Whether or not you live in Pittsburgh, if you've met someone who has or does, you've heard the infamous Yinzer accent. In fact, if our friends over at Greg and Donny are telling us the truth, you don't ever even have to leave Johnstown to experience our fantastic own take on the English language (PS, I love those guys, and you really should too).
But moreso than the accent, it's the words and phrases we come up with. There's the classic 'hey yinz guys,' or any combination of words that involves going 'dahntahn' or buying 'chipped ham,' but I have a special interest in entire phrases that are both full sentences and only recognizable to Pittsburghers. It's a good way to find your own people when you're abroad. For example, there's a special place in my heart for whatever displaced or road-tripping Yinzer it was in Cuyahoga Falls who started a "Here we go, Steelers" chant as we were exiting the Blossom Music Center after a Dave Matthews concert. (And to that extent, I have to mention the guy who yelled 'HAIL TO PITT!' at me in the lot for the Alexandria, VA Dave show, which was the last known sighting of my favorite blue & gold t-shirt. Still don't understand where that thing went...)
Anyway, I digress. I'm trying to come up with a comprehensive listing of Pittsburgh phrases, and I'm going to start you off with five that I love.
#5. Kennywood Outfit:
While I've been Googling around, looking for phrases that I may have missed, I found a mention of "Kennywood Outfits." I had almost forgotten this entirely - all the Pittsburgh area schools have 'Kennywood day,' which is a chance for you to buy a really cheap Ride-All-Day pass in the cafeteria on a certain afternoon. Then, on your school's Kennywood Day, you would get all geared up and divide your friends into even-numbered groups (if it was something that divided nicely by four, you were set for pretty much any ride in the park) and head to Kennywood, feeling particularly important, because it was *your* school's day. So of course, for this momentous yearly occasion, you had to pick a Kennywood Outfit, which was the most important thing you'd wear all summer, probably. Unless, of course, you were like my tiny high school, who got stuck with the first weekend in May (or last weekend in April, if we were really lucky) as your Kennywood Day, in which case, you'd never see your Kennywood Outfit because it would be under your snowsuit and scarf.
#4: Kiss My Ass Under the Kaufmann's Clock:
While this phrase is probably now defunct, as our favorite downtown department store has been bought out, I had to mention it. Since I first heard that you could tell someone to kiss your ass under the Kaufmann's clock, I've always found this to be a great retort, particularly when in a verbal hockey debate with a Flyers fan. Although, now that I'm thinking about it, this may not have been such a popular phrase for anyone who wasn't just mastering use of the word 'ass' in or around 1991. But it really should have been! (I know it's a Macy's now, but don't we all know that as the Kaufmann's clock still? Can we bring this phrase back?)
#3: That's It, Fort Pitt:
Anybody who grew up with Pittsburgh parents has probably heard the phrase, "That's it, Fort Pitt." My understanding is that this was originally a slogan for Fort Pitt Brewing Company, but it's used as a general end to things ("The Buccos are under .500 already, and it's only May? That's it, Fort Pitt!") However, as a kid growing up in the 'Burgh, it was also usually the thing your dad said to shut you up when you were whining. "No, you're not getting a pony; that's it, Fort Pitt." Not sure if it was because we were all sitting there going, "What the hell does he mean by that?," but it always seemed to work.
#2: Kennywood's Open:
"Kennywood's Open" is a great phrase, because it means two things at once: not only can you ride the Thunderbolt at the present moment, your fly is down. For people who didn't seem to be clued in to the phrase, we would throw in an, "And the rides are about to begin..." if he or she didn't zip up fast enough.
#1: Anything Mike Lange Says:
No Pittsburgh phrase list would be complete without the famous Mike Lange-isms, which could cover an entire blog entry on their own. (For non-Yinzers: Mike Lange is the radio voice of the Pittsburgh Penguins - fomerly the TV voice. Really, no better sportscaster around.) Although I've never tried it, I bet you could single out your fellow Yinzers at a crowded out-of-town bar during the first round of the playoffs by yelling, "Buy Sam a drink, and get his dog one too!" My favorites are, "She wants to sell my monkey," and "How much fried chicken can you eat?" although the latest, "Slap me silly, Sidney" is kind of growing on me. Other notable Mike Lange-isms: "Scratch my back with a hacksaw," "Michael, Michael, Motorcycle," "Never Teach a Pig to Sing," my former roommate's favorite, "Get in the fast lane, Grandma, the Bingo game is ready to roll," and probably the most-quoted, "Elvis has just left the building." (Is it time for hockey season again yet???)
