Something strange happened this weekend: I left the city and found myself not desperate to return. I flew into Pittsburgh and settled into idyllic Beaver. Having noted a certain hankering for French Onion soup (doesn't that sound about right for a bitter cold winter weekend?), I was directed to Bert's Wooden Indian.
Established in 1948 by WWII veteran Bert Sebastian (with the help of his wife and their siblings!), the venue is the lovechild of a lodge and a greasy spoon. Clad in kerosene lamps, duck wall paper and a large carved wooden Indian, the benches were burgeoning with church goers in black nylons and young mothers tending to babies in high chairs.
We devoured our piping hot soup while looking over the menu. Salty and hearty with cheese, I could have been satisfied with that alone. Regardless, others at the table encouraged sampling an entree.
Although Bert's roots go back to the menu exclusive to their famous pork and ham BBQ sandwiches, the table ordered burgers and curly fries. Photographed above: the pizza burger w/ marinara, pepperoni and mozzarella.