoughtful recipes, well-executed. Anyone who has taken the Enrico Biscotti bread-making class knows that Larry Lagattuta cares about Italy’s cultural heritage. When you enroll in the bread class, you can expect a vast breakfast of unpretentious comfort food all executed with skill, passion, and top notch ingredients. When you visit E2, you have the opportunity to enjoy that very same experience — six nights a week.

The menu is extremely dynamic, but a few themes seem to be consistent. For dinner, you can expect the options to include a varied assortment of pasta options, meatballs, a few seafood preparations, a couple of salads, and (of course) some beans and greens. For brunch, you can expect a polenta option, a few different omlettes, and a handful of creative options that you probably won’t find at your typical brunch destinations. E2 also offers a few different fried dough formats into the mix for anyone wanting to take that route. I haven’t tried them, but I can guarantee any of the options is a better caloric investment than your average doughnut (and certainly more worthwhile than your average donut).

Reasonable respect for vegetarians. The primary focus seems to be quality, so the menu is relatively agnostic to meat versus vegetable. Calling the menu vegetarian-leaning would be a stretch, but they typically list more vegetarian options than most. With salads viewed as an introductory course rather than an entree, they tend to include a small set of interesting accents rather than any meat. They’re big enough to share or use as a light vegetarian dinner if you’re struggling to find another option.

When I went with the FoodBurgh Meetup, our waitress suggested that we just order the entire menu, which was discounted by about $20 when ordered as a complete package. If you have a big enough group, I highly recommend that option. If you want more specific (and up-to-date) menu details, you can find a complete list on the E2
site.

The Brunch Menu

Having been through the whole menu, I could spend a long time discussing all the food. Instead, I’ll focus on my most recent visit: for brunch when my parents were in town. For photos from my first visit you can check out the associated album on Flickr.

Polenta with roasted red pepper sauce. For my brunch outing, I ordered the polenta topped with a fried egg and covered with a roasted red pepper sauce. The ensemble was excellent. The thick layer of polenta was flavorful but surprisingly light — not the least bit dense. I was concerned the roasted pepper might make the sauce overly sweet; instead, it carried a pleasant tart finish — possibly induced by vinegar or some amount of tomato sauce. The polenta and sauce alone would have been good but the ensemble needed something else. The fried egg hidden between sauce and polenta provided just the needed addition&mdashwith texture and flavor from the mildly buttery white and a burst of contrasting flavor from a soft runny yolk.

My mother’s fried egg over potato hash. This was a daily special&mdashnot from the standard menu. My mother and I tend to have similar taste in food, so going out to eat with my parents typically involves debate over the two most interesting options followed by a decision of who orders which. This was no different, so my mother ended up ordering my second choice. A fried egg overtop a potato and onion hash that had been tossed in a buttery white wine sauce. I wouldn’t exactly call this a healthy option, but it was definitely worth eating. The sauce was somewhat rich but applied with a light enough hand to prevent it from overpowering the dish. The egg added some protein to balance out the dish.

My father’s capicola omelet with potatoes and salad. Not having the least bit of veggie-leaning tendencies, my father opted for a capicola-filled omelet that came pared with potatoes and a small salad. The omlette was definitely American in styling: thick with a substantial filling. The accompanying sides made for a huge breakfast but offered some nice contrast.

My breakfast: polenta with red pepper sauce.

My mother's breakfast: fried egg over potato-onion hash.

My father's breakfats: capicola omlette with potatoes and salad.

We didn’t BYOB for breakfast. Though it wouldn’t have been the first time I’ve gone out with my parents and ended up having a beer before noon, we didn’t take advantage of the BYOB option. If you’re heading out for dinner, then you really should. I’ve heard people complain about the relatively high corkage fee ($6), but I would claim that the fee is worth it. That’s still less than the markup that you could expect if you bought the bottle there, and this is definitely the type restaurant where you want to sit around for a little while and enjoy a glass of wine or a good craft beer.

Given their Italian-leanings, the focus tends more toward wine. When I signed up for their first monthly E2 Din2, I was reminded to bring a bottle of wine. When I went with the FoodBurgh Meetup, I brought a few growlers from East End, and the best glassware they could provide took the form of 10-oz water glasses. I can’t rightfully complain about that leaning, but it’s something to note.

An almost empty growler from East End Brewing.

I like E2 — and, really, everything associated with Enrico. I like what they stand for, I like what they serve, and I like how they serve it. The menu can be heavy at times, but the options are sufficiently varied and sufficiently vegetarian-friendly to ensure that everyone will find something they like. If you’re looking for something different — something that comes across as casual fine dining without trying to apply their own label, then I would say this is definitely a must-try type of place. You really owe it to yourself to stop in and enjoy.

Park Bruges
www.pointbrugge.com

5801 Bryant St
Pittsburgh, PA 15206
(412) 661-3334

Park Bruges, you might notice, uses a different spelling of “Bruges;” that would be the French spelling instead of the Flemish “Brugge” variant. The reported plan is to point their Highland Park outpost in the direction of Belgium’s French community and leave Point Breeze location with all of its Flemish tendencies in tact. Like the original, Park Bruges still serves up a quality beer list of mostly Belgian bottles with a relatively small Belgian-focused draft list and a few American craft options for those who want it. In other words, it’s the Highland Park destination I’ve been waiting for.

Not that any of the existing highland park destinations is at all bad.

Interior Scene—with apologies for the lousy quality

Modern, casual, and still small. I admit it: I don’t go to Point Brugge nearly as often as I should. My friends say the Park variant is a little larger, but I’m not sure I buy it. They’re both relatively small and both jam-packed—even on a week night. Park Bruges has a decidedly different exterior: a big sidewalk-level window opens up the whole restaurant to outside onlookers, but otherwise, the exterior is fairly non-descript. I had to get pretty close before I was even certain that I had found the right restaurant.

Once you get inside, the setting is fairly bright—much more so than Point Brugge. A medium-sized bar lines the right wall with tables occupying the remaining thin strip of a restaurant. I went on a Wednesday night about 2 weeks after they opened and the place was reasonably packed. I had to wait about 15 minutes for a table, which isn’t all that bad on the Point Brugge scale. At least we know the business is doing well.

Saison Dupont (i.e., happiness)

The full bottle list (click to zoom)

Belgian bottles and then some. The beer list is actually fairly large—but almost entirely focussed on bottles. There are only 6-8 taps, and there doesn’t seem to be any effort to list them on the menu. You really just have to walk up to the bar and look. The bottle list, on the other hand, is well published (see above). There’s a printed list on every table, and it’s filled with a wide assortment of Belgian options. The list is segmented by style with Belgians up front and a combination of American craft options and imports starting beyond the fold. I was actually fairly surprised to see that they had 12 oz. version of many Belgians that typically come in larger bottles—including the Saison Dupont that I ordered.

Simple menu with a few veggie options. The menu is relatively small—just two pages. On the front, you find appetizers and a few salads; on the back, entrees and sandwiches. In terms of veggie options, they serve a house-made veggie burger and a vegetable-based ratatoullie farfalle. On the appetizer list, they have a few more options—most notably the Organic Pheonix Tofu: napa cabbage and tofu with a soy-ginger sauce and peanut garnish. In terms of poutine, they serve up a “classic montreal” version with no added meat, but it’s still drenched in gravy and hence, not so vegetarian.

Traditional Poutine

Grölsch style water dispensing

Poutine. When I went, I ordered a few different items—starting with the much talked-about poutine. The poutine was…interesting. Thin, but not crispy fries resting in a wide bowl atop a puddle of gravy—all topped with cheese curds. Cheese curds, you say? Yes. That would be the solid portion of curds and whey: a kind of proto-cheese before any sort of aging. By virtue of the gravy, this definitely wasn’t a vegetarian dish but I wanted to sample to see what the dish was all about. I’ve heard some comment that the fries different from those at Point Brugge. According to First Bites, it’s true: they’re intentionally thinner to accommodate the poutine.

