Munch is a bit conflicted about "Sunday Night Football." On one hand, Munch likes reuniting with Jerome Bettis and having national attention showered upon the Steelers. On the other hand, those Steelers take time away from Munch's usual Sunday night excitement, such as folding laundry and cleaning the bathroom and cooking dinner.

Hough's is at 563 Greenfield Ave. in Greenfield. Call 412-586-5944. E-mail Munch at munch@post-gazette.com.

When not one but two Friends of Munch invited Munch to watch the game at Hough's in Greenfield, Munch took it as a sign -- if Munch left the house, Munch wouldn't have to think about house chores. Problem solved.

Hough's (for those reading aloud, Munch has it on reliable authority that it is pronounced Huff's, not Ho's) opened a little more than six months ago in the spot that formerly housed Pickles Bar. Munch knows this, because some of the sign from Pickles is still visible.

Munch hates to get negative right away, but it cannot be overstated how badly Hough's needs a new sign. Their name is currently printed on a hanging piece of fabric, with a random duct tape pattern underneath, surrounded by the old Pickles sign starting to shred into tatters.

The exterior is particularly disappointing because the inside of the bar is nice. Very nice.

The place has that perfect neighborhood- tavern, homey feel, with a dark, shiny wooden bar filling the center of the room, tables and televisions ringing the perimeter and the owners busing tables. Friends of Munch grabbed a table close to a giant projection screen. At times, like when a giant hole opened up in Willie Parker's football pants, it seemed possibly too close.

Shortly after sitting down, Munch spied a beer list on the table. And not just any beer list: Hough's offers more than 60 beers, virtually all of them priced at $4 or less.

Indulge Munch, if you will, in a rant. Any bar can stock Hoegaarden, Guinness and Lindemans Framboise, congratulate themselves on having a classy beer list and call it a day. Many bars do so, and frankly, Munch is tired of it -- although Munch didn't realize that Munch felt quite so strongly until Munch inspected Hough's beer list.

It was inventive. Inspired. Simply splendid. While there were scattered imports on the list, there were many more brews from Pennsylvania (Troegs, Victory, Voodoo) and surrounding states (Great Lakes, Ithaca Beer Co). It was "eating local" for those on a liquid diet.

Maybe Munch is still a little pumped up from the Olympics, but foreign beers -- who needs 'em? USA! USA! Go Steelers!

Munch could go on about the beer list (for example, Munch really likes how they listed the alcohol content of each beer right next to the price), but Munch is allegedly a food writer.

While the food menu was more pedestrian than the beer list, it wasn't bad by any means. Munch and Dear One Of Munch split a perfectly serviceable, though unremarkable, basket of nachos ($3.50) and Munch ordered the chicken cheesesteak sandwich ($6.25) while DOOM ordered the steak salad ($11.99).

In truth, it is hard to screw up any sort of sandwich topped with cheese and grilled peppers and onions. That said, Hough's chicken cheesesteak sandwich was delicious. The chicken wasn't fatty, the onions weren't too greasy and the bread was toasted for a nice crunch.

Munch could review the steak salad, but Munch could also just reenact the "review" of DOOM, who is notoriously finicky when it comes to steak.

Chew chew chew.

"The steak doesn't suck."

Chew chew chew.

"The steak is good."

And there you have it. Practically poetry.

The salad -- which was topped with french fries, cucumbers, tomatoes and cheese in addition to the steak -- was so big that it seemed to occupy a hungry DOOM for nearly an hour.

Let it also be said for Hough's that -- on a night when darkness fell on so many Steelers fans -- the place did not lose power. And so Munch and DOOM went away fully satisfied at finding a winning establishment at which to watch a winning team.