4 Ohio Restaurants That Mess Up Pot Pie & 4 That Serve It Like Grandma Used To
Nothing warms the soul quite like a perfect pot pie with its golden, flaky crust and rich, savory filling.
As an Ohio native who grew up watching my grandmother craft this comfort food masterpiece, I’ve become something of a pot pie detective across the Buckeye State.
Some restaurants nail Grandma’s recipe, creating that magical blend of nostalgia and flavor, while others serve up disappointing dishes that wouldn’t make it past her kitchen door.
Let’s explore the hits and misses of Ohio’s pot pie scene!
1. Bob Evans: Factory-Made Disappointment
My heart sinks whenever friends suggest Bob Evans for pot pie. The chain’s version arrives looking suspiciously uniform, like it rolled off an assembly line rather than emerging from a loving kitchen. The crust lacks that homemade flakiness, instead offering a pale, underbaked top that barely qualifies as pastry.
The filling? A gelatinous mixture with vegetables cut into identical cubes that scream ‘frozen food section.’ The chicken pieces are sparse and often dry, swimming in gravy that tastes more of salt than anything resembling chicken stock.
What truly breaks my pot pie-loving heart is how they serve it lukewarm in the center. Grandma would never! She’d send you back to the kitchen if your pot pie wasn’t steaming hot throughout.
2. Der Dutchman: Amish-Style Perfection
Walking into Der Dutchman in Plain City feels like teleporting straight to my grandmother’s kitchen. The aroma hits first—butter, herbs, and that unmistakable scent of love baked into food. Their pot pies emerge from the kitchen with golden-brown crusts that crack perfectly under your fork, revealing a steaming interior that makes your mouth water instantly.
The Amish-style filling brims with hand-pulled chicken and farm-fresh vegetables that still maintain their texture and color. Nothing uniform here—just honest, chunky vegetables and tender meat in a velvety sauce that tastes like it simmered all day.
What really sells it? The bottom crust remains crisp despite the generous filling. Grandma always said a soggy bottom was the mark of an amateur, and Der Dutchman passes her test with flying colors.
3. Frisch’s Big Boy: Cafeteria-Style Letdown
Remember school cafeteria food? Frisch’s pot pie tastes like those memories—and not in a good way. Last winter, I stopped in during a snowstorm hoping for comfort food and instead got what I can only describe as pot pie parody.
The crust resembled a sad biscuit plopped atop a bowl of thick soup rather than proper pastry. It hadn’t bonded with the filling at all, just floating there like an afterthought. Beneath lurked a bland mixture where the vegetables had surrendered all texture, becoming indistinguishable mush.
The gravy tasted oddly sweet, almost like they’d accidentally added sugar instead of salt. Grandma would have marched straight to the manager! Even more disappointing was the skimpy portion size that left me heading to the drive-thru elsewhere.
4. The Golden Lamb: Historic Recipe Worth Traveling For
Ohio’s oldest inn serves pot pie with the confidence of a place that’s been perfecting recipes since 1803. My first bite at The Golden Lamb in Lebanon transported me straight back to childhood Sunday dinners. Their historic recipe features a crust that achieves the impossible—simultaneously sturdy yet melt-in-your-mouth tender.
The filling showcases locally sourced ingredients with seasonal vegetables that change throughout the year. During my autumn visit, I discovered sweet butternut squash alongside traditional carrots and peas. The chicken comes from nearby farms, pulled into generous chunks that prove they’re not skimping on the good stuff.
What makes it extraordinary is their signature herb blend—a closely guarded secret that includes hints of thyme and something mysteriously wonderful that I’ve never been able to identify. Grandma would approve of keeping some kitchen secrets!
5. O’Charley’s: Identity Crisis In A Bowl
O’Charley’s pot pie suffers from a serious identity crisis. Is it soup? Is it pie? Nobody seems to know, least of all their kitchen. During my last visit, what arrived was essentially chicken soup with a puff pastry hat—not a true pot pie by any stretch of the imagination.
The filling lacked body and substance, sliding around the bowl like it was late for an appointment. Vegetables were so scarce I started counting them—five peas, three carrot pieces, and something unidentifiable that might have been celery. The pastry top, while attractive, had clearly never met the filling until serving time.
Most criminal was the overwhelming taste of bouillon cubes rather than real stock. Grandma would call this ‘cheating’ and refuse to serve it. The presentation might fool Instagram, but it can’t fool someone raised on the real deal.
6. Katzinger’s Delicatessen: Jewish-Inspired Comfort
Katzinger’s in Columbus takes pot pie in a delightfully unexpected direction with their Jewish-inspired version. The first surprise? Their crust incorporates schmaltz (rendered chicken fat)—a technique my grandmother’s Jewish neighbor taught her that creates unparalleled richness and flakiness.
Inside waits a filling that balances tradition with innovation. Classic vegetables mingle with parsnips and dill, creating a bright, complex flavor profile. The chicken is brined before cooking, resulting in meat so tender and flavorful it could stand alone as a dish.
What truly distinguishes Katzinger’s creation is the touch of chicken soup essence that infuses every bite—it’s like they’ve distilled the healing power of grandma’s chicken soup into pot pie form. The individual-sized portions arrive with perfectly crimped edges that hold in every drop of the precious filling.
7. Perkins: Fast Food Masquerading As Homestyle
Grandma would take one look at Perkins’ pot pie and start making that disappointed clicking sound with her tongue. Their version commits the cardinal sin of pot pie preparation—using pre-made everything. The crust has that unmistakable commercial pastry flavor, lacking the buttery depth that makes homemade versions special.
Cutting into it reveals the filling crime scene: gravy so thick with cornstarch it resembles glue, binding together mushy vegetables and mysterious chicken bits. The texture is unnervingly uniform, as if everything was ground together then formed back into food-shaped pieces.
The seasoning relies heavily on salt to mask the absence of real flavor development. When I asked my server if it was made in-house, her hesitation told me everything I needed to know. Grandma’s rule was simple: if you wouldn’t proudly share your recipe, it’s not worth serving.
8. Schmidt’s Restaurant Und Sausage Haus: German Twist On An American Classic
Schmidt’s in Columbus’ German Village neighborhood reimagines pot pie through a Bavarian lens, creating something my grandmother would have studied to expand her repertoire. Their version features a pretzel-inspired crust—slightly darker and chewier than traditional pot pie, with that distinctive pretzel shine and coarse salt sprinkle.
The filling incorporates smoked chicken and traditional German vegetables like cabbage and leeks alongside the usual suspects. A subtle hint of caraway and a splash of dark beer add depth without overwhelming the comfort food essence. Each spoonful delivers the perfect balance between familiar and exciting.
What truly honors grandma’s tradition is their commitment to scratch cooking—they make their stock from roasted bones, creating that irreplaceable foundation of flavor that no shortcut can mimic. The generous portion arrives in a ceramic crock that keeps it hot throughout your meal.