The poutine honestly wasn’t nearly the monstrosity I imagined: the cheese curds were applied somewhat lightly, and the fries certainly weren’t drenched in gravy. Instead, the gravy just happened to be floating below the fries in case you wanted to take one of them in for a more extensive dip. If you’re not strictly veg, I would recommend giving it a try—if for no other reason than to impress your Canadian friends.

Grilled Flat Iron (with a portabella substitution)

Spinach Salad, with fruit :-(

A portabello substitute of a salad. I didn’t want to mound carbs on top of carbs, so I was aiming for a salad. Of the two entree salads, one featured fruit and the other featured steak. Not being a fan of fruit on my salad, I opted for the steak—though with a request that they might substitute portobello. My server took the request without issue and brought out a beautiful salad that made it look like portobello was the default option. I was impressed.

Beyond appearance, the salad was outstanding. Caramelized onions, home fries, blue cheese, tossed very lightly in a champagne vinaigrette. The lettuce was fresh, and everything was well in balance. I’d say it was one of the better salads I’ve had in Pittsburgh. My housemate and dining companion, Brett, like fruit on his salad. He ordered the spinach salad with strawberries and pears and seemed to be quite happy with the results as well.

I’m an enormous fan of Park Bruges. In every aspect that I care about, they delivered. The service was attentive and friendly, the atmosphere was casual and easy-going, the beer list was superb, and the food was well presented. If you’re looking for good quality Franco-Belgian cuisine—or even if you just want to try some poutine, you definitely need to head over to Park Bruges and try the place out. I’d even go so far as to rating it as a must-try kind of place.

In the particular case of Pi Coal Fired, the results were mixed: great pizza, plenty of veggie options, and even a few craft beer options. The pizza was even fairly healthy—very well balanced without being overcome by a thick layer of cheese. That’s not to say the place is perfect—you need to tolerate a few (manageable) shortcomings along the way, but I still recommend checking it out.

Pi Coal Fired
www.picoalfired.com

1707 E. Carson St
Pittsburgh, PA 15203
(412) 431-5095

There seem to be quite a few people who had never heard of Pi Coal Fired. Given their proximity to some other well-known South Side destinations, that’s a little surprising. They’re right on Carson near 17th Street—somewhere between Fat Heads and Carson Street Deli. Based on a City Paper commentary, it sounds like they opened in February 2010 with a goal of bringing great Neapolitan pizza to the South Side. I think they manage to meet that goal—with one caveat: the restaurant is attached to a night club (Jimmy D’s). That association has a somewhat significant impact on the overall atmosphere, but I’ll dive into that issue a little later.

A little hard to find, and a little empty. Some places in the South Side have a rather substantial sign out front. Pi Coal Fired isn’t one of those places. They have a small self-standing sign on the front sidewalk and the restaurant name printed on the front canopy. That’s really it. You can look in through the front windows and see a rather nice interior with a substantial bar along the right side, but it’s still not clear what to expect: they could offer a good beer list, or not; They could serve good food, or not. It’s unclear.

On my first visit, I stepped in and found the place nearly empty—with the bar tender being the only visible employee and only one table actually filled with guests. A big opening in the back of the restaurant gives a pretty good view into the kitchen—including the brick pizza oven, but I didn’t notice a lot of activity back there. Luckily, things picked up when I asked for a menu and grabbed a table.

A highly focussed menu. One of the counter-intuitive indicators of a questionable restaurant is a large and diverse menu. There aren’t many restaurant kitchens out there that can really show mastery over every item on an enormous menu, so a big menu often foreshadows a wide selection of mediocrity. Pi seems to avoid that trap with a highly focused menu: they serve a few basic salads, but only as accompaniments to an assortment of pizzas and calzones. If you’re interested, you can check out the full lineup on their web site.

Toppings for the pizzas and fillings for the calzones focus on a small number of traditional Italian staples: roasted red pepper, prosciutto, mozzarella, mushroom, pickled peppers, sausage, and various fresh herbs. I was pleasantly surprised that very nearly half of the available options were vegetarian by default. They have a tendency to throw in some prosciutto in a couple of pies that seemed otherwise vegetarian-leaning, so it feels like several additional options could go veggie rather easily if you asked for it.

Salad Della Casa

Caprese Pizza

Surprisingly good salad. I opted for both a salad and a pizza: the salad della casa and a caprese pizza. I’ll be the first to admit that I had low expectations for the salad. That’s probably why I was so surprised to receive a plated piled high with fresh arugula and a light dusting of almonds, tomatoes, and toasted bits of prosciutto. Note the prosciutto: it was only a minor player but you’d have to put in a request for a strictly veggie option. The tomato preparation was notable: I’m guessing they were fire-roasted and shrivled cherry tomatoes that had been cut into small wedges.

Contrary to my initial expectation, the salad was great. It was nearly as good as the ingredient list makes it sound, though the 100% arugula could very easily be too much. My biggest complaint would be the dressing—it was a good balsamic vinaigrette, but it had been applied with a somewhat heavy hand. On the second visit, the dressing situation was a little more tolerable—though I still wish I could actually remember to request it on the side.

Arugula Pizza

Funghi Pizza

Sophisticated pizza. From reading the restaurant’s web site and the owner’s rather ballsy (but respectable) response to some Urbanspoon criticism, it’s pretty clear that they care about their pizza. From their insistence on very specific ingredients (Tipo 00 Flour, San Marzano Tomatoes) to strict adherence to Neapolitan style guidelines, they make a strong effort to present a classic Neapolitan pie. I don’t have much to compare it to, but what they do serve adheres rather well to what Peter Reinhart describes—and his word tends to be law when it comes to all things dough.

Beyond adherence to a particular style, the pizza is good. When you think pizza, it’s pretty easy to imagine crust reminiscent of cardboard topped with bland sauce and a thick greasy layer of cheese. That’s not what you get at Pi. Here, the pizza is exceptionally thin, but yet not all that crispy. Thanks to the high heat of a coal fired brick oven, the pizza carried a few attractive char marks but the interior was still soft and somewhat chewy—that’s where the finely milled 00 flour really shines through.

The various toppings are added with a great deal of restraint. For example, my caprese pizza included a very thin layer of sauce, a few splotches of fresh mozzarella, a few slices of tomato, and fresh basil leaves tossed on after baking. No one ingredient was overdone, so you could easily pick out several layers of flavor without being overwhelmed by any single topping. I also went home without feeling all that guilty about having a few slices.

Draft Options (there's no printed list)

They need to figure out the beer thing. I absolutely love that a good beer list is becoming more the norm and less the exception, and Pi follows that trend with what appears on the surface to be a pretty good beer list, but only on the surface. With 21 draft options, you might think there has to be something good. That’s only partially true. Yes, they had some good craft options on the list (e.g., Rogue Dead Guy and Lagunitas IPA), but they also had an inordinate number of macros (e.g., Labatte Blue, Newcastle Brown Ale, Stella Artois). There are enough good options that I could pick something but it was a little harder than I expected at first.

A mediocre blend of options wouldn’t necessarily be a show-stopper: the real problem here was the quality of the output. Most of the beers I tried were served far too cold, stale, and often riddled with other off flavors—to the point of wondering whether they pay any attention to cleaning their draft lines. I think there are a few problems here: 1) they need to take better care of their beer and beer lines, and 2) they don’t get enough traffic to turn over a keg in a reasonable amount of time. I’m really hoping that over time, they’ll work to solve problem (1) and the community will reward them by solving problem (2).

