It’s a bit of a family joke that as soon as I land in Baltimore, my hometown, I’m on the hunt for crab. Steamed crabs, crab cakes, crab dip – you name it, if it involves crab, I want it. Last year, I even dedicated a whole piece to my Maryland homecoming, indulging in as much of our signature crustacean as humanly possible. Growing up here, summers were synonymous with crab feasts and that distinct Chesapeake flavor. Returning after years away brought back a wave of nostalgia and a deeper connection to my beloved, complex city.
However, winter in Maryland isn’t crab season. While restaurants might import crabmeat from the Gulf or overseas, local Chesapeake crabs are nestled deep, dormant in the chilly waters. But fear not, because Maryland offers other seasonal delights. Enter pit beef sandwiches, often hailed in food circles as Maryland’s unique take on barbecue. While I grew up savoring these sandwiches, barbecue comparisons always felt a bit off. To us locals, pit beef was in a category of its own. The preparation is straightforward yet iconic: top round roast, grilled over charcoal, thinly sliced to order, and piled high on a Kaiser roll or simple white bread. The quintessential condiment is a zesty horseradish sauce, though sweet barbecue sauce has also become a popular addition over the years.
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The exact origins of pit beef are somewhat hazy. Baltimore food writer Richard Gorelick’s research suggests it gained traction in the 1970s, emerging from roadside stands along Pulaski Highway (Route 40), an industrial artery leading to Baltimore’s northern suburbs. It makes you wonder if initially it was simply called roast beef, and “pit beef” evolved as a more marketable and memorable name.
Regardless of its history, pit beef is undeniably delicious. Chaps Pit Beef, located on Pulaski Highway in a Gentlemen’s Gold Club parking lot, often gets the spotlight on food TV shows as the go-to for this regional specialty. But after my own pit beef explorations, I’ve found myself gravitating towards Pioneer Pit Beef, situated on the opposite side of Baltimore in Catonsville. Pioneer is a no-frills stand with a couple of picnic tables – a true testament to its focus on the food itself. They take their beef seriously, offering it in various degrees of doneness. Before they even slice your sandwich, they offer a sample to ensure it’s cooked to your liking. I always opt for medium-rare, dressed with their tiger sauce, a creamy horseradish mayo blend. Sometimes, I’ll add a touch of barbecue sauce, echoing how I enjoyed them growing up.
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I never make it home before digging in. Even on a chilly day, like my recent visit to Pioneer, I’ll brave the picnic tables and devour my sandwich right there. And no Pioneer Pit Beef experience is complete without an order of their thick, Boardwalk-style fries with gravy. Fries with gravy are another distinct Maryland food quirk – a comforting local favorite I rediscovered after returning home. It’s no surprise I was an early adopter of the national poutine craze.
My Baltimore trip already feels like a distant memory as I’m now traveling across the country, exploring the restaurants that define American dining today. But I know I’ll be back in Maryland this summer – and always open to suggestions for the best pit beef (or anything crab-related!). Feel free to send your recommendations to [email protected]. More from my culinary journey soon.
Your roving critic,
Bill
Pioneer Pit Beef: 1600 North Rolling Road (at the corner of Johnnycake Road — a street name I’ll always love), Catonsville, MD, (410) 455-0015
