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| - Kay and I finally dropped by PG&SB prior to catching Trivium and Devildriver at Stage AE recently, the eatery/watering hole's proximity to the concert venue proving invaluable.
In reading some of the previous reviews, I've noticed a heap of scorn being hurled at the service. In all honesty, we had zero issues with the hospitality. Our waiter, whose name escapes me, was friendly and adept. PG&SB was surprisingly barren on a Friday evening, something that put the young, tattooed, light-footed garcon at ease. I'm sure he deserved an easy night for a change. "It's been crazy lately with the big rubber duck and the Pirates. Whew. I'm glad it's a little slow," He said.
Regarding cleanliness, the restaurant was immaculate from what I could tell. I noticed no foul smells, dirty tables, dingy silverware, or spotty glasses.
Why am I only giving them a 3 out of 5? For starters, I should say that my 3 will be a very high 3, but that rating falls short of a 4 (which is what I wish I could give them) due to a dinner that teetered between the markers of "Bravo!" and "Blah" too often.
Once again, I came very close to ordering a burger as I do much too often in restaurants such as these, but deciding to halt that compulsion in its tracks, I rolled the bones and went with a Pittsburgh Steak Sandwich. The shaved ribeye, grilled peppers and onions, and a wad of melted provolone in a mushy, perfect Portugeuse-ish submarine roll was as enjoyable a Philly "wit" as any I could possibly devour in Steeltown. The meat was generous, the cheese was oozy, the vegetables were properly caramelized, stooping sidewalk pleasures were had. I almost wanted to stand up and eat it over a counter.
Those accompanying french fries, however, were quite obviously frozen, something that need not have been. And no, they were not in the sandwich, nor was coleslaw present. Are ya kiddin' me? Cut up some taters, and twice-fry 'em, guys! If I can do it...hell, if teenagers working at Kennywood for the summer can...
Redundancy be damned, Kay and I shared some pierogi for an appetizer. Plump and delicate, they invoked gently boiled ravioli or gnocchi with their garlic butter, sauteed peppers and onions, and Parmesan. Only some marinara sauce was missing, but we made do with that which never fails to tempt tongues and soothe heat: sour cream. Again, writing candidly (as always, despite what my detractors say), PG&SB's pierogi were outstanding and rank among the very best I've ever feasted (beasted?) on.
The Homemade Brownie a la Mode, another obsession of mine, was our shared dessert by default, and wasn't much more than what its title indicates. There were blobs of vanilla ice cream and ribbons of hot fudge involved. It seemed thrown together. The plating was unimaginative, and the brownie itself lacked the fudgy, just-baked oomph I anticipate when I order such a thing. I've heard better renditions of this song, and they've been many.
Damn. Here I am, still weighing my grade.
Look, omitting dessert and those factory fries, PG&SB would garner a 4 from my keystrokes without any nail-biting , but with a run-of-the-mill menu of bar food at hand, this place needs everything to be stellar, and our meal didn't reach enough of those gastronomic highs for me (see Sidelines in Millvale for what typical pub munchies can and should be). In other words, FRESH fries and brownies that murder with decadence need to happen here. Homemade ice cream and hot fudge wouldn't hurt either. Those pierogi and that cheesesteak can most certainly stay.
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