More on the night club problem. In the Post-Gazette’s review, Munch called Pi Schizophrenic—in the sense that the place couldn’t figure out if it was a quality pizza destination or night club bar. I very much agree with that complaint. The audience for each type of establishment has very different expectations and rarely overlaps. On both of my visits, there were several hints of night club that called out from just below the surface. The club feel wasn’t overwhelming but the run-down bathrooms and aforementioned beer problems can definitely fall into that category of “club-ishness.” That, and I would be a little afraid of stopping by on a Friday or Saturday night.

I’m rooting for them. My feelings on Pi are mixed. I can definitely say I like the place, and I would even go so far as to say that they deserve far more attention and far more praise than they have received so far. The food and staff were excellent, but a variety of beer problems and an unsettling “club feel,” though not overwhelming, both serve to detract from the overall experience. I, like Munch, really hope they make take steps to clean up their act on both fronts. With a few minor course corrections, I think Pi could be a great place—and I’m definitely rooting for them to succeed.

Fiddler’s Bar and Grill
www.fiddlersbarandgrill.com

9101 Perry Hwy
Pittsburgh, PA 15237
(412) 635-2300

You may already know Fiddler’s by another name: Magoo’s. That seems to have been the name of the restaurant before their recent re-branding. The ownership hasn’t changed, and I’m told the interior hasn’t either. The “big” change is really a slight modernization of the menu. As far as I can tell, that’s code for a few veggie-friendly options plus some 90′s-era foodie highlights: sun-dried tomatoes, goat cheese, and the like. It’s still not a vegetarian or foodie mecca, but the slightly modernized options are welcome.

Not quite hidden up North. The North Hills is a broad region, so I’ll define the location a little more clearly: Perry Highway in McCandless Township—a little South from where Mcknight splits off. The building is well marked, so it’s not hard to find if you’re on the right road. The parking lot is somewhat disorganized but seems to have plenty of space.

Inside, the restaurant is pretty well separated between the bar (near the main entrance) and a big dining room (on the opposite side). I’m guessing the two sections are split 1/3 – 2/3 with the dining room winning out for the large space. On both sides, the tables are clean and ready for customers—with place-settings set neatly on each table in the dining room. My only real problem with the layout was the lack of a host table or obvious way to grab a table, which could have made for some confusion had I been going for a table in the dining room.

Doubly awesome bar tender. On both of my visits, I just stuck to the bar an ordered food there. It’s hard to suggest that a bar-experience says anything about the waitstaff, but I can at least say that service at the bar was excellent: friendly, full of both food and beverage suggestions, and more than able to describe any of of the draft options. There’s a huge difference between restaurant staff that awkwardly keeps their distance and those that know they can but in and comment. The bar tender made for a good example of the more personable type.

That same bar tender took care of the beer meetup (no easy undertaking) and really went above and beyond in making our event fun. She kept everyone’s glasses full, made us smile, and even washed and distributed our free Troegs pint glasses from @DMWatters as we packed up to leave. On both occasions, the Fiddler’s staff really showed that they cared about keeping customers happy.

Free Troegs Glasses from @DMWatters

About that modernized menu. The menu lists the standard fare for a casual bar and grill: assorted appetizers, soup, salad, burgers, sandwiches. The only outlier was the flatbreads, which are really just assorted toppings baked onto a roughly square sheet of dough. The result is something much like a white pizza with toppings that seem to draw from a deli (spinach, pesto, sun dried tomato, cheese steak and a few others).

As far as menu changes go, I don’t have an old menu to compare but that doesn’t stop me from guessing. I have a hunch that the fish taco and sun dried tomato appetizers are among the menu’s new additions. The dinner salad with shrimp and cilantro-lime vinnaigrette is another candidate for a fairly recent introduction. The Tribune-Review (my source of the “modernization” claim) also seems to indicate that the entire flat breads section can be counted among the new menu arrivals. Giving some of the toppings, that seems to make sense as well.

Vegetarians beware. I always try to make a point to call out healthy and/or veggie-leaning menu items, but that’s honestly one of Fiddlers’ stumbling points. There are a two vegetarian appetizers, but it’s not clear that either is even moderately healthy. The sundried tomato and goat cheese hummus might be reasonable—depending on the level of goat cheese, but it’s hard to imagine the spinach and artichoke dip will leave your calorie budget in tact. The balsamic roasted vegetable wrap was really the only other menu item to catch my eye. There are a few other vegetarian flat breads and entrees, but nothing that I can really get excited about. They don’t even offer a vegetarian dinner salad.

I’m lucky in the sense that I have no problem eating fish, and the Fiddler’s menu opens up quite a bit if you welcome the sea into your diet. The mahi mahi fish tacos instantly grabbed my attention; as did the seared salmon and cilantro-lime shrimp salads. Other options were interesting, but not particularly attention grabbing.

Mahi Mahi Fish Tacos

My fascination with fish tacos. For whatever reason, I find myself drawn to the the fish taco. Everyone has their own interpretation, so it’s the type of item that you can try at 10 different places to find 10 completely different constructions. That also makes it a good indicator of any restaurant’s capacity for creative presentation. In the case of Fiddler’s, the specific menu item was a set of three mahi mahi tacos—as an appetizer. I would call them more of a meal.

My tacos had some positive execution points but also some negatives. First, the presentation was lackluster. The rolled tortilla exteriors served to hide each taco’s contents while tiny lime slices (not wedges) sat awkwardly between each roll. Compare that presentation to something like the Sharp Edge and you’ll know why I’m complaining. Flavor-wise, the fish was nicely cooked: flaky but not without texture. There was a slight hint of heat that felt a little like a sprinkle of cayenne, but that heat had to compete with a little more salt than I would hope for.

On the plus side, the tacos did feature a nice spicy slaw with a mostly vinegar base—the way all fish tacos should be. Overall, the tacos weren’t at all bad; they just exhibited some room for improvement. With a little less salt and a more appealing presentation, I wouldn’t have any reason to complain.

On flatbread. I had a chance to try a piece of some of the flat bread while I was at the beer meetup. I don’t have too much to say, but I wanted to at least note that they were better than I expected. The cheese and toppings were applied with a great deal of restraint, so the resulting dish was well balanced and less unhealthy than expected. The bread was a little on the thick side, but there was still room for a variety of flavors to merge into each bite.

Some Tap Hanldes

Oh, the beer list. Fiddler’s is rather short on drafts—I counted only 8. Two slots go to macro-lagers, two go to Yuengling and Guinness, so only four are left open for real craft beer options. The remaining four were all good beers with a decidedly local trend: Oskar Blues Old Chub, Troegs Hop-Back, Erie Ol’ Red, and Victory something or other. Of course, the four craft drafts aren’t the only options: about 20 bottle options supplement that list with stuff from Dogfish, Great Lakes, and several others. Overall, the list was pretty reasonable, though it’s clear they need more throughput to support more kegs and faster turnaround on the kegs they have. That’s really the chicken and egg problem of the craft beer world.

I like Fiddlers. That’s not to say the place is a new favorite or the next destination for the Blogger meetup. Really, it just means that they’re doing more than a few things right. The menu could use a few more veggie options and the food has a little room for improvement, but they seem focussed on making things better. With a decent beer list, free WiFi, and an amazing staff, it’s the kind of place that can very easily draw me back. That lands them squarely in the category of worth a shot.

Over the past few years, we’ve grown as a city. A burst of casual fine dining has brought quality food without the oppressive atmosphere; dynamic, often seasonal, menus have become the norm. More in line with my interests, some of the city’s best restaurants have even started opening previously bland draft lists to more interesting beer options. I would even say it has become a little rare to find draft list dominated entirely by industrialized adjunct lagers.

Shiloh Grill
www.theshilohgrill.com

123 Shiloh Street
Pittsburgh, PA 15211
(412) 431-4000

In many ways, I view the current owners of Harris Grill as an early example of those trends: they’ve had a great beer list for as long as I can remember and casual is the rule of their game. The food is notable, but probably not exceptional—at least relative to my own biases. It’s all well prepared and consistent, just not the type of food I usually go for. For example, you’ve probably heard of “bacon night” (Tuesday).

