Skaneateles, N.Y. — Beef on weck is a humble sandwich with humble beginnings, invented in the late 19th century by William Wahr. Legend has it that Wahr, a baker who owned a bar, was asked by a customer for a sandwich that could be eaten while standing in his establishment. The German immigrant offered up slow-roasted, thinly sliced roast beef served on a kummelweck roll — a hard bun topped with caraway seeds and salt, and pillowy and doughy inside — perfect for keeping patrons thirsty.
Chicken wings are far more famous, but the Anchor Bar didn’t invent them until 1964, making beef on weck is the original Buffalo bar food. And while the sandwich is readily available across the Nickel City, a proper beef-on-weck is a little harder to find here in the Syracuse area. The Crooked Cattle in Armory Square offers one, as does Coleman’s Authentic Irish Pub on Tipp Hill.
And then there’s the LakeHouse Pub in Skaneateles. Opened in 2012 in the spot formerly inhabited by the legendary Morris’ Grill, it is regarded by commenters at the Where Syracuse Eats Facebook group as having the best beef on weck in the area. LakeHouse Pub is a partnership between Joseph Goethe, Michael Wamp and Dennis Coleman, the latter of the aforementioned Coleman’s on Tipp Hill.
A modest amount of roast beef was piled on the roll ($12) and served with side cups of beef au jus and prepared horseradish. We added razor-thin slices of red onion for extra flavor, but it wasn’t necessary; nor was the ability to add cheddar cheese for an extra 75 cents. The well-seasoned meat also didn’t require the masochistically excessive amount of horseradish that I layered on top, but I find that the only way to enjoy a beef on weck is with tears streaming down my face and my sinuses completely open.
It was an exceptional sandwich, and right priced, from the tender beef to the crunch of the seeds and salt on the roll, to the savory ramekin of au jus that tried as it could to balance out the horseradish. We opted to add a side of fries ($3), which were fresh cut with the skins on the end and cooked until just crispy. They too excelled when dunked in the au jus. All of it paired masterfully with a pint of Guinness ($7.79).
We split an order of pub chips to start. Served with housemade French onion dip, these thin-sliced chips were served hot from the fryer. We appreciated how the kitchen didn’t go crazy with salting the chips, instead letting the intensely savory dip do all the work. This is a dangerous bar snack, if only because I might eat one or two baskets of them by myself…