PHOTO COURTESY OF YINZER’S AMAZING CHEESESTEAKS

After visiting family in Pittsburgh, expats Colleen and Michael Woodhull packed 20 pounds of frozen Isaly’s chipped ham in their suitcases to take back to New Orleans.

PHOTO COURTESY OF YINZER’S AMAZING CHEESESTEAKS

“The TSA was so confused,” Colleen says with a laugh.

The couple tried to sell the local luncheon meat at their Big Easy eatery, but Louisiana natives just don’t appreciate our cold cuts culture. They do, however, flock to Yinzer’s Amazing Cheesesteaks for the Steel City-inspired sammiches.

How are their cheesesteaks different from ones made by Philadelphians, gatekeepers of this Keystone State delicacy?

“Pittsburgh-style means we’re a lot friendlier and less judgmental,” says Mike, who grew up in Washington, D.C., but attended the University of Pittsburgh. “Whether you want it with provolone or [Cheez] Whiz or White American or onions or peppers or ketchup, it’s entirely up to you.”

Just don’t be a jag.

The most popular item is the Cheeseburger Cheesesteak with sauteed onions, pickles, White American cheese, yellow mustard and mayo on an amoroso roll. Yinzer’s also serves soft pretzels with homemade cheddar sauce. One day, Colleen hopes to put her grandmother’s Hungarian recipes into rotation.

Opened in 2021, the restaurant is in the Garden District and has become a destination for Pittsburghers visiting the French Quarter a few miles away. The staff needs to hear only a few syllables to know if a Yinzer’s patron is a yinzer patron. Even the employee from Alabama can detect the dulcet tones of a Picksburgh accent.

The walls of Yinzer’s are painted yellow and adorned with tributes to the 412, from Buccos baseball memorabilia and Pennsylvania license plates to photographs of Mister Rogers, Mean Joe Greene and the Monongahela Incline. They even hung a Kennywood arrow above the door to the restrooms as a subtle reminder to zip up.

PHOTO COURTESY OF YINZER’S AMAZING CHEESESTEAKS

Yinzer’s doesn’t serve booze, but the business is attached to a Steelers bar that the Woodhulls wish would stock some Iron City Beer.

Their black-and-gold brick-and-mortar started as a roving pop-up called Mike’s Amazing Cheesesteaks. The sociology major paid his way through Pitt by making cheesesteaks at Campus Deli and working as a bouncer at Gene’s Place, the beloved South Oakland bar where he met and carded his future-wife on her 21st birthday.

“He gave me a hard time,” says Colleen, a Green Tree native and Point Park University graduate who got her collegiate cheesesteak-fix at Uncle Sam’s Subs.

In a double-yoi of serendipity, I met the Woodhulls in the most Pittsburgh-y way imaginable: I was perusing Isaly’s Facebook page for a chipped ham-themed Ugly Christmas Sweater when someone mentioned Yinzer’s Amazing Cheesesteaks in the comments section.

I contacted the business to find out what motivated them to move dahn ‘ere and we immediately bonded over our mutual love of Gene’s Place. In my 20s, I guzzled a lot of Old German at the Louisa Street watering hole.

Mike relocated to New Orleans in 2013 and Colleen followed two years later to laissez les bons temps rouler, n’at. The transition’s been a slippy slope; the couple’s endured three hurricanes, but feeds thousands of hungry, Hurricane-fueled Mardi Gras revelers each year.

PHOTO COURTESY OF YINZER’S AMAZING CHEESESTEAKS

Gene Ney, the owner of Gene’s Place, visits them annually to eat cheesesteaks, offer advice and chew the fat about Pittsburgh.

“His personality is so friendly and welcoming and caring,” says Mike, who was a Gene’s Place regular before landing the gig as its doorman. “Gene’s has such a warm, cozy environment. It was my first experience relating to a bartender and being excited, not just for the cold beer he poured, but to talk to him.”

The Woodhalls want people, no matter where they’re from, to have the same kind of experience at Yinzer’s.

“There’s an older couple that comes by every other day proudly wearing their Pittsburgh gear,” Mike says. “Walking in here feels like home.”