Despite the caloric minefield, there are some healthful options—even good number of vegetarian options. Whatever your leanings, you’re more than likely to find something that fits your diet—unless you’re dead set on vegan options, which are shamelessly bashed on their menu. Of course, Harris has always augmented that culinary baseline with a dynamic list of draft beer options and moderately impressive list of bottles. Merge the food with good beer and you have a place worth getting excited about.

What does Harris Grill have to do with the Shiloh? Everything. The same owners that made Harris Grill what it is today are renting the space that was formerly Shiloh Inn. At the end of last year, they opened it back up in the image of Harris. Actually, the renovation was completed so quickly that I didn’t even hear about it until it was finished (via Bill Toland’s story in the Post Gazette). By that time, Grill #2 was basically up and running, and I had no choice but to go check it out.

Eerily similar setup. The scenery at Shiloh Grill is strikingly similar to what you might find at the Ellsworth location: two floors, similar decorations, and even a front porch (really, more of a deck). They also share the same branding: the flame logo.

I didn’t spend much time on Shiloh’s first floor, but I did note that the second floor feels just a little bit nicer than Harris—even a little bit upscale. That’s not to say it’s any less laid back—the web site assures that point with a rather loose dress code for their new year’s party. That is to say that I noted the tables are a bit more spread out and the walls are a bit brighter—with two-person tables positioned next to eat of several smaller windows. The working fireplace drives the upscale point even a little further.

By the way, if you’re looking for the that dress code: “proper attire consists of keeping the bathing suit areas covered at all times while on premises.” I see no similar rules on the Harris site, which I suspect just means they’re fending off any stuffy Mt Washington expectations. For humor value alone, I hope they keep it up for a little while.

Craft beer before it was cool. Don’t get me wrong, craft beer was always cool; it’s just getting easier and easier to find good beer in Pittsburgh’s restaurants. The Harris Grill was an early adopter of that trend, and Shiloh Grill maintains the same focus. Though not listed on the web site, I seem to recall about a dozen draft options and multiple pages of bottles—all conveniently organized by style.

Perhaps even more notable than a good beer list is a staff that has something to say about it. It’s easy to add a few beers to the menu but much harder to nurture a culture that embraces it. I’ve been to far too many restaurants with waitstaff—and the even bar tenders—are completely unable to accurately describe something from the draft list. Neither of the Grills is like that. On my most recent visit to Harris and my first visit to Shiloh, I ended up with a server that really knew something about beer. At Shiloh, I even ended up chatting with our waiter about homebrew.

That all-important server rapport. I have never met a Harris or Shiloh employee that I didn’t like. The servers are truly amazing, and the people I worked with to plan a beer meetup bent over backwards for our group. Even beyond knowing something about beer, the servers are consistently on-key and friendly. They are keenly aware of the perfect amount of conversation and interesting enough that you want to go back just to see your server again. To drive that point home, I’m still facebook friends with our server from the beer meetup.

Bar food with attitude. Reading the menu for either restaurant is always entertaining. Filled with cultural references and irreverent commentary, it’s worth spending some time reading over the whole thing. Somewhat ironically, my favorite piece of humor is the one that comes closest to making fun of me. There’s an icon for menu items that are both dairy free and gluten free—and also suitable to NPR listeners: that icon just doesn’t appear anywhere outside of the key. Also, said icon is a soviet-style hammer and sickle. Laughing at yourself is a good thing.

Veggie-friendly, but often unhealthy. Like I said up top: beyond the humor value, I have mixed feelings about the menu’s contents (pdf). On one hand, it shows off vegetarian options in just about every section. At the same time, a number of those options are anything but healthy—good for some but somewhat counter to my own goals. Remember, I lean veg for health reasons more than anything else. Between that and bacon night, they’re catering to a crowd that’s willing to throw health out the window. That said, the Shiloh menu does list a few options that caught my attention, and I’m sure they’ll all find their way into a future visit: “labor-inducing vegetarian chili,” “quickie salad chop chop” (though I’d skip the bacon/chicken), and the “garden weasel.”

To start, the Calamari Mata Hari. Proving that I’m pretty far from actually being a vegetarian (or even much of a health nut), we ended up starting with a fried calamari appetizer. This was was well presented with a bit of a twist: rather than any type of dipping option, the fried tentacles were pre-blended with a curry-based seasoning. The flavor was a unique twist that made for an appetizer well worth trying.

For dinner, A Craw Full of Falafel. I’ll give this dish a second-best rating. The falafel was good, but the sandwich somewhat sparse. There wasn’t much content beyond sauce and a sparse treatment of diced cucumber and tomato. That lack of variety left a sandwich with limited flavor depth and not nearly enough veggies. The flatbread substrate wasn’t anything to write home about either. Overall, the sandwich wasn’t bad—it just could have been much better.

I did have the option to use a garden salad as my side. I did, and it was overflowing with some nice greens and fresh veggies—not to mention a pretty good vinaigrette on the side. I’ve actually started to see more and more iceberg lettuce cropping up in salads around town, but the side salad at Harris ignored that trend: half my plate was filled with mixed field greens. That salad experience foretold good things of their entree salads, which I would love to hit up on a future visit.

Calimari Mata Hari

A Craw Full of Falafel

On the other side of the table, the Garden Weasel. I think Emily made the better choice on dinner with her vegetable-filled sandwich. The weasel is basically a ciabatta roll stuffed with a pile of veggies. It was bursting several layers of flavor. Between the mozzarella and pesto mayo, it’s less healthy than a salad but still well worth the points—certainly more so than my falafel. I would definitely order it again—sometime when I’m not in the mood for a salad.

The Twinkiemissou. Almost. The dessert menu (pdf) lists multiple options that fall into the category of things I wouldn’t normally subject myself to. One in particular is probably the last thing I would ever imagine ordering: “Twinkiemissou.” Naturally, we order it—or at least tried to. As it turns out, they were out of said dessert and offered up a pumpkin roll instead. We went for it, and I was pleasantly surprised. The pumpkin roll flaunted a thoughtful presentation and plenty of flavor. Overall, it was a dessert wroth eating: just like the pumpkin roll you would want to see at an autumn-themed party.

The Garden Weasel—with "tater tots"

The Shiloh-branded pumpkin roll

Overall. I’ll be the first to admit that neither of the Grills’ menus is catering to my tastes, but I do think the entree salads hold promise. That’s probably exactly what I’m ordering next time. Even the hope for some goo salads makes an important point: the grills both serve something for everyone. They somehow manage to please everyone from me (the salad’s biggest fan) to someone more likely to drool over bacon night. That’s no easy task, and I respect any restaurant that can pull it off. Add some beer and an indescribably amazing staff, and you have a restaurant worth getting excited about. I would even call the Shiloh/Harris pair a must-try pair: you owe it to yourself to check at least one of them out.

Rugger’s Pub
www.ruggerspub.com (a work in progress)

40 S. 22nd St.
Pittsburgh, PA 15203
(412) 381-1330

Ruggers first came to my attention on Twitter, after I bumped into one of their bar tenders at the PodCamp after-party (@pghrugbyangel). Based on the limited information I could dig up on the web, Ruggers seemed like exactly the kind of place I like to seek out: the under-appreciated and somewhat unknown local joint. After that initial digging and some friendly Twitter-prompting from Claire, I decided to give it a shot.

The “Ruggers” name highlights backing from several members of the Pittsburgh Rugby Club. I’ve also heard that it’s owned by the same guy that owns Patrick’s Pub up in Moon Township. It’s certainly not really a foodie destination—or even a beer destination, for that matter. Instead, Ruggers is more of a relaxed bar that manages to steer clear of some of the South Side’s more obnoxious revelers. Similar places can be found both on and off Carson Street, but the crowd at Ruggers is distinctly different: a little younger and a little more interested in good beer and better food. Perhaps even more significantly, the menu is far more than a little vegetarian-friendly.