I plan to keep adding to this list. I'm a sucker for those Things that Aren't There Anymore Rick Sebak films, and a comprehensive only-in-Pittsburgh phrase list is surely going to spawn the next big hit. Help me out - what are your favorites?
For now, this is my list, and that's it, Fort Pitt. :)
Friday, May 21, 2010
Sunday, May 16, 2010
The View
I wanted to share a few pictures I took of the city from LeMont restaurant last month. LeMont is the ever-classy restaurant at the top of Mt. Washington, famous for proposals and fancy work banquets and proms. Despite the stereotypical picture this may paint, it's really a fantastic restaurant, with excellent service, delicious food, and of course, some of the best views of the city.
Also, from now until June 6th, LeMont is offering some unbeatable dinner deals in honor of their 50th anniversary (dinner for two at $50, and a whole list of $25 wine bottles). If you've never been, I really have to recommend checking it out. And if you go, ask if you can sit in Marco's section. He was our waiter the last two times we were there, and I really think he's one of the top waiters in the whole city. Never once did we feel rushed through our meals, and he was funny, charming, and knowledgeable about the entire menu. He even got the bartender to open a special bottle of wine for me so I could try a single glass (it was a Paso Robles wine that is typically only available by the bottle, but being the Central Coast wine afficionado I am, I had to ask).
We went just before sundown, so we were able to enjoy the sky changing colors over the city. The view is so crystal clear from LeMont that you can almost see what's showing on the big screen at the Buccos game across the river at PNC Park. Almost any view from Mt. Washington is beautiful on the right day, but the entire city and the Point are just perfect from this restaurant.
The view at the beginning of sundown.
Looking into PNC Park across the Ft. Duquesne Bridge.
The Point and the city behind it after dark.
Also, from now until June 6th, LeMont is offering some unbeatable dinner deals in honor of their 50th anniversary (dinner for two at $50, and a whole list of $25 wine bottles). If you've never been, I really have to recommend checking it out. And if you go, ask if you can sit in Marco's section. He was our waiter the last two times we were there, and I really think he's one of the top waiters in the whole city. Never once did we feel rushed through our meals, and he was funny, charming, and knowledgeable about the entire menu. He even got the bartender to open a special bottle of wine for me so I could try a single glass (it was a Paso Robles wine that is typically only available by the bottle, but being the Central Coast wine afficionado I am, I had to ask).
We went just before sundown, so we were able to enjoy the sky changing colors over the city. The view is so crystal clear from LeMont that you can almost see what's showing on the big screen at the Buccos game across the river at PNC Park. Almost any view from Mt. Washington is beautiful on the right day, but the entire city and the Point are just perfect from this restaurant.
The view at the beginning of sundown.
Looking into PNC Park across the Ft. Duquesne Bridge.
The Point and the city behind it after dark.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Overwhelmed
Sometimes, this city overwhelms me. It isn't always in a bad way, and really, the good ways that it overwhelms me are what got me thinking about this entry, but I do think it's worth noting that my extremes in moods are quite often linked to this city.
Let me begin by telling a story about Los Angeles.
I lived in Los Angeles for about eighteen months. The part of LA where we lived was actually Burbank, which is home to lots of movie studios and unbearable temperatures. Burbank is in the Valley, which is the San Fernando Valley, home to Valley Girls and the adult film industry. I'm not making that up; Boogie Nights was based on an area about ten miles from our house, and every Tuesday night, the bar down the street from us hosted Porn Star Karaoke, which is precisely what it sounds like it is. (Since you are now wondering, porn stars are excellent at karaoke.)
