There’s something about this time of year that just makes me wants Mexican food. Is it because of Cinco de Mayo? Probably not. In fact, it is probably just that I always want Mexican food. It is a curse, but one that I hoped to find the cure for at Casa Reyna in the Strip District. You see, the Strip District is ethnic food central, so I figured it would have passable Mexican, especially considering Casa Reyna is an extension of a Mexican grocery store.
Pittsburgh has surprised me in its delicious offerings, ranging simple to upscale. Nonetheless, there is no denying that regular American food reigns supreme in this city even when it is all dolled up. Cure, though, is a bit of a different story. Located in Lawrenceville, it is helmed by 2014 James Beard nominee Justin Severino and is an unvegan paradise. Just be aware that when you come to this paradise, there is a price tag, but it is certainly worth it.
Industry Public House is pretty much the first gastropub I have come across in Pittsburgh. This is shocking, because I have been here for more than 9 months and I couldn’t go more than 9 blocks in the last city I lived in without coming across one. And, as much as I tired of every new gastropub’s attempt to find unique craft beers and craft burgers, I must say I was happy to find both at Industry Public House.
I know, I know. Brunch is getting boring. It’s a little ridiculous covering three of these in a row, but that’s just how my life works sometimes. So, for yet another brunch, I headed to E2 over in Highland Park, but this was a brunch unlike any other. You see, this brunch happened on Passover and thus my options were limited, but not so much that I would have chosen anything differently [EDIT: I have now returned to E2 and had some non-Passover goodness, see below].
Down in South America, coca means a very specific thing. You know, that thing that gave Coca-Cola its name. But up here in Pittsburgh, namely Lawrenceville, coca is for Coca Cafe which, as far as I know, has no connection to cocaine. Instead, it seems to be very connected to brunch. So, with little concern for accidental drug use, we braved the 45 minute wait and got ourselves in for a little Sunday brunch.
At the ripe age of 29, I can proudly say that meat has only positively affected my aging. And now there’s even a study supporting my mostly-biased claim. The study comes from Japan, and we all know to trust the people that brought us Nintendo.
It seems like oh so long ago that I paid a visit to Point Brugge, a nice little Belgian spot in my neighborhood. At the time, I was perfectly aware that the place had a sister restaurant called Park Bruges (so tricky with those mixed up spellings) in Highland Park, but saw no reason to drive to a place so similar to one in walking distance. But, when attempting to grab brunch at the former on Saturday, we were informed that the two restaurants split up their brunch days and only Park Bruges would be serving brunch that day. So, like any brunch seekers, we packed into the car and made our way to the park side of Belgium.
Perched on a corner in East Liberty is a fancy little spot called Spoon. Apparently it comes from the same people behind BRGR, which is supposed to have some pretty good burgers, but I haven’t gotten around to reviewing it yet. But, without knowing Spoon’s origins and simply taking a look at the fancy prices of the place, I decided to order their burger.
With a name like Tessaro’s, you’d kind of expect a place to be Italian. In Bloomfield, Pittsburgh, that is simply not the case. Here, Tessaro’s is an old-fashioned bar with some old-fashioned American food to join with the drinks. The place is pretty well-known for the their burger, but just for a moment I was tempted to order some ribs because it turned out Thursday night was rib night. I quickly came to my senses and narrowed down my burger order.
A quick look at a map may make you think that Indianapolis is a part of The North. You know, the part of the country that won the Civil War. But just a weekend in the city made me think otherwise. When we went to restaurants, we were lambasted for wearing Michigan shirts, because everyone (even the locals) seemed to be Kentucky fans. Yet, there are benefits to The South. Like BBQ. And Indianapolis had a spot called Squealers Barbeque that I just had to try.