Not a full-sized restaurant. The space is familiar: an elongated corridor with the bar running almost the full length and a handful of tables along the opposing wall. The kitchen, bathrooms, an extra table and a juke box are all packed in toward the back. With limited bar tables—easily outnumbered by seats at the bar, there’s really no need for a designated wait staff; both times I went for food, I just stopped up by the bar and asked for a menu.

Back Half of the Bar

The staff is friendly, though chatty. They seem to occupy a common social circle, so it’s easy to show up and find the most interesting conversation taking place behind the bar. If there’s no one else around, I can’t blame them—it just makes for an odd environment to pull out a laptop and work.

Minimally annoying WiFi. Speaking of my laptop, the WiFi network is free—though protected by a password. I’ll be kind enough to leave the password out of my review, but it’s the kind of thing you only need to ask for once. Easy to pull up on a second visit. I’ll be the first to say that any WiFi password is moderately annoying but probably sensible. That said, a static password is still far more welcome situation than the time-limited Green Light service I’ve run into in some places.

A handful of smokers. I’ll probably be called out if I don’t mention the smoke, so I’ll come out and say it: Ruggers is a somewhat smoker-friendly bar. That’s not to say it’s entirely smoke-filled or that everyone in there is smoking: it just means that you might run into someone smoking at the bar. I don’t consider smoking to be a big deal: for whatever reason, it never bothers me. If it does bother you, then at least you’ve been warned.

Plenty of craft beer draghts. For a small place with just a handful of draft options, the beer list is really quite good. They have a nice representation of styles from Edmund Fitzgerald (my favorite porter) to the Church Brew Works Celestial Gold. In the time since my last visit, the Ruggers site is even online—listing more draft options than I knew they had space for. They certainly aren’t afraid of to run a Labatt special during a Penguins game, but adjunct lagers are certainly in the minority.

Front Side of the Bar

Standard menu with some veggie options. The menu isn’t online for me to review in detail, but it certainly doesn’t contain any surprises—except perhaps it’s size. For a small place with a tiny kitchen, the menu is actually fairly large. I found sandwiches, salads, wraps, burgers, and soup. Rumor has it, the veggie burger is made in-house (not just a frozen patty). I’ve also found that their salads are pleasantly large: even the half-sized salad is around the size of any other restaurant’s entree salad.

First trip: the veggie wrap. The first time I hit up Ruggers, I ordered a veggie wrap. Filled with pieces of Ruggers’ homemade veggie burger, grilled pepper and onion, and even some tomato sauce, there were definitely a number of flavors floating around inside. I’m not one to order fries, but I noticed that pickle chips happened to be an option. Not having ever heard of (or consumed) a pickle chip, I went for it. I’d say the pickle chips were interesting, but probably not worth the points. The wrap was good, though. A nice non-salad option for vegetarians. I won’t say it was exceptional, but I’d definitely order it again.

Veggie Wrap with Pickle Chips

Second trip: the garden veggie salad. My second trip was an odd day for me: a Saturday with a mixed up schedule. I ended up at Ruggers on a Saturday afternoon (around 3pm). It was still light out, and I was basically the only person there. That gave me a chance to get some decent photos and a chance to try another menu item: the garden veggie salad. Afraid it might be a tiny salad, I tried to order an entree version. The bar tender warned that even the half-portion was huge. With that input, I opted for the half-salad—and was surprised to see that it was about the same size as any other restaurant’s entree salad. I would be afraid to even see what the full-sized salad looks like.

Though the salad was big and topped with all sorts of vegetables, I must say it carried an off flavor that I couldn’t quite place. If I had to guess, I would say it came from the roasted pepper topping—which obviously came from a jar. If I ordered again, I’d likely opt to go without the peppers. There were plenty of other vegetables anyway.

Garden Veggie Salad

I’m a supporter. Ruggers is the type of place I like to support: Local, different, and trying to do the right thing. Their staff seems to care about making customers happy, and the menu can be taken in any direction you like: veggie options, enormous salads, soup, or even more traditional bar fare. I won’t say the food is anything write home about, but I will say the beer list is surprising. If smoke bothers you, then I imagine you’ll just stay away; other than that, I’d say it’s worth a shot. If you’re tired of some of the other Carson Street mainstays, then I’d say it’s definitely time to give Ruggers a try.

I’ve been sitting on my notes from my most recent visit for way too long, and the addition of beer definitely means they could use another quick mention. They’re not perfect, but they represent a tend that I can get behind: a low key stop to get some dinner, catch up on email, and enjoy a quality beer.

Carson Street Deli
www.carsonstreetdeli.com

1507 E Carson St
Pittsburgh, PA 15203
(412) 381-5335

Carson Street Deli is nothing new to frequent visitors to the South Side. They’ve been sitting in the same spot and serving up some pretty good deli sandwiches for as long as I’ve been paying attention. They were even a long-time source of Free WiFi (the focal point of my previous write-up).

The big change appeared when home-brewer and beer enthusiast Mike Murphy stepped in and bought the place. Unlike many ownership changes, he didn’t change much at all. The menu remains entirely unchanged, and the WiFi is just as free as ever. The one change he did make was the addition of beer. Without shifting the general layout, Mike squeezed four taps and three coolers full of assorted bottles. Carson Street Deli (CSD) still isn’t anywhere close to a bar; it’s a deli that just happens to serve beer. I think that’s a good thing.

A few good drafts. It’s the beer that changed, so I’ll start there. Being a deli, there’s very little room for much of a draft system; most of the options appear in bottle form. I counted about three coolers opposite the counter all filled with a much wider selection of beer than you would expect in such a limited space. All four draft options are served from behind the counter and include a decent spread of 100% good craft beer. On the night I went, Mike was even pimping an exceptional Belgian Pale Ale. Looking back in his facebook timeline, it seems that night’s list included two Belgians and two American Craft beers that night. Mike is a bit of a hop-head (but he should really start announcing his draft list on Twitter).

Don’t expect to find a bunch of six packs. To maximize space, each type of beer is filed into just one or two rows of bottles. The actual bottle list is more varied than I would have expected. Most bottle shops I visit fall into a familiar theme of a bottle list—shaped largely by their distributor of choice. That didn’t quite feel like the case at CSD. I found a wide range of bottles—including a few options I don’t always run into in Pittsburgh. There’s clearly some passion (and effort) in deploying the list.

Numerous options in just a few coolers

Not much to say about the menu. Deli sandwiches ($6-7) and deli sides ($2-4) round out the entirety of the list. Among those options, I found a handful of vegetarian options, but was hard pressed to find much in the way of a garden salad. Salad toppings may be harder to keep, but the lack of a meal-sized lettuce salad creates a bit of a barrier for me. There are some nights when I’d just rather stick with a light salad—especially if I’m ordering a beer.

Each sandwich specifies a suggested type of bread, but they are only suggestions: the staff seemed happy to switch in the bread of my choosing. In following the trending lead, they also offer to toss any sandwich in the panini press (for another $1).

UPDATE: Turns out, I was wrong on the comment about a lack of salads. CSD offers fresh salads during the day, but pull them out of the display at night. If you twist their arm a little, it sounds like they’d be more than willing to pull one out for you. As with anywhere else, the best way to keep their salads fresh: go there and order one. Show them that you care about good beer and good salad.

Grilled cheese for the beer pairing

When I am up for a sandwich, CSD does a decent job. Because they carry more veggie options than the average deli, it’s fairly easy to skip the meat. For my last write-up I picked up a basic Vegetarian Sandwich on a French baguette. While perfectly good, that choice represents the least interesting veggie option on the list. It’s easily trumped by a black bean baguette (the Veggie “Burger”), a hummus and veggie filled pita (the Veggie Deluxe), or a more Italian-themed Veggie Roma with mozzarella and a few veggies in another French Baguette.