If you've ever visited Southern California, you know that it is home to two colors, brown and smog-brown. Brown is the color of the mountains and vegetation, and smog-brown is the color of the cloud that hangs over the city any time there is daylight.
Los Angeles is also home to two major weather conditions, which are 'hot' and 'unbearably freaking hot.' In the Valley, the temperature would easily top triple digits in August. In fact, I distinctly remember searching for over an hour for a parking space at Santa Monica beach on Labor Day, because it was only 98 degrees on the shore, and that felt chilly compared to the 117 in Burbank.
There is, however, a minor weather condition, typically seen only from mid-January through February, and this is 'torrential downpour.' Basically, once we were so exhausted with sunlight, the sky decided to spend thirty days dumping water on us, causing all sorts of traffic accidents and flooding conditions, and a leak in the closet that held our hot water tank. And then in March...
We went to San Francisco for a weekend, just to get the hell out of LA, and suddenly, the hillsides... they were green. I'm not just talking like, mildly green, I'm speaking new-birth-of-the-forest freaking Fern Gully green. And there were wildflowers! The hills were covered with little dots of yellow that just coated the side of the road. We were driving up the 5, and I remember thinking, "Holy Jesus, this isn't Los Angeles! What the hell? Has the city finally come to life?" The brown hills were green, the yellowish mountains were green, the wildflowers were everywhere, and on that day, the world was full of promise.
This lasted about a week, and when we drove up the same route to Sonoma for the film festival in the beginning of April, the hills were brown again. The sun had returned and scorched it all, and all I had were the photos we'd taken to prove that LA really had another color stored away somewhere.
That weekend in Sonoma, I made a solomn vow that I was going to get the hell off the West Coast and back to Pittsburgh where I belonged.
The thing about Pittsburgh is that the feeling that the world is alive is what keeps me going. Yes, there are depressing things around every bend, if you're looking. The Pens lost Game 6 to the Canadiens last night, when we really should have won, but as I was rushing home to catch the third period, I passed over the Hot Metal Bridge, and the lights of the city reflected off of the Monongahela, and for one minute, I couldn't worry about the outcome of the game. I knew there was a chance we weren't going to pull through and win it, but I also knew, in that moment, that in a city as beautiful as ours, there was always going to be another chance.
In autumn, the trees here cover such a wide expanse of colors, and the sky in October is just so very, very blue, and the sight from the top of the hill where I live of the Steel Building peeking up over the trees from downtown is just unmatchable. And in winter, that quiet stillness after a huge snowfall, when the trees are hanging low, bare branches outlined in white... it just makes me feel warm.
So maybe it's the fact that I had to live through the shades of brown in Los Angeles that lets me get so overwhelmed with this city's beauty. I'll take it. I don't regret the fact that we spent so much time and money and heart getting beat down on the West Coast, if the trade-off is that I can appreciate this little city so much more fully. This is our first spring in this house, and I have been watching the green burst out on the trees, watched the blossoms erupt pink and then fade into emerald. The Steel Building towers over green now, a million different gorgeous shades, and I just feel overwhelmed - overwhelmed in a good way, struck with the fact that maybe life is, after all, full of possibility and promise.
If I could give this city a hug, I would do it. If I could wrap my arms around Pittsburgh, even on a rainy day, even on the day after a Pens loss, I would do it. In fact, maybe right now is the moment that this city needs a hug. Last night, when I was feeling down, the city lights lifted me up, and if I could tell this city just how much I love it, maybe tomorrow, the sun will shine again and the Pens will bring home a win.
Really, in this city, I think it's quite possible. :)
Let me begin by telling a story about Los Angeles.
I lived in Los Angeles for about eighteen months. The part of LA where we lived was actually Burbank, which is home to lots of movie studios and unbearable temperatures. Burbank is in the Valley, which is the San Fernando Valley, home to Valley Girls and the adult film industry. I'm not making that up; Boogie Nights was based on an area about ten miles from our house, and every Tuesday night, the bar down the street from us hosted Porn Star Karaoke, which is precisely what it sounds like it is. (Since you are now wondering, porn stars are excellent at karaoke.)
