Last Sunday I had a day of gluttony of such epic proportions that it warrants two blog posts (neither of which I have gotten around to writing). In response, I decided that my healthy decision for the week would be to track everything in WW and for the remainder of the week, if I wanted to eat anything beyond my daily points, I had to earn those points through exercise (basically, I counted Sunday as using all my flex points). It was a hard week, but I did pretty well. Then Saturday happened. Saturday was certainly not as crazy unhinged as it would have been in my life before WW, but it was definitely not within my daily points. I had a fun evening out with my friend Regina– we went to two holiday parties and had crazy good tacos at Yo Rita! Also there was a ridiculous food adventure described below. This is a very long way of saying that I decided I’m not going to my usual WW meeting this morning but I will be going to a meeting on Thursday, and am writing this blog post to assuage my guilt. I worked hard at WW all week and don’t want to make myself feel bad with a not-good weigh in, in part due to timing. That’s legit, right?
So last night, Mr. Beez went to separate holiday parties for the evening. We managed to get home around the same time. Gripped by the impulse to do something late-night and ridiculous that only comes with having your kid spending the night at her grandparents, I whispered to him:
“Can I ask you to take me somewhere I have never asked any man to take me before?”
Mr. Beez: “Ummmm….?”
Me: “LET’S GO TO RITTER’S!”
Mr. Beez: “Why?”
Ritter’s is a Pittsburgh-infamous diner that has been around since the beginning of time. it’s the kind of place that college kids love after a long night of drinking, or old yinzers have been visiting since forever and swear by. Our waitress had no teeth. There was a large man wearing a tuxedo, chowing down on eggs. There was one very old and angry waitress stomping around in a Santa hat. All the staff were wearing scrubs. Ritter’s is a perfect combination of grease, salt, carbs and fat to fill your belly after a long evening of consuming mind-altering substances. Mr. Beez and I were completely sober, so could not entirely appreciate that angle of the diner.
Mr. Beez ordered a egg and cheese sandwich and fries. They forgot the cheese in his sandwich, but it was not worth the hassle to bring that up. I got the hobo omelette, which is basically a gyro in an omelette. This is what it looked like. It tasted pretty much how it looks, which is a way of saying that Ritter’s is not an establishment that prides itself on sophisticated tastes or techniques.
Ritter’s is what it is. I was excited to visit it for its novelty. Ritter’s will forever have a place in Pittsburghers’ hearts for late-night drunk grub. I, however, have seen what it’s about, can check it off my list of “Pittsburgh places to experience” and instead devote my greasy-spoon diner cravings to my favorite establishment in Pittsburgh: DeLuca’s. Also, If you’re downtown and craving diner food, Hanlon’s is also fantastic. Neither of these establishments leave you with the grease hangover I am now experiencing. A side effect of eating a Hobo Omelette is apparently that you feel like a hobo the next day.