I won’t say that the sandwich list is groundbreaking, but I prefer the quality breads and myriad fillings at CSD to the oversized grease bombs and commoditized cheese steaks of Pittsburgh’s better known sandwich institutions. Many of CSD’s sandwich options are fairly heavy and even calorie-dense, but only a few really go over the top. I appreciate that moderation.

Veggie burger in panini form

Vegetarian sandwich with a side of slaw (from last time)

A staff that cares. On my most recent visit, I opted for a veggie burger. In side-stepping my tendency to stick to the menu, I made some requests: a single patty (who needs two?) and deli mustard to replace the honey mustard. The girl behind the counter took ownership from there—pushing for slices of bread instead of a baguette after I requested the panini option. Her comment: this is going to be the best black bean burger you’ve had. Whether or not it’s true (or she even meant it), it was a nice gesture. It felt like she actually cared.

Good but not quite healthy. Aside from my own faulty decision to combine lettuce with a panini press, the sandwich was good. They opted for a black bean patty nearly identical to what you might get from Morning Star Farms—mimicking the only commercial veggie burger I keep on hand. I opted for pepper jack cheese and whole wheat bread from a loaf that I suspect they had delivered Breadworks (i.e., good bread). The whole thing came together well: plenty of texture from thick slices of bread with the spice of the “burger” still able to through. It wasn’t exceptionally healthy, but I didn’t feel too bad about eating half for dinner. They gave me the flexibility to construct a tasty and reasonably healthy option; really, that’s all I ask.

You should go. It’s no Salt of the Earth or even a Thai Suan Thip, but it doesn’t try to be. Carson Street Deli serves up a nice atmosphere, a clean look, free WiFi, and good beer—not to mention a quality sandwiches (veggie and otherwise). That all rounds up exactly the mix that I look for in a restaurant. The only real downfall: the lack of a decent salad.

If you’re in the South Side and looking for a low key place for good food and beer with minimal fuss, you have every reason to stop in. If you’re looking for a salad or really anything beyond a sandwich, then keep on walking.

After calling, but still armed with minimal details, I took the leap and made my way out to Bellevue to give the new place a try. I was very glad I did.

NOTE: Thanks to some helpful readers, I did eventually figure out the history on the name. Thai Suan Thip literally means “garden of the heavens.” It’s the name of a beautiful garden in Thailand and — at least one commenter notes — it’s the site where the owners were married. Thanks to everyone who posted an explanation!

Thai Suan Thip
(somebody needs a web site)

172 Lincoln Ave
Pittsburgh, PA 15202
(412) 766-1899

Now…it’s about time I take a stab a documenting the existence of place on the web.

A one-room restaurant. Sadly, I had never been to Mojo Bistro; Thai Suan Thip was my first exposure to this space. The single room restaurant is small—even more so than I expected. Despite the small size, I felt ample space between tables—they didn’t feel over-packed. With a single dining room, I suspect there wasn’t any structural change between Mojo and Thai, but the interior decor must have undergone a major overhaul: the space is very highly decorated with Asian-themed figures and artwork throughout the space—especially in the rear toward the kitchen.

When I went, the tables were pre-set with complete place-settings and 3D napkin foldings. With only a single room, a single waiter could cover the whole restaurant. On the week night when I made my way over, there were only a few tables in use, so we really had our choice of where to sit.

Looking toward the kitchen

A tidy place setting.

When they brought me a pint glass. Thai Suan Thip is a BYOB establishemnt—that’s one of the details I called to confirm ahead of time. Usually, when I bring my own beer, restaurants look at me funny. It seems that many restauranteurs always consider BYOB to mean “Bring Your Own Wine” (strange, I know). Usually, that means that no one has any idea what type of glass to bring out when I pull out a beer. Typically I end up with either an over-sized hexagonal water glass or a wine glass (of the two, I prefer the wine glass). TSP TST (“Thai Suan Thip”), on the other hand, brought me an actual pint glass. That’s how they scored their first points.

I’ve always wavered in my feelings on BYOB. On one hand, it gives me the opportunity to take control of my beer options and eliminates uncertainty over the quality of my destination’s beer list. On the other hand, it makes for one more piece of planning—and one more detail to verify before I show up. In this case, I’d say it worked out well.

Mid-sized menus are just fine. For a Thai restaurant, the menu was relatively small, but that’s not a bad thing. As one would expect of any Asian restaurant, many items represented variations on a small number of preparations: curries, fried rice, noodle bowls, and the ever-popular house specialties. I can’t find the menu online, so it’s hard to pull much more detail from memory. I can say that they menu also includes a fairly wide range of soups—and even a desert list (one that we weren’t even prepared to hear).

Being a Thai restaurant, it goes without saying that vegetarian options were available all over the place. Tofu is one of the “meat” options for just about every item on the menu. Turns out, that’s a protein the Thai are quite good at preparing.

Spring rolls

To start: some fresh spring rolls. In continuing a bit of a tradition, we opted for fresh spring rolls to start off. As you can see in the photo, the presentation was beautiful: complete with a little umbrella popping out of a piece of carrot on the plate. Our server explained that the umbrella was an homage to the “spring” in “spring roll”—an item traditionally prepared in the spring and summer months. Think of it as something to block the bright sun.

The biggest flavor coming out of the spring rolls: mint. Thai Basil can be hard to source, but I’ve read that it’s flavor lies somewhere between the basil and mint that we know an love. For the spring rolls at TSP TST, I picked up a big dose of the mint—almost as if the rolls included both basil and mint. Then again, perhaps they even included actual Thai Basil, and I had no idea that’s what I was eating.

The pumpkin curry

The spicy basil.

1
Emily’s pumpkin curry. Based on a friend’s suggestion, my date (Emily) ordered the pumpkin curry with tofu (no really, she likes Tofu). This one came served in a bowl—almost like a soup of coconut cream, pumpkin, and tofu. The bowl was served with a big spoon and large mound of white rice on the side. The pumpkin itself, really came through—which is often hard when you’re talking about pumpkin. For heat, level, Emily had opted for medium, and the dish came out just under the level of heat that I would have expected. If you’re going to land on either side of the spectrum, I suppose that’s the safer way to go.

My spicy basil order. I order spicy basil entirely too often when I go out for Thai or even Chinese (though the resulting dish differs). In this case, I was avoiding the curries to ensure that we ended up with two distinct dishes on the table. At first, I thought I might go for a dish TSP TST called “garlic and ginger,” but the description for the spicy basil pulled me in. Upon receiving my plate, I was quite impressed: lots of fresh crunchy vegetables with a moderately spicy brown sauce (more so than Emily’s curry). Given a choice of meat, I opted for shrimp—thinking it would work well with the dish. If you’re not all up on the seafood (as I am), then the tofu option would be a better choice (and probably be just as good).

The restaurant staff.

Awesome staff. Right before we got up to leave, we received a quick visit from the executive chef: it seems we had shown the waiter just a little bit too much enthusiasm for the food. I get the feeling the waiter and chef were the only two people in the place, and both were quite grateful to have succeeded in pleasing their guests. To me, that’s what makes a great restaurant: an environment where the entire staff is there because they want to provide an experience and a meal that their guests will enjoy. Thai Suan Thip was that kind of place taken to the extreme.

In case you can’t tell, I’m thrilled with Thai Suan Thip. It’s exactly the kind of restaurant I enjoy: food packed with flavor and healthy enough that I don’t have to feel guilty for three days. Add to the mix an awesome staff that seems to care deeply about pleasing their guests, and there’s little doubt that it’s a must-try kind of place. If you’re a foodie in the ‘Burgh or just happen to like Thai cuisine, I highly recommend making your way out to Bellevue to give them a try.

