My chipped chopped odyssey to find a real ham barbecue

By Sono Motoyama / Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

When I was assigned to write about the chipped chopped ham barbecue sandwich, I quickly understood that I had been thrown into the deep end of the pool chained to a boulder.

Chipped? Chopped? Ham barbecue? Isaly’s?

As a new Pittsburgher who grew up on Long Island, I didn’t associate any of these terms with a pork product. Besides the strange verbiage, the Pittsburgh ham barbecue territory is fraught with devilish trademark workarounds and the treacherous swamp of people’s memories.

At the library, I picked up a copy of Brian Butko’s book “Klondikes, Chipped Ham & Skyscraper Cones: The Story of Isaly’s.” By that time, I had learned that the family-owned company had basically invented this chip-chop chow. The librarian shared that, though they were poor, his family had occasionally bought chipped ham as a special treat at the Isaly’s in Lawrenceville.

“It was like ice cream for us,” he said.

Memories like those abound, but things have changed since the librarian’s childhood. There were once more than 400 Isaly’s dairy stores (which were also known for their ice cream and, yes, Klondike bars).The company, founded in Ohio at the turn of the 20th century, had spread from Pennsylvania to Iowa by the 1960s. Now there are only a handful still operating nationwide.

My first problem was simply to find a chipped ham sandwich. The Isaly’s on East Ohio Street in East Allegheny does not sell it. The clerks there suggested I go to a Giant Eagle supermarket for the meat. (Lunch meat, cheeses and sauces are still sold under the Isaly’s name, though the Isaly family is no longer involved.) But I wanted a pre-made sandwich, not to make one at home.

That afternoon, in an unsuccessful scavenger-like hunt, I went from deli to deli — five in all — where one after another counter clerk said, “No, but why don’t you try X?”

Finally, faint with hunger, I settled unhappily for an Italian sub at Primo Hoagies in the Strip District. The clerk there had never even heard of chipped ham.

In a sad comment on my brief, deli-focused investigative career, it was only when a colleague referred me to another source — thank you, goodfoodpittsburgh.com! — that I found out “Where to Find Chipped Ham BBQ in Pittsburgh.”

It turns out that there is a deli in West View that has chipped chopped ham on the menu daily. Though this was once an official Isaly’s, it’s not anymore. Technically, its name is I Shall Always Love You Sweetie, abbreviated as I.S.A.L.Y.S. Other than this bit of legal high jinks, it seems the place is little changed since its mid-century heyday.

Image DescriptionThe interior of the  I.S.A.L.Y.S deli in West View, which was once an official Isaly’s.  (Benjamin B. Braun/Post-Gazette)

Finally! Ham heaven! But here I made another beginner’s mistake. I simply ordered a “chipped ham sandwich” with fries to go. When I got home I was outraged to discover in my Styrofoam box just a regular old ham sandwich.

I should have brushed up on the terminology before venturing into the pressed-meat wilderness. I found out — but please send corrections and complaints to my email if I’m wrong — that “chopped” ham is ham and other pork parts that are formed into a loaf. “Chipping” ham is to slice it as thinly as possible, which gives it a silky texture. (Chipped chopped ham became popular because it was inexpensive compared to other cold cuts.)

Chipped chopped ham barbecue sandwiches, usually shortened to simply “ham barbecue,” are a Pittsburgh specialty. The thinly sliced ham is cooked, or slow-cooked, in barbecue sauce (or a homemade ketchup mixture) and put on a bun. It’s a quick and cheap lunch that people, apparently, make at home.

But again, I wanted someone to make it for me, which brought me to Shop N’ Go, in West Mifflin. Here they serve up a neat little sandwich ($5.50) that you can pick up in your hand, with the meat nestled into a pillowy brioche bun. It hit that junk-food jackpot: salty, tangy, meaty, sweet.

Image DescriptionChipped chopped ham barbecue that you can hold in your hand from the West Mifflin Shop ‘N Go. (Benjamin B. Braun/Post-Gazette)

Not exactly good food, but good bad food. Now you’re talking! I finished with another good-bad concoction they call Chocolate Delight: yellow cake, chocolate pudding and Cool Whip topped with chocolate flakes. A mushy joy.

But my barbecue bonanza was not over. Now it comes down to personal taste, but for me the sandwich ($5.99) at Frisch’s in Whitehall was a bit too heavy on the sauce and too vinegary. Some might like that, however.

Portman’s Farm Market in Bridgeville has only one special sandwich a day, and I had to wait a while for the ham barbecue to queue up. Theirs ($7.95) is extremely generous with the ham and the slightly smoky sauce, making it impossible to pick up and eat with your hands.

Image DescriptionA stacked ham barbecue from Portman’s Farm Market in Bridgeville. (Sono Motoyama/Post-Gazette)

I resorted to a knife and fork and couldn’t finish it. They also have tasty cookies and fabulous-looking pies.

Before ending my quest, I felt I had to give the authentic — except for the-name — I.S.A.L.Y.S. another shot.

On a Saturday afternoon, it was a nostalgia-palooza.

A group of 11 folks who had all graduated high school together in 1959 were having a reunion, creating a hubbub as they pushed tables together in the middle of the room. (“They all want separate checks,” the cashier confided to me later. “And none of them can hear.”)

I ordered a ham barbecue sandwich ($6.99), to which I added the classic potato salad and a very plentiful root beer float that you put together yourself. (They bring you two giant scoops of vanilla ice cream in a stainless-steel blender cup and a large glass of root beer.)

Co-owner Bobby Dominek revealed to me later that, for his ham barbecue, he uses Isaly’s chopped ham and Isaly’s barbecue sauce — both of which you can buy at his counter — mixed with relish and a few secret ingredients, all on a wide, flat hamburger bun.

Image DescriptionBobby Dominek, co-owner of I.S.A.L.Y.S. in West View, with a ham barbecue sandwich and a side of french fries. (Benjamin B. Braun/Post-Gazette)

“There are other brands of chipped chopped ham,” he said. “They don’t want them, they don’t like them. They just want the Isaly’s.”

He said he sells 30-50 ham barbecue sandwiches a week, but other popular chipped ham menu items include the Slammer (a half pound of chipped ham, onions and American cheese on a homemade bun) and the Barnyard (fried egg, chipped ham, bacon, chicken tenders, American cheese, lettuce and tomato on a grilled Mancini’s hoagie roll).

I just stuck to the classic. And I have to say, eating that ham barbecue under an original Isaly’s tin ceiling in a vintage booth surrounded by framed black-and-white photographs and nostalgic fellow diners was indeed a tip-top chip-chop experience.

Image DescriptionOld photos line the walls around  vintage booths in the I.S.A.L.Y.S. in West View. (Benjamin B. Braun/Post-Gazette)

Chipped chopped ham barbecue

2 cups Isaly’s barbecue sauce

¼ cup sweet pickle relish

1 pound Isaly’s chipped ham

6 hamburger buns or kaiser rolls

Image DescriptionIsay’s ham barbecue sauce with french fries. (Benjamin B. Braun/Post-Gazette)

Combine barbecue sauce and relish in a large saucepan.

Bring to a simmer.

Shred ham and stir into the mixture.

Simmer a moment longer.

Serve hot on buns.