The Dish on Dish: Jerome Bettis' Grille 36

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Photos by Frank Kownacki. Click for larger views.

The waitress, wearing the Grille 36 lady waitstaff uniform—a yellow tank top covered by a black tube top, which, let Dish assure you, is a combo flattering to no one—approached the table on the patio outside Jerome Bettis' new restaurant. She proudly told Mr. and Mrs. Dish and their Dining companions that the beer list featured 32 options, "Just like the number 32 Jerome wore."

This kind of error surpasses the inexcusable; and, perhaps, rises to the blasphemous. Not only regarding Bettis, but His heroic predecessor, Franco Harris.

In any event, this snafu was a harbinger of things to come.

Sitting in the evening sun betwixt Heinz Field and PNC Park, Mr. and Mrs. Dish ordered draft beers to slake their thirst. They tasted as though something foul had fouled the tap lines. These beers were sent back.

Mrs. Dish ordered a bottle of Yuengeling. That turned out fine. Mr. Dish ordered an Iron City. Out came an I.C. Light, which was sent back. About 10 minutes later, the proper beer arrived. It was consumed. Another of its kind was ordered. Out came an I.C. Light. It was sent back. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Dinner was ordered. The Dishes and their dining chums were somewhat surprised to find that a side salad was not included in the price of a pasta dinner. Needing greens, Mr. Dish dropped another $3.95 on the foliage, as did Pregnant Lady Buddy of the Dishes. The salad, let it be said, was fine

Entrees arrive. Mr. Dish's rigatoni with spicy sausage looked appealing. Sadly, the sauce was too sweet and too plentiful. 'Twas almost like pasta soup. A nice touch, though, were the whole spinach leaves interspersed in the sauce and pasta. The nice touch was ruined when Mr. Dish realized the kitchen had not been instructed to wash the leafy green before serving. Mr. Dish does not like his spinach gritty.

Impregnating Chum of Dish had a plain 'ol burger topped with cheese and a portabella mushroom cap. The burger was quality, though overdone by medium rare standards. No big deal, though, as ICoD was the first to join the clean plate club at the table of four.

Mrs. Dish had the ribs. An awful lot of ribs. When Mrs. Dish ordered, she was somewhat surprised that the waitress asked her how she wanted them done, assuming there was only one way to have them: Cooked. The sauce, sadly, couldn't be tasted, though the ribs themselves were juicy and meaty; which is just the way one wants one's juicy meat.

PLBoD enjoyed her macaroni and cheese. Though a bit on the cold side when it reached table side, the creamy/crunchiness was pleasing to the palate. Mr.Dish would comment more on PLBoD's dish, but he hates cheese and wouldn't really look at the stuff, let alone taste it.

Complaints aside, Grille 36 has redeeming qualities aplenty. The view and the outdoor seating area make the trip to the river's edge worthwhile. Also, it seems that at the most basic level the quality of the food is more than adequate, meaning that once the kitchen and waitstaff work the kinks out, the overall appeal of the victuals may approach the charm of the atmosphere.

For now, Grille 36 is a pleasant enough place with decent enough food. It can, and likely will, be better. But even if relative perfection is never approached, the retired Mr. Bettis can rely on the patronage of customers such as the guy in his 50s, clad in a replica Bettis jersey (expecting a discount, perhaps?), lounging in a chair on the patio lost in a reverie of number 36's glory days.