If you haven’t been paying attention, Salt of the Earth is the work of Kevin Sousa. He set out to open his own restaurant an eternity ago, and worked to make it a reality while moonlighting at Yo Rita—turning the place into a notable South Side destination. For the past several months, he’s been away from Yo Rita and making serious progress on Salt of the Earth. The whole time, he’s been informing the world of his progress on Twitter and the restaurant’s blog. It’s working: he’s been generating a huge amount of interest among all types of local foodies.

Salt of the Earth
www.saltpgh.com

5523 Penn Ave
Pittsburgh, PA 15206
(412) 441-7258

If you remember my Yo Rita post, you might also remember my feelings on Kevin. In the past, he has made some negative comments about food bloggers without a culinary background and really maintained tough guy persona that rubbed me the wrong way. At the same time, he continues to churn out restaurants I love—leaving me unsure of what to think.

Lately, I’ve even been told his “tough guy” persona was really only a thin veil—that he’s actually an incredibly nice guy. That nice guy seems to come out a bit stronger in his Salt communications, too. Kevin is embracing a bit of a softer image.

What is Salt of the Earth? The basic idea is closely related to the general theme of casual fine dining: provide great food and a good experience without the pretenses of traditional fine dining. If you read FoodBurgh often, then you know that’s right up my ally. As much as I like the unstuffy atmosphere, some others might praise the reasonable price. You get food representative of fine dining with a price just a touch above an every-day casual dining establishment. Wins all around.

Well-designed castle but still not imposing. I knew from blog posts leading up to the grand opening that the space was architected by Doug and Liza Cruze, but I still had no idea what to expect of the decor. I had read a blog post on the seating, but that’s about the only imagery I had in mind. Having seen the place, the visual scene makes a lot of sense; it fits the expectations I probably should have had. Externally, the building stands like a fortress. Bursts of light shine vertically in between each of the doors and windows, but the overall building appears dark and almost foreboding. Almost.

Inside, the space is open, comfortable and fairly bright. The same chairs and tables pictured in Kevin’s earlier blog post fill the entire room with disparate groups sitting right along side one another. That’s really an exceptionally good use of space: each group takes up only as much space as they need to. You might worry about dining next to strangers, but I didn’t find that to be an issue: the space between groups seemed more than adequate. I hardly even noticed the conversations within the group to my right.

Should you make an reservation? Maybe, but probably not. I went on a Wednesday night and had no trouble getting in without a reservation. I’ve also talked to others who tried to make a reservation for a week night and were blocked out. That makes sense: the vast majority of the restaurant’s seating space is first-come-first-served. That includes all of the long tables in the main room, so reservations really just limit the number of places where you could possibly sit in exchange for a reduction in uncertainty.

Not a Heritage Alt

Service at the drop of a beer name. No really, I walked in the door, spotted my friends, and sat down. After analyzing the draft list (all four options) and the color of my friend Jen’s beer, the words “Heritage Alt” might have slipped out. About 2 seconds later a waiter showed up and commented that he heard me ask for a beer. Maybe that was just a lucky coincidence, but it made an impression. From quality beer (and food) recommendations to a precise overview of every ingredient on our plates, our waiter continued to be amazing: the perfect blend of personality and distance. He even had descriptions of the beer list down pat.

Because I mentioned the size-4 draft list. Yes, there were only four beer options. Yes, that would normally bother me. In fairness, every last option was a good one. The list hit a representative sampling of styles at a the kind of place that might typically ignore the beer list entirely. If you’re looking for a gastropub, it’s not Salt of the Earth. If you’re looking for an outstanding restaurant with a beer list that won’t irritate you, then Salt it is. The latter is typically my target model anyway (though there’s nothing wrong with a gastropub). Did I mention that the beer goes for just $5? Not bad for fine dining.

In case you didn't know if they had a wine list.

An ever-changing menu—with veggie options. There’s really no printed menu: it’s written on a giant chalkboard that consumes a big chunk of the southern wall. Using a chalkboard makes sense here: the menu’s contents rotate fairly quickly—faster, really than the seasons. Based on a side-comment from our waiter, it seems the only thing still on the menu from when the first opened is the pork belly, and that’s likely to go soon. They’ve only been open for a little over a month.

The sections are simple: starters, mains, and ends. The starters ($5-13) really aren’t that much smaller than a main. For some of them, I might even call it a meal. In the typical starters list, options include local produce (apples and figs), full on meat (beef tartare), and even a sprinkling of marine life (scallops or octopus). The mains followed a similar trend: some fish, some land-based meat, and two different vegetarian possibilities. If I had to describe the menu generically, I’d say it’s a typical fine dining menu with about twice the number of veggie-friendly options. I like the focus on a tight, coherent list, and I like the relative abundance of veggies.

My octopus with chorizo appetizer

Jen's sweetbreads appetizer

Emily's apple and fig appetizer

And the food? Is Kevin worth his Salt? Obviously, Kevin is an amazing chef—as demonstrated by his history of successes. I’m even warming up to his personality a little more each day. Still, the question remains: how was the food? I would call it amazing—a feeling enhanced by the exception atmosphere and personable wait staff (and my amazing Friends, Jen and Emily).

For my appetizer, I broke some rules and ordered octopus. The scallops had also caught my attention, and I lean veggie for dietary/health reasons. I tend to be okay with items from the sea—though I’ve been checking EDF’s safe seafood list lately. In this case, the Octopus appetizer included some chorizo (a point I didn’t immediately notice). Truth be told, I ate the octpus and the chorizo. I’m more than willing to break some personal rules for a place like Salt of the Earth. The other significant components included blanched almonds and green olives, both of which contributed significantly to the overall flavor and texture of of the dish.

Really, my only food crticism is in the texture of the octopus. I expect octopus to have a little bit of chew—and I enjoy that aspect. Emily really seemed to enjoy the soft texture of the octopus, but I found it to err a little too much on that side. Then again, I’m a weird sort of texture fiend.

Salmon with buckwheat and mashed cauliflower (me)

That pork belly you keep hearing about (Emily/Jen)

For the main course, I went with the Salmon. This entree came served with buckwheat and mashed cauliflower—all tied together with a dark, soy-flavored reduction drizzled around the edge. The salmon flaked as expected and even included a flavorful crust—all topped with cocoa nib chunks (an intriguing choice). The buckwheat and cauliflower even provided some welcome veggie matter. I enjoyed the cauliflower, but the current menu lists Swiss chard—an even more exciting vegetable addition. I’d say the overall meal was a complete win. Normally, I would prefer to end up with a little less food. I’d rather leave want more than starting to get full. In this case, I felt like I could have dealt with half the portion of salmon—probably due to the appetizer.

That one nagging issue. I typically make an effort to avoid discussing a restaurant’s bathrooms. In this case, a nagging issue came up in discussions later that night. Because it’s something I noticed as well, I’m bringing it up here. The last time I ignored someone’s bathroom commentary, it ended up in the comments anyway, so I might as well lay it out here.

Firstly, the bathrooms were beautiful, spotless and everything you would expect from Salt of the Earth. The one seeming oversight: the odor of the soap. Based entirely on odor recognition, we labeled it as Dial; whatever it was, it carried a strong scent. Sanitary, yes, but with a scent that followed you around for the rest of the night. That smell is the last thing you want to pair with your food, which makes this particular choice of soap stand out as the restaurant’s one major oversight. If that’s the one aspect they get wrong, then so be it; it seems like an easy problem to fix. Then again, if I have to whine about a restaurant’s choice of hand soap, it probably means they’re doing just about everything else right.

Overall? Pulling my thoughts together, there was really never any doubt that this is a must-try kind of place. For those of you with a bit of price sensitivity, this is the most affordable fine dining food you’ll ever find. It’s also the most comfortable you’ll ever be while consuming that food. Between the outstanding service, quality food, and abundant veggie options, Salt of the Earth is pretty high on my list of quality Pittsburgh destinations.

