The Sandwich Shoppe — Restaurant in Pittsburgh

Upon opening the Styrofoam clamshell container handed over by the waitron with the milky pearlescent acrylics what became immediately clear in taking in with the eyes the token piece of culinary engineering ubiquitously referred to as garden wrap, is that we would be feeding on a prototype, an intention reified, a reification calibrated just to the limit of what was then possible, a nod made incarnate in this nascent, very nascent supremely nascent gesture toward a mollification of the vegetarian pallet. We realize and sympathize with the over weaning necessity to cater to that which has historically made financial sense and that not all restauranteurs Fondle satisfying the taste of gastronomic marginalia. Business is business and most businesses need to sell putrefying flesh in order to get by. We can see, however, that this fossilized hank of lip service offered to nibblers of rabbit food as a kind of relic, a museum piece preserved in varnish like a medieval torture device from eras when such devices were truly employed during a time when the spelling of shop as shoppe was not merely a quaint ribbing of a bygone aesthetic but was actually a legally mandated orthography to be abided by under pain of dismemberment. And that brings us to the atmosphere, a four star affair, that is remote from the feculent days of our stricken European ancestors and so well it is. Quiet and pleasantly dim, the baritone of George Gray filling the space mildly like a distant carnival barker whose exhortations have been mediated by ocean breezes and empty blue air, the ceilings were low and tavernous, the floor tiles as firm as the feet required of them. We imagined ourselves wiling away the hours on the plentiful but not over crowded array of hardwood slabs, staring out the window, striking off at an endless descriptive catalog dissolving reality’s banter into a luminous ticking of epistemology. That would have been nice. Adieu, the Sandwich Shoppe, may your prototype achieve glorious apotheosis or else may you circumvent...

About a year ago, I gave this place a well-deserved 5-star review—check it out. I wanted to place an order for our Steelers tailgate across the street, and although they now show as closed on Sundays, I thought I’d ask if they were still taking orders like last season. I spoke to a woman who instructed me to email my order, which I did on Tuesday, but received no response. I followed up with a call on Thursday, and she assured me that her manager had received the email and would call me back, but that never happened. I called again on Friday, and she gave me the runaround. I offered to place my order right then and there, but she said the manager was unsure about opening on Sunday, and promised he would call me back after speaking to him. That call never came.

Here’s the thing—if they couldn't fulfill the order, they should have just told me instead of ignoring my inquiries. It’s incredibly unprofessional, and I will be spreading the word about this poor...

Terrible experience. Called in to order to-go, ordered stuffed tomato and asked if fries could be substituted in place of another side item. The employee stated yes. Order was picked up by another person. They later handed me my receipt and the total was at least $3 more than expected. I was charged $2.95 for the side of fries. Called Shoppe and the person now being spoken to says there are no substitutions allowed and what was told earlier by the other employee was wrong. This person didn't even try to fix the situation. All she said was, well the online menu should have it posted, no substitutions. I checked, it does not at this time of my review. She will probably hurry up and update now and say it is stated on their menu. Employees at this place obviously need better trained and educated. Also, price's went up. My lunch of a chicken salad stuffed tomato was not worth $10. The side they do give you may as well...