If you've ever visited Southern California, you know that it is home to two colors, brown and smog-brown. Brown is the color of the mountains and vegetation, and smog-brown is the color of the cloud that hangs over the city any time there is daylight.
Los Angeles is also home to two major weather conditions, which are 'hot' and 'unbearably freaking hot.' In the Valley, the temperature would easily top triple digits in August. In fact, I distinctly remember searching for over an hour for a parking space at Santa Monica beach on Labor Day, because it was only 98 degrees on the shore, and that felt chilly compared to the 117 in Burbank.
There is, however, a minor weather condition, typically seen only from mid-January through February, and this is 'torrential downpour.' Basically, once we were so exhausted with sunlight, the sky decided to spend thirty days dumping water on us, causing all sorts of traffic accidents and flooding conditions, and a leak in the closet that held our hot water tank. And then in March...
We went to San Francisco for a weekend, just to get the hell out of LA, and suddenly, the hillsides... they were green. I'm not just talking like, mildly green, I'm speaking new-birth-of-the-forest freaking Fern Gully green. And there were wildflowers! The hills were covered with little dots of yellow that just coated the side of the road. We were driving up the 5, and I remember thinking, "Holy Jesus, this isn't Los Angeles! What the hell? Has the city finally come to life?" The brown hills were green, the yellowish mountains were green, the wildflowers were everywhere, and on that day, the world was full of promise.
This lasted about a week, and when we drove up the same route to Sonoma for the film festival in the beginning of April, the hills were brown again. The sun had returned and scorched it all, and all I had were the photos we'd taken to prove that LA really had another color stored away somewhere.
That weekend in Sonoma, I made a solomn vow that I was going to get the hell off the West Coast and back to Pittsburgh where I belonged.
The thing about Pittsburgh is that the feeling that the world is alive is what keeps me going. Yes, there are depressing things around every bend, if you're looking. The Pens lost Game 6 to the Canadiens last night, when we really should have won, but as I was rushing home to catch the third period, I passed over the Hot Metal Bridge, and the lights of the city reflected off of the Monongahela, and for one minute, I couldn't worry about the outcome of the game. I knew there was a chance we weren't going to pull through and win it, but I also knew, in that moment, that in a city as beautiful as ours, there was always going to be another chance.
In autumn, the trees here cover such a wide expanse of colors, and the sky in October is just so very, very blue, and the sight from the top of the hill where I live of the Steel Building peeking up over the trees from downtown is just unmatchable. And in winter, that quiet stillness after a huge snowfall, when the trees are hanging low, bare branches outlined in white... it just makes me feel warm.
So maybe it's the fact that I had to live through the shades of brown in Los Angeles that lets me get so overwhelmed with this city's beauty. I'll take it. I don't regret the fact that we spent so much time and money and heart getting beat down on the West Coast, if the trade-off is that I can appreciate this little city so much more fully. This is our first spring in this house, and I have been watching the green burst out on the trees, watched the blossoms erupt pink and then fade into emerald. The Steel Building towers over green now, a million different gorgeous shades, and I just feel overwhelmed - overwhelmed in a good way, struck with the fact that maybe life is, after all, full of possibility and promise.
If I could give this city a hug, I would do it. If I could wrap my arms around Pittsburgh, even on a rainy day, even on the day after a Pens loss, I would do it. In fact, maybe right now is the moment that this city needs a hug. Last night, when I was feeling down, the city lights lifted me up, and if I could tell this city just how much I love it, maybe tomorrow, the sun will shine again and the Pens will bring home a win.
Really, in this city, I think it's quite possible. :)
Thursday, May 6, 2010
A Food Festive Day
Yesterday was Cinco de Mayo, and like many other Americans, I choose to celebrate this holiday with margaritas and delicious Mexican food despite not really understanding what the point of the holiday is. (Because I don't like to be 'that guy', I looked it up and have learned that its original intent is to simply commemorate the Mexican victory against the French in the 1862 Battle of Puebla, although it is presently celebrated more in the US just how I thought, as a day to appreciate Mexican heritage and culture, and consequently give us an excuse to overindulge in all that fantastic cooking).