I hate to cave in to the hype, but there’s no denying that Salt stands up to it. Good job guys!

Brgr (East Liberty)
www.spoonpgh.com/lounge.php

5997 Penn Circle South
Pittsburgh, PA 15206
(412) 363-2333

As much as I liked the amazing food and quality wait staff at Spoon, Brgr’s parent restaurant felt just a little stuffy and uncomfortable. Brgr, on the other hand, seems to aim for a highly informal feel. That goes a long way toward meeting my own preference: a stress free, highly casual place to relax over good food and drink. Of course, the menu offers a few salads—but that’s not why you should go there.

For having just opened, Brgr isn’t really a new space. Even a few weeks ago when I went to Spoon, the sign was up and the lounge was filled. Presumably, the only change since that time is the debut of an actual menu. From outside, not much calls attention to the space—just a single, glowing blue sign sticks out over the entrance. Inside, the space is open but tightly packed with tables and a square-ish U-shaped bar tucked into the back-right. The layout is basically unchanged from the days of the 2Red Lounge—the Brgr analog of the former Red Room.

Like every bar in Pittsburgh, flat screen televisions adorn the upper quarter of the dark blue walls walls. During my visit, the screens were on but showing random television feeds. A projector seemed to rotate through an eclectic food-centric slide show, but I’m guessing it projects the sporting event of the day when there’s one to be shown.

Interior sculpture and projected slides

Who frequents a “highly approachable” gourmet burger joint? Perhaps by virtue of the area, the clientele appeared varied. I spotted both a spattering of prep and some highly casual guys lounging over a beer in Steelers jerseys—though a friend claims to have seen more prep than not. The wait staff dressed comfortably: sporting dark jeans and black Brgr tees.

How long before taking a drink order? I’ve heard some complaints regarding service, and I saw some evidence to support those claims while I was there. When a table opened up (after a reasonable wait), we were greeted promptly by a waiter, who awkwardly explained his hope for getting our orders right—apparently that wasn’t the case for his three previous tables. It wasn’t until his third visit that he actually collected drink orders. Only minutes later, we ordered food, but the burgers showed up very shortly thereafter—before those drinks ever arrived. When the drinks did arrive, our waiter seemed lost as to who ordered which drink and even mixed up two of our shakes—mislabelling which was which. When we figured it out at the end of our meal, the waiter just laughed it off.

I’m going to write the service confusions off as a one-off bad day. Everybody has them. Perhaps I could even just blame the new-ness of the place. I note them here only for the sake of being open in my presentation. In reality, I’m typically the last person to fault a restaurant for a single instance of service confusion.

A snippet of the menu

Burgers—plus just a little on the side. As one might expect, the menu featured burgers. Other prominent menu features: shakes and beer. Shakes consumed the far left menu pane while beer consumed the far right. I went in half expecting to find nothing beyond just burgers, but found instead a light sprinkling of salad, antipasti, chili, a hot dog and an assortment of fried items. The default salad came with whole strips of thick-cut bacon, making the veggie burger the menu’s sole vegetarian entree—though the bacon was easy to knock off the salad and probably even easier to request an omission.

Creative names for creative burgers. I’ve seen too many menus with the same old boring burger list. Brgr seems to break that cycle pretty easily. Kobe Beef Burger and Fire in the Whole are fairly standard but names (and constructions) pick up from there. I have to admit a little intrigue in the Banh Mi Burger and absolutely love the with behind the (“secret”) trademark-infringing Double-Double Animal Style. Almost as good as Brgr’s The Dude Abides spiked shake (with Kalua and vanilla vodka). Even the heart attack inducing Bada Bing-Bada Boom is creative: an Italian sandwich on the wrong style of bun.

How about that veggie burger? Truth be told, I can’t stand veggie burgers—at least when they appear on a menu. That’s not suggesting all veggie burgers are bad; they aren’t. Really, they can be quite good when well executed. The real trouble lies in how restaurants tend to use them. I’ve had halfway decent veggie burgers from a freezer and, of course, eaten exceptional veggie burgers from someone’s kitchen. The trouble with veggie burgers on a restaurant menu is really that it’s often just a cop-out. More often than not, its just an item lesser restaurants throw on their menu to appease meat-avoiding diners. So much for eating light.

As one would hope, Brgr’s veggie burger, the Tree Hugger, is an exception. They make their own from “falafel” and lentils. Unfortunately, I didn’t order one this time to note whether the “falafel” is really just cooked and crushed chic peas or actually seasoned and fried before breaking up. With a topping list including hot and sour cucumber, tomato, red onion and goats milk yogurt, Brgr visit #2 is pretty high on my upcoming list.

Brett's average Joe burger.

Various topping options—right on the table.

Soft buttery buns. When you order a burger (as others at my table did), the server asks whether you’re aiming for “pink” or “no pink.” As our server explained it, you’re choosing between just below medium and just short of well done—though the two-way choice gives the kitchen a little room. Creative, I suppose. The burgers themselves showed up with a little pickle stuck on top with the same toothpick that holds the toppings and burger in line. That seems to be universally the case—regardless of the burger. The buns were butter-laden and extremely soft—almost reminding me of the Swenson’s drive-in I remember from my days in Ohio. Honestly, the tall-standing presentation and reasonably-sized burger had more of a cartoon appearance than a “gourmet” burger. I tend to think that was the goal.

Well recieved burger toppings. The toppings went over well with my whole table. Fire in the Hole was reported to offer up just the right level of heat, and a single large portabello on the Shroomz was highly regarded for packing a big mushroom flavor (though that report contradicts the menu’s description). The quiet guy in the back (er, I mean Brett) was even happy that he could order a burger specially suited to his close-talking kin (i.e., the Average Joe).

My ridicule-inducing grilled romaine

You’re kidding me, a salad? Insert the requisite ridicule here, but I knew full well that most of my table would go for a burger. There would be plenty of examples of the restaurant’s namesake around the table, and I was more than a little interested in what they’d do with the salad. The menu describes the sole lettuce-focussed option fairly well. The Grilled Romain is advertised as a grilled head of romaine with roasted tomatoes, blue cheese, avocado, and thick cut bacon.

The actual salad showed up as basically a half head of romaine with very light grill markings on the cut edge (it could have used more). Cold, previously roasted tomato halves were stripped of their skin an plopped down in one piece over top the lettuce. Not-quite-ripe avocado was scattered around the greens down on the plate. The advertised buttermilk ranch came pre-administered. The dressing’s presence had been one of my larger calorie concerns, but it was administered with the light hand of good taste. The dressing was fairly thin—presumably avoiding much (all?) of the mayo listed in he standard recipe. I tend to prefer a balsamic on this style of salad, but we could all use some exposure to new ideas.

The Cup-a-Joe Shake (once we figured out which was which)

Just looking for good beer? Brgr is by no means a beer destination, but that doesn’t mean they don’t do a good job with their list. With a bottle list organized by style and a draft list that features only one macro-lager, the restaurant deserves some significant beer geek cred. You won’t find any really surprising beer, but I didn’t have any trouble finding a style and brand that fit my mood for the night. Overall, the beer situation is pretty good.

It’s also worth noting that the wine list, though small, looked to be at least halfway decent. One could only hope for such an outcome, given their affiliation with Spoon.

I want to like Brgr, so I’m definitely headed back. The fact that someone who avoids burgers like the plague can make such a comment says a lot about the place. Still, I’m not completely sold. There were some service hickups, but such hickups tend not to bother me in the least (especially for a new place). Our server was friendly and appeared to be trying, which is just about all that I would ask for. At this point, I’m already feeling the pull to go back with a different group and at least give their veggie burger shot. For the time being, the place lands squarely in worth a shot territory.