Pennsylvania was like my mood, dark and cold. During my previous visit, some 8 ½ years earlier, my father and I had buried by mother. Now, it was time to lay my father to rest.

But, in the midst of sorrow, life goes on. One must eat and if one eats, one should enjoy it. I used the trip to make pilgrimages to places I had known in my youth, a chance to connect with earlier, happier times by way of food.

When I was growing up (which is not to imply that I have grown up), going to Pittsburgh was going to the BIG city. It was usually an occasion, such as going to watch the Pirates play back in the days when the Bucs were better than a AAA franchise.

On the road between my hometown and the ‘burgh stood Dick’s Diner in Murrysville (not to be confused with Dean’s Diner in Blairsville which is also on the same highway). Dick’s was a regular stop along the way for our family to one reason – pie, freshly baked pie. The joint’s still standing and the pies are still worth taking a timeout.

Dick’s has about 10 types of cream pies and five or so fruit pies on the menu. A slice runs in the $3.00 to $4.00 range, a bit more if you want ice cream with it.

On my first stop, I went cream – coconut cream to be exact. The slice featured lots of coconut in the creamy body and several inches of meringue on top. If you get a cream pie at Dick’s you’re getting a bunch of meringue, no doubt about it. It was good but didn’t knock my socks off.

Second time by, I tried the peach pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Did knock my socks off, yes indeed. Well, would have knocked my socks off if I’d been wearing any but I actually had on a pair of lined Crocs. Nice and warm, even in the snow and cold, those lined Crocs.

Anyway, I could really taste the peach in the pie. And not that canned peach flavor. These babies tasted nice and fresh. The ice cream was, well, really creamy and was the perfect complement to the fruit pie. Highly, highly recommended, the peach pie at Dick’s.

I’ve previously written about Vincent’s Pizza Park, in Forest Hills just outside of Pittsburgh, calling it my all-time favorite pizza. A friend of mine from college e-mailed me with his recollections, which made me realize the inadequacy of my description of Vincent’s. Doc wrote, “A ceiling lined with grape leaves…it was probably good that they kept the back room dark! The ubiquitous ash hanging at the end of [Vincent’s] cigarette. With the constant cloud of airborne flour, why never a dust explosion?   And speaking of flour, how is it that Vinnie always was covered, head, arms, hands?  [Ed. Note: Even when he’d just emerged from the restroom!] At the time I felt it better to not think too hard about this.”

My return trip to Vincent’s, after more than twoscore years of absence, brought back memories, was certainly tasty but also pointed out, to quote Zach's comment on my Pizza, Pizza post, how, “My taste for pizza has certainly matured as I have grown up.”

It was, as Snoopy used to write, a dark and stormy (snow stormy, to be exact) night as I journeyed to Vincent’s. It had been so long that I’d had to map the route on my laptop, which turned out to be a problem because the map was wrong. The roads were getting worse and worse, my rented car feeling more and more like a small boat on a storm-tossed sea at night. Down a long hill, I went on and on. Is that it? No! Had I somehow missed it??? But then, rounding a left-hand curve, I saw a light, a beacon on the right-hand side of the road. Yes! That’s it! Vincent’s, still in the same building I’d visited years and years ago.

Cosmetically, a few things had changed. A new paint job on the outside. Press clippings on the wall, including one from the Wall Street Journal, dating to the 90’s. Disturbingly, the grape leaf ceiling with grape bunch lights in the back dining room had been replaced by a bland false ceiling with acoustic tiles. Boring!

Vincent was nowhere to be seen. He wasn’t a young man when I frequented the joint during college so I imagine that he’s long since retired. Twentysomething girl making the pizza. I fantasized that she was Vinnie’s granddaughter but didn’t ask.

I ordered my college usual, a pie with sausage and pepperoni. I have no idea how much it cost. The place is cash only and they don’t give itemized receipts. (BTW, if you're at Vince's and cashless, fear not. They have an ATM in the building.)

My Vinnie Pie was pretty much as I remembered. Good sauce.  Right amount of good cheese. Simply bizarre crust — thin at the pie's center, two or more inches thick at the edge with big air bubbles. Pizza thickly covered with julienned pepperoni.  Numerous spheres of Italian sausage almost the size of golf balls. Yum, yum.

