FRANKIE’S EXTRA LONG HAS BEEN AROUND SINCE 1949 | PHOTO BY HUCK BEARD

Frankie’s Extra Long is Lawrenceville’s oldest family-owned eatery — and its best-kept secret.

Rick and LeAnn Zenk, the proprietors of the 75-year-old bar and grill at 3535 Butler St., don’t have an official website or social media pages; they rely on word of mouth to advertise. That’s only a problem because Frankie’s fans are usually too busy chowing down to talk it up.

In addition to foot-long dogs, Frankie’s is known for its kolbassi (as it’s spelled on the sign out front), meatballs and hot sausage made exclusively for the shop by Cesina’s Sausage in Aliquippa. There’s also a parking lot on the side of the building, a rarity for bustling Butler Street.

Since the place opened on Jan. 1, 1949, the cash-only shop has weathered economic downturns, diet fads, QR codes, the craft beer boom (Yuengling draft is still its best-selling beverage) and Lawrenceville’s transformation from a blue-collar neighborhood to red-hot business district.

How has Frankie’s survived the changes? By staying the same.

Even when the Zenks, who had been longtime customers when they purchased Frankie’s in 1989, installed a new countertop, they hung the original one on the wall and invited patrons to sign it. The regulars don’t want nostalgia, they want the proprietors to maintain the status quo, and that includes the onion scent that permeates the building.

LITTLE HAS CHANGED AT FRANKIE’S OVER THE YEARS | PHOTO BY HUCK BEARD

Frankie’s goes through approximately 300 pounds of the tear-jerking veggies each week. Even now, it’s not unusual to see someone welling up on site; many Pittsburgh expatriates get emotional when they visit because setting foot on that checkerboard floor is like stepping back in time.

“People come in and say, ‘My grandpap brought me here as a kid and it’s still exactly the same,’” LeAnn says. “It’s nice to see them and hear their stories.”

Rick’s been in the banger business for 35 years, yet he still eats hot dogs in every city he visits. He’s almost missed flights because he’s busy talking shop with folks at various airport weenie stands.

Although they have no retirement plans (because they’re having too much fun), the Zenks acknowledge that it’s been a challenge to live up to customers’ sandwich standards since many longtime suppliers, including Sanchioli Bakery in Bloomfield and Stagno’s Bakery in East Liberty, have closed. Mancini’s Bakery, Pittsburgh’s bastion of bread, is the current bun purveyor.

Rick understands the financial hardships businesses face. After he was laid off from his drafting and design job, he pursued the Pennysaver for employment opportunities and saw an ad for Frankie’s, his high school hangout.

PHOTO BY HUCK BEARD

After chewing it over with his wife, who, at the time, worked as an administrator for the now-closed St. Francis Hospital’s engineering and maintenance department, he decided to switch careers. His brother and sister-in-law, Robert and Barbara Zenk, also joined the enterprise. When they died in their 80s, in 2022 and 2023, respectively, their daughter, Kathy Netzel, stepped in as an owner.

Frankie’s employees are family whether or not they’re related by blood. Kate Rotondo, LeAnn’s sister, has been slinging dogs and beers there for three decades. During my inaugural visit to no-frills Frankie’s, she made me feel welcome.

I ordered a signature foot-long with ketchup, mustard and relish. Modern foodies might judge me for such pedestrian toppings, but I wanted to match the Frankie’s logo emblazoned on all of the dining room tables. You just don’t mess with a fine work of art.

PHOTO BY HUCK BEARD

My follow-up experience was on a rainy Friday afternoon. I sat at the bar and chatted with a few regulars who didn’t even have to verbalize their orders; employees knew what to put in front of them.

Food is the focal point because the bar’s decor is sparse. There’s a large mirror, a few handwritten signs taped to the wall and a framed copy of Pittsburgh Magazine from November 1990. I also spotted a black-and-white photo of the local band the SPUDS (Special People Under Doctor’s Supervision) lined up in front of the eatery.

Co-founder Mark Lewandowski and three other members of the group grew up in the neighborhood and, during the 1970s, attended Lawrenceville Catholic, a former high school located near Frankie’s.

“If we cut lunch period and went across the street, the nuns would still bust you for cutting because the onion odor would be too strong on your clothes to deny it,” says Lewandowski, who still calls Lawrenceville home. “It’s a hallmark establishment.”

The SPUDS released their first 45 record in 1979 and have referenced the hot dog shop in songs over the years. Once upon a time, the bar had a stage where musicians could rock out until 2 a.m. These days the business operates from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m., Monday through Friday.

I ordered a hot sausage sandwich (with onions!) and a beer. I’m sure the SPUDS’ supervising doctor wouldn’t consider that a prescription for good health, but at least it put me in a good mood. The food was delicious and gone in a matter of seconds. I would’ve doubled up on the grub, but I was out of cash. I made a mental note to bring a crisp $100 bill on my next visit so I can binge on hot sausage sandwiches; I’m down to my last cent.

Hopefully, that’s the only change I’ll ever see at Frankie’s.