Long had I wondered what could be found along Streets Run Road in the South Hills, passing the intersection between it and Clairton Boulevard countless times throughout my life. When I found out about a restaurant located on that stretch of asphalt that was heralded as a well-kept secret, I knew I had a quest to complete.
Located on a byway that would fool anyone into thinking they'd driven off to a distant rural area, Thee Olde Place Inn has a time-worn regality to it both inside and out. A coat-of-arms serves as its insignia. The door, framed by a wall of stone, looks like it came from a Scottish castle. The ceiling of the interiors are cleverly lit in a way that whimsically evokes a starry night. A grand old fireplace can be found somewhere in middle the house. My immediate impression was that TOPI is either a casual neighborhood pub that is good for a burger and a beer or a romantic supper spot fit for lobster and filet mignon by candlelight depending on what your mood or occasion is.
A little girl and her large family were celebrating a first communion in the ornate dining room, so Kay and I indulged in an early dinner at the bar. Motown provided the jukebox soundtrack to our meal as the Kentucky Derby played out on the tube and a conversation regarding hockey and proper lawn care took place between two middle-aged regulars.
My experience was so glowing that I'll ignore the fact that the boneless chicken breast in my Mixed Grill entree was a touch underseasoned and that TOPI's desserts, as moderately appetizing as mine was, come from an outside vendor (our server told us that despite the chef's passion for baking, TOPI is not allowed to bake their own cakes and pies due to some local bureaucratic nonsense that requires the use of a convection oven). Regardless, the flap of poultry was so supple, chewing was almost irrelevant. Completing the dish were ideally executed pieces of grilled New York strip steak and center cut pork chop, the former done medium-rare, the latter done medium. Beyond succulent, both pieces of meat were fragile, charred perfectly, and yielded to knife, fork, and canine with no resistance, making them worthy of the finest steakhouses sans reservations and formal attire. Hidden slyly beneath the proteins were a juicy tomato slice and a heap of fried onion strings.
Accompanying the main course was a golden helping of buttery smashed redskin potatoes that warmed my stomach and heart with starchy, comforting flavors.
An invigoratingly fresh salad dressed with a pungent, housemade Italian vinaigrette served as the palate-renewing prelude to the highlight of the meal: The Crab Au Gratin appetizer.
Served in a crock with magnificently toasted pita triangles that were tasty enough to be eaten plain, the breadcrumb-topped dip itself contained a broiled orange-colored fondue loaded with jumbo lump crabmeat, smoked bacon, and beer cheese. Hedonistic in flavor and texture, each chewy, mildly crispy wedge of bread served as but a vessel for the melted, smelted, gloriously gloppy spread. After running out of pita canapes, we used our dinner rolls to sop up the remainder of the au gratin, not wanting to waste one smudge of this amazingly tempting starter.
Our server, whose name escapes me, was affable, attentive, and never kept us waiting long for anything, honoring any and all special requests without griping and talking us up as if we were recurring customers.
There's a beauty to the clandestine nature of certain institutions that reside in Pittsburgh's southern suburbs, so much so, that I almost feel as if I'm ruining them for everyone simply by reviewing them. Although, come to think of it, why hoard Thee Olde Place Inn's charm for but a few? That would be a crime.
Get over to Baldwin sometime, and let Chefs Dom and Lulu take care of you.
P.S. The Salted Caramel Cake was just fine for what it was and from where it originated. However, might I suggest that TOPI take on some stovetop desserts that don't require an oven like Cherries Jubilee, Bananas Foster, or Cinnamon Crepes? Or some chilled, no-bake items such as homemade ice cream, chocolate pudding, tiramisu or fruit mousse parfaits? All one needs is a fryer for funnel cake or doughnut holes. Creme Brulee only needs a spell under a broiler. A waffle iron can produce wonderful things as well for obvious reasons. Let's hope they consider their options or are able to cut through the legal red-tape eventually.