Yes, my Vinnie Pie was pretty much as I'd remembered but with one important, unfortunate exception. The charcoal taste that really set Vincent's pizzas apart was noticeable in only a few bites. WTF???!!! New ovens??? Clean ovens??? Them's bad ovens for a Vinnie Pie!

Another thing that had changed was me.  As you can imagine, a pie loaded with pepperoni and sausage generates grease, beaucoup grease. A big pool of grease in the middle of the pan.

In college, we looked at this as a feature. We'd split open the big, fat edge crust, dunk it into the grease puddle, eat and enjoy. Now, the mere thought of doing that sends me running to my Lipitor bottle. I expended a ream of napkins trying to keep the grease away from my pizza.

One quirk of Vincent’s that I’d forgotten is the take out containers. Not boxes. Take out ‘zas are plopped on a flat sheet of cardboard and wrapped with butcher paper. Be careful carrying them home – the grease soaks through the paper and into your clothes if you hold it in the car!

No culinary journey through Pittsburgh is complete without a visit to Primanti Bros. If you've ever seen a televised Steelers home game, you've seen Primanti's featured in the obligatory shots of local food cooking. Yes, it's the place that puts the fries and slaw inside the sandwich.

When I was at school in the 'burgh, Primanti's was even more unusual. They had only one location, in Pittsburgh's Strip District, a warehouse district. It opened at midnight. This might seem like an odd hour to unlock the doors but was very convenient for the truckers that made local pickups and deliveries, not to mention drunken college students. More than once I walked in feeling like I was ready to heave and walked out feeling like a million bucks. Primanti's carb and grease overload was a surer cure than Alka-Seltzer or Pepto.

Times have changed and, for better or worse (mostly worse), so has Primanti's. The original store is now open 24 hours a day. The business has turned into a chainlet, with 15 locations in the Pittsburgh area and two in Florida. They've spawned at least one imitator, Giordano Bros. in San Francisco.

I opted to try the Primanti's location near my airport hotel rather than venture into town. A bit lazy, I'll grant you, but I had places to go and things to do so I chose convenience.

The first mistake many people make at Primanti's is ordering. Too often, even locals go for the cheese steak. It's not a Philly, it's really nothing more than a glorified cheeseburger, albeit one with fries and cole slaw in the sandwich. I ordered cheese steak on my first few visits and couldn't figure out why folks raved about the joint.

Eventually, I cracked the code by listening to the orders of others. The key to enjoying Primanti's is to get the cap, egg and cheese (or if you want to load up on the protein, a double cap, egg and cheese). The spiciness of the capicola plus the liberal dose of black pepper used on the egg turn the sandwich into a taste sensation. (Capicola, for you West Coasters, is called coppa in left part of the country. Don't ask me why.)

My cap, egg and cheese ($6.29 for the base sandwich plus $0.50 for the egg) at the Moon Township Primanti's was simultaneously satisfying and disappointing. The capicola was tasty and the portion generous. The slaw was superb, a sweet and sour vinegar slaw that made me think of really good bread and butter pickles made with cabbage. As standalone fries, Primanti's would suck because they lack any semblance of crispness. In a sandwich, crispy fries wouldn't work texturally so Primanti's are perfect.

On the other hand, the bread was lousy. It was sliced too thin and fell apart way too easily, making the sandwich very difficult to eat. The egg lacked the pepperiness that I remembered from earlier visits, so overall the sandwich was a bit bland.

Frankly, the coppa, egg and cheese sandwich I ate to Giordano Bros. last fall was better than what I had during my Primanti's run. It's a sad day when the imitator outshines the original.

Dick's Diner
4200 William Penn Highway
Murrysville, PA 15668
(724) 327-4566
Map
No web site
Food inspection score: Not located in San Francisco
Symbol of Excellence: N/A

Vincent's Pizza Park
998 Ardmore Boulevard
Pittsburgh, PA 15221
(412) 271-9181
WARNING, NO MAP: Google, MapQuest and Yahoo! all get the location wrong. Google is closest but shows the location to be nearer to I376 than it is in reality. MapQuest and Yahoo! put the location on the wrong side of I376.
No web site
Food inspection score: Not located in San Francisco
Symbol of Excellence: N/A

Primanti Bros.
8651 University Boulevard
at Patton Drive
Coraopolis, PA  15108
(412) 865-2200
Map
Web site
Food inspection score: Not located in San Francisco
Symbol of Excellence: N/A