Heyo!
I canceled not one but TWO trips this week. Mostly because I wasn’t feeling it. I’ve done that a lot in life—cancel trips—and it feels good! Sometimes, you got to trust the vibe check. Some people call this “flaky” but it’s moreso “get off my ass I’m bound to free will.”
I will be in Philadelphia this coming Thursday/Friday though, and that is something that I can’t cancel. I’m there to investigate hoagies in Delaware County for a Takeout article. Plus, on the way I plan to try some ungodly Altoona hotel pizza (grandma-style with yellow American cheese and salami). I’ve been on a real regional pizza tour this Summer/Fall, and I got to say, a lot of it is confusing. Why cold cheese on warm pizza? Well, I wrote about that, too.
I’ve got plenty of reccs from my hoagie guy (that’s right, I got a hoagie guy) but if you think there’s anything that I need to try in Philly specifically, let me know. What’s the dang move????
Where to Buy Good Oysters in Pittsburgh
Several times a year, my parents ask me to absolutely shred my already golem-like hands by shucking oysters. I don’t want to say that I’m good at it (that’s like saying I’m good at smashing by thumb with a hammer), but I have shucked thousands of them while working at Quality Seafood in Austin, Texas. There’s a mindless yet very painful rhythm to shucking oysters that I don’t particularly care for. It’s why I only do it for my parents. Sometimes, showing love is auditory. Others, it’s using a sharp knife to open a sharp rock for the people who birthed you.
I love oysters, but dammit I’m always disheartened by what’s available in Pittsburgh. At Wholey’s, the lauded fish market located in Pittsburgh’s historic Strip District, I can only find brittle-shelled Virginia oysters. These oysters are a prodigious pain in the dick to open, and the fruits of that labor don’t bear all that much. Virginia oysters taste mild and muddy, and I want a pristine oyster with salty and briny juice.
So, when I got the call that my Dad and Uncle wanted some oysters, I popped over to the Penn Avenue Fish Company. The staff was friendly, and the oysters were fantastic. Wholey’s is great for nostalgic reasons, but Penn Ave Fish Co. simply has a better product.
Raspberry Point oysters come from Prince Edward Island in Canada. They’re small, deeply flavorful, and briny. East Coast oysters always have a delicious salty sea taste to them, as opposed to the clean, earthy flavor of West Coast oysters. These oysters were easy to open (no struggling and shell shredding) and each one was virtually spotless. One dozen Raspberry Point oysters cost $25. A little expensive, but that’s the oyster game. Penn Ave Fish Co. also carries West Coast oysters, but they were out at the time. Probably for the best. Are oysters even worth the price tag? A conversation for another day.
Hot Tip For Shucking Oysters: When your knife is inserted into the oyster’s entry point, twist it, don’t leverage it. Leveraging in a straight up and down motion won’t open every oyster (they’re all different), and moreover, you’re more likely to break your knife doing this.
And again, I’m not big on Chesapeake Bay oysters. My second move is to avoid those altogether.
Yuengling and Dolmades Are a Perfect Combo
In my hometown of New Castle, Pennsylvania, there are plenty of places to enjoy Syrian food and domestic beer. I find this phenomenon to be beautiful, and also to make a ton of sense. Tightly wrapped dolmades are finger food through and through, and when you serve them with a plastic ramekin of garlic sauce, this Middle East classic becomes legendary bar food. I mean, just aesthetically speaking, it looks like a version of mozzarella sticks and marinara.
I love grape leaves. It’s one of my tattoos. Whenever somebody sees it they go “oh, it’s a salad???” and then I go, “yes, it’s a salad.” Because I am not going to be the person who explains their tattoos.
The way Syrian and Lebanese culture permeated through my rust belt hometown is lasting, and it’s something I’ve been writing about more. Not a bad thing to feel more connected to your roots, your community, and your family, right?
There are probably six bars in New Castle where you can sit down, watch the game, eat fried kibbeh, grape leaves, and enjoy a Budweiser. Hell, a lot of these places put grilled lamb on bread and melt provolone cheese on top like a god damn meatball sub. Middle Eastern food fused with Western Pennsylvanian bar culture just amazes me.
Recently, I posted up at Elham on East Washington street to get a tall Yuengling draft and an order of stuffed grape leaves. Elham’s beef and rice dolmades are served tightly wound, warm, and come served with a side of creamy, garlic packed toum. True to the finger food aesthetic of all great bar food, and even a tad bit greasy, pairing these grape leaves with a cold draft beer makes a refreshing and filling bar dinner. Like, $14 altogether (tip included).
Cedars Bar also serves stuffed grape leaves and beer. I wrote about their kibbeh Pittsburgh salad a month back for the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. 7 grape leaves for 7 dollars PLUS toum and garlic bread. Cedars is a bit…seedy…and the food has never really wowed me. Though their kibbeh Pittsburgh salad is unique, the kibbeh itself lacks proper seasoning. It’s basically a meatball with bulgar wheat and some cumin. If you’re interested, in the above Gazette article I included a recipe for my Grandmother’s kibbeh, and that’s got flavor.
And Mister B’s is a six pack to-go store in New Castle that also serves lamb, kibbeh, wings, souvlaki, pizza logs, and yep, stuffed grape leaves. Though most people get food to-go, you can order in, too. There’s nothing particularly exciting going on, but there it is a nice place to curl up and read a book (just kidding it’s the type of place you get a beer and stare at your phone). 12 grape leaves cost $9.50. On Sundays during Steelers games, my Dad will often pick up some fried kibbeh and grape leaves from Mister B’s, then plop down on the couch and scream at the TV. The merging of Western Pennsylvania sports culture and Syrian traditions, who would have thunk it?
Venture even just a little bit outside of New Castle, though, and stuffed grape leaves fall off the bar menus. That’s a shame, because dolmades have all the attributes of great bar food. Here’s hoping that more people adopt dolmades to their bar menus. Enjoy them with a cold brew, and I’m confident you’ll also think they deserve a place in American culture right next to a basket of mozzarella sticks.
Thanks for reading The Move! Yeeeeeeeemotherfuckin’ HAW. If you like what you’re reading, subscribe! And I might I even slightly suggest the PAID option as well. This won’t be free forever, ya’ll!