High Point Lounge: A view with history
Bob Sepesy knows location is everything.
He’s so proud of his cliffside pub, he has regularly gone up in his 1946 Aronca Chief airplane to photograph it and the horseshoe bend in the Monongahela River.
A country block away from Interstate 70, just off the first exit of Toll 43 heading toward California, the university and borough communities lie in clear sight off the deck of High Point Lounge. The 72-year-old owner and his wife, Loretta, have been churning out no-frills pub fare and homemade specialties that have been bringing in the regulars since they bought the place in 1986.
But the couple knows it’s the view that bring day-trippers from neighborhoods like Finleyville and Uniontown.
“It’s been an adventure, keeping and improving this place,” Sepesy said, explaining he cuts steaks – and brush beneath the steep, sheer cliff – as part of his ownership duties since remodeling in 2005. Bob loves his job and his customers, and if anyone ever takes over the place, he’d like to see future generations carry the torch of tradition.
“It’s a hard thing to price. A lot of blood and guts invested here. This place was ready to slide into the river before we got hold of it,” Sepesy said of the building, which was originally a roadhouse built in 1932. The building’s old features were used in a steamy 1984 romantic film titled “Maria’s Lovers,” which takes place just after World War II. The movie poster and other visual testimonials hang throughout the restaurant’s two dining rooms. Other mementos are more personal, like a giant birthday card made by Sepesy’s oldest of 11 grandchildren – there’s two great-grandkids, too – that recalls facts from Sepesy’s birth year of 1944, like how a movie ticket cost 32 cents. But Bob’s seeking something priceless: more time. His path to semi-retirement to spend more time with his family includes a plan to pare back hours to weekends and focus on outside catering.
“I’m not in a rush to get out of here. And part of me never wants to let go because today’s generation, they’re not going to be seeing mom-and-pop restaurants that much anymore. It’s going to be cookie-cutter recipes and copycats all on the same block,” Sepesy said.
Recipes like his dad’s homemade sweet sausage are points of pride Sepesy says he’ll hand off to the next owner because it will preserve history as well as a customer base.
“You can eat a bunch of them. They won’t give you heartburn. They are so tasty and tender,” said Monongahela resident Dave Boden of Sepesy’s “once-tried, never-denied” sweet sausage.
Other in-house specials spice up otherwise customary comfort food, like fried pickles aside a turkey Rachel sandwich. Kids’ items indulge the buttery, savory treatment of the grill and fryer, such as a deep-fried PB&J sandwich. Sometimes tradition is meant to be broken. Other times, a seafood fan might indulge his inner Bubba Gump with a “shrimp and more shrimp” platter, which to no one’s surprise, offers up multiple preparation styles of the succulent crustacean.
The menu recounts some of the pub’s history, and some of it is on the walls, but most of the stories are kept with the man himself. Boden, a regular who brought in his son for the first time one Saturday in April, laughed as Sepesy recounted a wild tale of using his airplane for some, uh, well, he called them “practical jokes.”
“I remember that; you scared the hell out of us,” Boden said, snickering. Sepesy would fly his airplane just a hundred or so feet off the ground overhead of Boden and other rugby players as they were practicing at California University. “It’s funny now, but, phew, I thought we were going to have something dropped on us,” Boden said.
With Cal. U in clear sight, it’s no wonder some of the professors seek out the deck view of the school to reflect. And like a scene straight out of “Cheers,” or a Billy Joel song, a retired history professor was practicing politics out on the porch. Sepesy kept his political water cooler talk light and charming, and even passed out Pittsburgh Passion football tickets when the conversation turned to sports.
There are “no smoking” signs adorning nearly every wall. Yet the oaky smell of a slow-rolling fire greets those who pass the dining room’s hearth.
“This is just a place to relax. I come here because it felt like home the first time,” Boden said.