The Sporting News recently declared Pittsburgh's PNC Park to have some of the finest eats of any ballpark in the US, citing their Primanti Bros. sandwiches. We had never heard of such a thing, and our appetites were whetted. So, we turned a Pittsburgh native for enlightenment. She hit it out outta the park.


Special to AOL Food from Mazie Speakman


Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania is a place with fierce pride and rich local tradition. We brew an eponymous beer, turn gorgeous old churches into dance clubs, bleed black and gold, and we take advantage of industrial spaces turned lofts or music venues. We also put coleslaw and French fries on our sandwiches.


No visit to the Steel City is complete without a visit to an "Almost Famous" Primanti Bros. restaurant.


Open 24 hours and boasting 7 locations around the city (including Heinz Field and PNC Park), Primanti Bros. is something of a finish line to a long night out on the town. Each location basically is a bar. The bartenders and servers themselves are like fixtures; true blue and usually tattooed locals who take the recipe seriously.


Each sandwich starts with fresh, thick Italian bread. What comes next is up to you, as Primanti's offers just about every kind of meat you could imagine. Kolbassi (a kind of sausage) is a Pittsburgh football season staple, and a must if you wish to adhere to tradition. Otherwise, enjoy steak and cheese, fried fish, ham, turkey, pastrami, corned beef, knockwurst or chicken. The piece de resistance, of course, is the addition of coleslaw, fresh French fries (yes, ON the sandwich) and tomatoes. Onions can be added by request.


At completion, the masterpiece stands roughly 7 inches high. Your sandwich will be practically impossible to eat neatly, but you'd be shunned if you attempted to use cutlery to tackle the mound of food. They're served humbly on a sheet of wax paper; a surface necessary to catch all the precious morsels that will surely tumble out if you're not an experienced patron. My personal favorite is the "Ragin' Cajun" chicken sandwich drowning in Heinz Ketchup and hot sauce. If it's advertised as "new" on the painted wall menu, it's just because nobody's bothered to change it in ten years. If your appetite is smaller, try the veggie soup, filled with large cuts of fresh vegetables in a light tomato broth. Or, get them both (not that you'll finish). Nothing on the menu costs more that $6.50.


Several years ago, I was in the Market Square Primanti's and a woman came in wanting her fixins on the side. A hush befell the place. The bartender calmly but firmly asked the woman to leave, instructing her to make a right and head toward Subway. She could have it "her way" there. Everyone cheered and I smiled to myself. It may not make sense to outsiders, but to a native, that woman's request was downright disrespectful.


The story of the sandwich is a love letter to Pittsburgh heritage. It all started during the Great Depression when Joe Primanti set up a cart to feed truckers in the gritty Strip District between 3pm and 3am. In order to allow drivers two hands, the sides (coleslaw and fries) were squeezed in between the bread. A legend was born.


Primanti Bros. is synonymous with Pittsburgh; A bit rough around the edges, hearty, unpretentious, proud, quirky, and memorable. Wash your lunch (or breakfast) down with an Iron City Beer and ask the bartender to tell you about the last Pittsburgh Steeler that came in. That is, if one isn't sitting next to you.