However, we Pittsburghers are fortunate enough that we can cross over into two ethnic food worlds, as the St. Nicholas Greek Orthodox Cathedral runs its Greek Food Festival the first week of May, coinciding nicely with the holiday. And yesterday, I was one of those lucky Pittsburghers who got to experience both.
My husband and I decided to hit up St. Nick's for lunch, and we took advantage of the beautiful weather by walking from our house in Squirrel Hill through Schenley Park into Oakland. It was quite a hike, but the scenery was just unbeatable. Here are two pictures we took from the Panther Hollow Bridge in Schenley.
We had missed lunch by the time we got to St. Nick's, but the a-la carte menu runs straight through the day. We wound our way into the church basement (I could write a whole blog about how I love church basements and their random stages and feel of a Bingo game about to begin) and tenatively approached the food.
I am going to admit this right now: those big rotating meat-slab things at the Point during the Regatta have always made me a little terrified of gyros. Even though I lived within walking distance of the Greek Food Festival for six years, I had never been there, and really, the only Greek food I can think of that I've ever eaten was feta cheese and mini spanikopitas at someone's wedding reception. I was a little intimidated.
Lucky for us though, each food name had a description next to it on the order sheet, so I was able to see what sounded like things I'd like and pick those. After we paid and headed upstairs with our selection, I also had to try out the things they were advertising as 'Greek fries.' I don't know how authentic those were, but I was not going to pass up a chance to eat fries under the excuse of supporting a local Pittsburgh organization.
In the end, we decided on these choices:
The bottom left corner is the spanikopita (fillo pastry filled with feta cheese and spinach), above that is souzoukakia (meatballs in tomato wine sauce), next to that is a dolmathe (herbs and rice in a marinated grape leaf), and of course, those fantastic Greek fries (which were really just fries with feta cheese on top). Oh, and that's my carton of raspberry iced tea (I'm really a Marburger farms kind of girl, but so far, the only place in town I can find that serves those besides my old high school is Wholey's). If I'm going to celebrate, I'm *really* going to celebrate ;)
I really can't say enough good things about this food. That spanikopita was fantastic, and I'm really picky about meatballs, but this one was just melt-in-your-mouth good. The grape leaves were probably my least favorite, but even they were still tasty. And the fries? It was as if they had been snatched from the Potato Patch itself. Oh man.
Thankfully, we were a few miles from home with no car, so we got to walk off some of that meal and get ourselves prepped for Food Splurge #2 of the day.
Last night, we headed up Murray Avenue to Cuzamil, which is a tiny Mexican restaurant and bar that you would probably miss if you weren't walking right past it. And that's a shame, because now that La Fiesta is gone (bless its little soccer-game-supplying soul), this is probably the best Mexican restaurant in the city. The El Campesino on McKnight Road is a close second, but if you're staying within the city limits, Cuzamil is really fantastic.
They were packed (as expected), but the Buccos game was on, and we were feeling quite patient, so we ordered a pitcher of margaritas and set to work on the chips and salsa. The pitcher took a little while to arrive, but it was well worth the wait. The blend was light and delicious, a perfect balance of mix and tequila, so it wasn't overpoweringly sweet.
I had the chicken quesadilla, and my husband had the mahi mahi milanesa (I do not really know what 'milanesa' means, but I can only guess it means something like 'lightly breaded and fried in a batter made of amazing'). All the meals come on those huge plates with refried beans, rice, and salad topped with guac and sour cream, just like La Fiesta used to make. This is quite dangerous, as this place is literally less than half a mile from our house, and I no longer have the metabolism of my early twenties when I lived two blocks down from La Fiesta.
The best news of all? Somehow, our day's worth of gluttony spurred the Buccos to beat the Cubbies. I was going to make a comparison about the underdog Buccos being like the underdog Mexicans in the Battle of Puebla, and get all metaphorical to tie things together at the end here but... really, I'm still just working off that pitcher of margaritas ;)
Also, it's only 2.5 hours until the puck drops, and I've got to get my game face on! Let's Go Pens!!
