‘Sloppy Bird’ Ohio Shredded Chicken is an unsung microregional hero: Classic CLE Eats & Drinks

A “Sloppy Bird,” a.k.a. the Ohio Shredded Chicken Sandwich, as served with chips, pepperoncini, pickled onion, chips and a cold pop.

CLEVELAND, Ohio – Each week, “Classic CLE Eats & Drinks” examines regional gastronomy from a place of history, folklore and nostalgia — along with a sharing of memories evoked through microregional food.

With Islay’s “Chip-Chop” Ham, we opened a bit of a Pandora’s Box with our readership: “That stuff’s from Pittsburgh!” wrote one reader.

Feedback is especially fevered for fast(er)-food and “budget-friendly” eats that many of us grew up with.

The reader and I have since entered a “Treaty of Pymatuning” agreement: 1) steel towns have a lot of working-class food in common, 2) an Ohio Shredded Chicken Sandwich (a.k.a. “Creamed Chicken,” “Pressed Chicken,” “Sloppy Bird”) is 100% unique to us, and 3) we’ve yet to find one outside of Ohio.

I flipped the laptop closed that day, glad to have beaten the Steelers and stared off in the distance like a victorious Kelce brother. Man, I’d almost forgotten about those sandwiches!

Though broadly considered more of a “northern Ohio” thing, if you had family that came from anywhere rural in the Buckeye State, there was a family recipe kicking around.

Memories of my Mom (and her Mom) making these when I was a wee lad came flooding back. I even remember visiting my Gram at her Lakewood apartment, hitting the ol’ Convenient Food Mart at the top of her street to buy buns for those sandwiches.

Something in my Irish/mid-Ohio roots made these perfect, but “Sloppy Birds” weren’t limited to visiting Gram.

You’d find this gooey concoction at church potlucks, swim meets, hockey games, school lunch lines and concession stands, birthdays — even old-school ice cream stands, where this sando sits proudly alongside hot dogs and bratwurst as a rare, handheld meal on the bill of fare.

When a neighbor’s son graduated from high school years ago, a crock of that creamy unctuousness appeared in the party’s garage buffet line across the street. Resistance was futile.

A “Sloppy Bird” (nickname derived from “Sloppy Joe,” natch) was always a compelling “secret recipe.”

Like a pot of chili or beef stew, the bricolage of ingredients was assembled with love, slapdashery and a pinch of “Midwest ‘Ope” — guarded by family of origin like they were sitting on the Colonel’s “KFC 11″ or something.

The sandos were always budge-friendly, in that you could make them with ingredients from your pantry, along with tougher/older chicken that was past reproductive age and (presumably) not as tender.

It would need to stew for hours to become something more palatable.

While the base recipe is the same (shredded chicken, cream soup, salt and pepper) everyone’s recipes are different. Some insist on adding potato chips to the cauldron for a starchy texture. Others use crushed Ritz (or other) crackers, stuffing mix, along with cheese, cream cheese, and Velveeta.

One friend told me their recipe is shredded chicken, a touch of sour cream, one beaten egg, paprika and breadcrumbs cooked together. Definitely giving me the chicken paprikas feels with that description.

Another told me French-fried onions and cream of mushroom soup is their secret — because it’s got a “green bean casserole thing going for it” and “gives off Thanksgiving vibes.” Can’t argue that logic at all, either.

Anyway. Zoom out from that roadmap of flavors and you can see that with different kinds of chips, different cream soups, adjuncts like chopped herbs, pimento, pepperoncini, mushrooms… there are literally thousands of flavor combinations for this singular nosh.

It’s incredibly easy to make on your own and personalize it. Best part? You can yeet that recipe straight into your Crockpot, Ron Popeil-style: “Set it and forget it!” And if even that is too much work for you, as Ina Garten might say, “pulled rotisserie chicken from the store is fine.”

All those ingredients merge into a slippery, saucy delight — with a creamy consistency only slightly thicker than the buffalo chicken dip you’ll find at your next “Superb Owl” party. Scoop some on a bun, crack a cold pop (Cream Soda for me for this meal) and you’re in business.

The bottom bun should be soggy before you’re done eating it.

This is certainly a homespun thing, but there are some places that serve up the creamy goodness during the summer months. Woody’s, Ro’s Custard and RJ Scoops — all drive-in dairy depots in the Canton area — have a shredded chicken sandwich on their menu.

Toft’s Sandusky ice cream parlor menu, Pied Piper in Huron and Romp’s Dairy Dock in Vermilion all come to mind as well — though given the seasonal nature of ice cream stands, you might have better luck finding one at school-, church- or recreation center events.

As is customary with this column, having something actionable is the key. Break out the Crockpot and make your own. Do it now. I just did. Have a look. Not bad, eh?

New Orleans has the Po’ Boy and Muffaletta. Philadelphia has Cheesesteaks and Porchetta. Louisville has the Hot Brown — that open-face turkey sandwich with Mornay sauce, bacon and tomato — and Benedictine tea sandwiches. Chicago has the Horseshoe and Italian Beef.

In our neck of the woods, you’ll hear the Polish Boy bandied about a lot as the representative CLE-area sandwich. I won’t even entertain the “So, now you’re saying hot dogs and sausages on buns are a sandwich?” discussion. Call it what you want, just don’t call me late to order one.

In my world, the only question worth asking after enjoying a “Sloppy Bird” (or two) is, “Why not both?”

Gotta go. Another sandwich awaits.

Each week, Cleveland.com food and culture reporter Peter Chakerian delves into Classic CLE Eats & Drinks. What does it for you and why? Hit him up at [email protected].

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