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| - Note #1: The official name of the business is Jim's Famous Sauce.
http://www.jimsfamoussauce.com
Note #2: Credit cards are now accepted.
Note #3: JIm's has no indoor seating. One can either eat in their vehicle in the parking lot or at a canopied table. Take-out is also available. Bakery boxes are used for this purpose, which I've always found nifty for some reason (is it the association with donuts?).
Credit Yelp, specifically Yelena K, for bringing this venerable business, one that's been hidden in a Pittsburgh suburb for 65 years, to my attention. Ever since reading Yelena's review, I had been prickling to come here. A co-worker who lives in the area only excited my imagination further with his anecdotes.
Jim's tale begins in McKeesport, 1927. Tsambikos "Jim" Damianos had arrived on American shores a number of years earlier as a twentysomething from the isle of Greece, and after tiring of working for others in various blue-collar positions around Pittsburgh and elsewhere, he opened the first incarnation of Jim's in a former house on Walnut Street. A shade over 2 decades later, Jim's would be relocated to its current space in a sleepy, residential portion of West Mifflin.
Yeah. Betcha thought West Mifflin was nothing but Century III Mall, chain restaurants, and shopping centers, didn't ya? I did too, not realizing how sprawling the area is and how some parts of it are downright tranquil compared to the madness of Clairton Boulevard. After driving a bit out of our way (a monthly Wal-Mart visit was our excuse for coming out here...go figure...) and damn near hitting Dravosburg (Kay doesn't always pay attention to her GPS), we came across Jim's, abruptly I might add, so much so that we were grateful no one was tailgating the Kaymobile. I had been expecting a shack in the middle of a gravel lot, but what we found was something that resembled a cozy, modest home with a storefront in place of a porch and a manicured, fenced-in backyard.
As I alluded to earlier, the bedrock of Jim's is this arcane, auburn sauce that touches upon tomato sauce, BBQ sauce, and catsup in composition, and according to the advertising can be used in place of any of those condiments. What it tastes like, however, is...well, nothing...until that spice slowly creeps up on the tongue, leaving a burn that rises then descends.
Famous? Perhaps. It took buying a bottle and tasting it by its lonesome via butterknife to truly appreciate it. Having it on a hot dog with grilled onions and peppers had me wondering if my palate was out-of-order for the evening.
Speaking of which, Jim's utilizes Smith's brand hot dogs which are grilled and later broiled while in the bun, creating a uniquely crisp texture and juicier, more savory flavor. This is especially true when one orders a "cheesedog" as I did (hot dogs are generally a twofer proposition for me). The cheese is laid down in flaps as opposed to shredded piles, and when broiled, develops a mildly charred crust.
Burgers are handled in the same manner, and mine (blame hunger) was basically the spawn of a Steak 'n Shake burger and an Eat 'n Park Superburger with its moist flattened patty. L-T-M fan that I am, I was initially dismayed that I couldn't ideally customize my burger, so I settled for cheese, diced fresh onion, and that weird sauce I'm sure not everyone likes (I'm not even sure I like it). A Kaiseresque roll was a interesting and welcome wrinkle.
Jim's also serves up milkshakes and the fundamental ice cream flavors in hard-serve form. I doubt Jim's makes their own ice cream, but whatever brand of chocolate this was, I'd like to know (Breyer's?), since it was rather tasty on a temperate, overcast August evening in a typically communion wafer-ish "cake" cone.
The service was friendly as well as appreciative. The trouble is, I don't know if I appreciate Jim's enough to rate it higher than a 4, and I'm almost reluctant to go that far. Jim's sauce may not have totally captured my heart and stomach, but dagnabbit if I don't like the way they do dawgs, man. That sauce? Keep it. Just gimme the toasty cheese-coated franks.
So yeah. A 4, dude. May Jim's merely be a quaint neighborhood secret no longer.
What to do with that bottle of sauce, though? Eh, Kay did buy some chicken at the Megalomart...
P.S. Jim's pencil-thick, fresh-cut (? I saw skin on them there tater sticks) french fries were not duff in anyway, either.
P.P.S. The prices, while understandably high to some, are pretty much in line with the big fast food chains these days, and heck, I'd much rather be eating Jim's food than The Clown's as should you.
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