However, we Pittsburghers are fortunate enough that we can cross over into two ethnic food worlds, as the St. Nicholas Greek Orthodox Cathedral runs its Greek Food Festival the first week of May, coinciding nicely with the holiday. And yesterday, I was one of those lucky Pittsburghers who got to experience both.
My husband and I decided to hit up St. Nick's for lunch, and we took advantage of the beautiful weather by walking from our house in Squirrel Hill through Schenley Park into Oakland. It was quite a hike, but the scenery was just unbeatable. Here are two pictures we took from the Panther Hollow Bridge in Schenley.
We had missed lunch by the time we got to St. Nick's, but the a-la carte menu runs straight through the day. We wound our way into the church basement (I could write a whole blog about how I love church basements and their random stages and feel of a Bingo game about to begin) and tenatively approached the food.
I am going to admit this right now: those big rotating meat-slab things at the Point during the Regatta have always made me a little terrified of gyros. Even though I lived within walking distance of the Greek Food Festival for six years, I had never been there, and really, the only Greek food I can think of that I've ever eaten was feta cheese and mini spanikopitas at someone's wedding reception. I was a little intimidated.
Lucky for us though, each food name had a description next to it on the order sheet, so I was able to see what sounded like things I'd like and pick those. After we paid and headed upstairs with our selection, I also had to try out the things they were advertising as 'Greek fries.' I don't know how authentic those were, but I was not going to pass up a chance to eat fries under the excuse of supporting a local Pittsburgh organization.
In the end, we decided on these choices:
The bottom left corner is the spanikopita (fillo pastry filled with feta cheese and spinach), above that is souzoukakia (meatballs in tomato wine sauce), next to that is a dolmathe (herbs and rice in a marinated grape leaf), and of course, those fantastic Greek fries (which were really just fries with feta cheese on top). Oh, and that's my carton of raspberry iced tea (I'm really a Marburger farms kind of girl, but so far, the only place in town I can find that serves those besides my old high school is Wholey's). If I'm going to celebrate, I'm *really* going to celebrate ;)
I really can't say enough good things about this food. That spanikopita was fantastic, and I'm really picky about meatballs, but this one was just melt-in-your-mouth good. The grape leaves were probably my least favorite, but even they were still tasty. And the fries? It was as if they had been snatched from the Potato Patch itself. Oh man.
Thankfully, we were a few miles from home with no car, so we got to walk off some of that meal and get ourselves prepped for Food Splurge #2 of the day.
Last night, we headed up Murray Avenue to Cuzamil, which is a tiny Mexican restaurant and bar that you would probably miss if you weren't walking right past it. And that's a shame, because now that La Fiesta is gone (bless its little soccer-game-supplying soul), this is probably the best Mexican restaurant in the city. The El Campesino on McKnight Road is a close second, but if you're staying within the city limits, Cuzamil is really fantastic.
They were packed (as expected), but the Buccos game was on, and we were feeling quite patient, so we ordered a pitcher of margaritas and set to work on the chips and salsa. The pitcher took a little while to arrive, but it was well worth the wait. The blend was light and delicious, a perfect balance of mix and tequila, so it wasn't overpoweringly sweet.
I had the chicken quesadilla, and my husband had the mahi mahi milanesa (I do not really know what 'milanesa' means, but I can only guess it means something like 'lightly breaded and fried in a batter made of amazing'). All the meals come on those huge plates with refried beans, rice, and salad topped with guac and sour cream, just like La Fiesta used to make. This is quite dangerous, as this place is literally less than half a mile from our house, and I no longer have the metabolism of my early twenties when I lived two blocks down from La Fiesta.
The best news of all? Somehow, our day's worth of gluttony spurred the Buccos to beat the Cubbies. I was going to make a comparison about the underdog Buccos being like the underdog Mexicans in the Battle of Puebla, and get all metaphorical to tie things together at the end here but... really, I'm still just working off that pitcher of margaritas ;)
Also, it's only 2.5 hours until the puck drops, and I've got to get my game face on! Let's Go Pens!!
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