Fries on a sandwich, steel, sports, riots and sports-related riots are all Pittsburgh-y —… Fries on a sandwich, steel, sports, riots and sports-related riots are all Pittsburgh-y — Pittsburgh-esque if you will — but you can always find them elsewhere. However, I dare you to find another city that has so artfully contrived to pack more carbohydrates into a sandwich.

If you’re new to our fine city (welcome!), the inclusion of fries might initially seem like an odd practice, but after an experience or two, I think you’ll find it, if not charming, at least admirable in its practicality and possibility.

Legend — meaning the Primanti Brothers website — has it that the tradition started in the 1930s, when an attempt to determine if a shipment of potatoes was frozen led to some tasty looking fries sizzling away on the grill next to the sandwiches.

Sandwich-seeking patrons were intrigued, so the enterprising Joe Primanti combined the two. History was made.

Sure, you might say, that trick was all well and good in the pre-Cold War era, but is it still effective today? Of course it is — perhaps more so now than ever.

In our hustle and bustle world, who has time to sit down for a multi-part meal? The sprint between classes, jobs and other commitments can leave one with scant time to grab an energy bar or a yogurt, let alone something with a side dish that requires additional eating time. By combining the side of fries with the entree, one can cleverly reduce the intrusiveness of lunch.

To experience this innovation firsthand, seek out the original recipe — branches of Primanti Brothers can be found in several convenient locations, including in central Oakland on Forbes Avenue, in the Strip District and the South Side. You could even enjoy a fry-laden sandwich during a game at Heinz Field or PNC Park.

If you’re resourceful, however, you could try your hand at your own creation with fries from the Original Hot Dog Shop — a Pittsburgh institution in and of itself — Market Central or Five Guys. The world is your sandwich-experimentation laboratory.

Of course, there are many schools of thought on desirable sandwich texture and consistency. Some prefer a no-frills approach, while others relish the crunch of pickles or lettuce or the squish of tomatoes (I am not in the tomato camp).

But while the addition of fries adds a whole new element for sandwich experimentalists, there is, as is the case with most good things, a serious downside. (Me? A pessimist? Surely not).

It’s entirely possible that this would-be time-saving endeavor will do more harm than good. For instance, if an overzealous chef fails to get the proportions right, you might find yourself late to your post-mid-day engagements after having to clean a cascade of fry grease from your clothing.

Of course, you’re free to cultivate a boring culinary palate and disregard this edible Pittsburgh institution, but consider this: In the 80 years since the french fry sandwich’s inception, we’ve seen precious few new sandwich options.

Like finding more places to cram cheese into a pizza, it could be a long time before some modern-day Primanti finds a remotely plausible new addition to a sandwich.