You might not realize it to look at Munch's pale and doughy physique, but Munch is actually in tip-top health. Total cholesterol? 147. Low-density lipoproteins? 68. Blood pressure is 115 over 72. It's as if Zeus has come down from the clouds to walk among the food critics, with a giant paper bag on his giant godly head.

Tonidale Six Flames Fire Grill, 7001 Steubenville Pike, Oakdale. 412-787-8160.

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What we're saying is, when you're a physical specimen such as Munch, you can afford to make a trip to the Tonidale Landmark Inn, where a meal might kill a lesser critic with a higher triglyceride count. He'd be eating the home-fried potatoes, and blam, his veins would explode, right there on the bar.

It's not food for the faint of heart. Size does matter at the Tonidale, which, thanks to recent renovations to the restaurant and the nearby hotel (one of the first to be built near the old Greater Pittsburgh Airport), now calls itself the Tonidale Six Flames Fire Grill. You probably didn't know that, because you've never been there. You've driven past it a thousand times, right there on Steubenville Pike, just out of reach for the motorists driving on the Penn-Lincoln Highway.

Well, that just so happens to be part of Munch's job description, visiting the places you've driven past a thousand times. "I wonder if that place is any good?" you probably asked yourself as you whizzed by on your way to Bed Bath & Beyond to buy some curtain rods.

The barmaid told Munch that the best thing on the appetizer menu was the "Six Flames Flatbread," which at $6.50 promised to come loaded with provolone, romano, tomato slices and seasoned chicken. The chicken seemed to have disappeared from Munch's flatbread, but that's gonna happen sometimes when chickens are out of season. The flatbread was the size of a garbage can lid.

"Told you it was the best thing on the menu," the barmaid said. "Wasn't it good, hon?" Munch nodded silently in agreement.

While waiting for our sandwich to be delivered, Munch inspected the clientele: a nice mix of reliable locals fraternizing with travelers staying at the old hotel, which in the 1980s was rechristened as a Comfort Inn franchise.

OK, here comes the sandwich. The Twisted Cowboy it's called -- sliced Virginia ham (shouldn't it be beef?), melted Swiss, lettuce, tomato and a bit of barbecue sauce, between a soft, warm pretzel bun ($6.50), plus home fries on the side. It could have used some mustard instead of the ranch dressing it came with. Still, a sufficient sandwich. If Munch had to describe it in a word, that word would be "goo-riffic."

You might think that Munch, so attentive to the food and decor, wouldn't have time to do a thorough inspection of the ketchup. Well, you'd be wrong. You know how authentic Heinz ketchup pours nice and slow? And how some restaurants will reuse the glass Heinz bottles and fill it with low-grade stuff? Now, Munch isn't accusing anybody of anything. All Munch is saying is, at the Tonidale, that ketchup came out awful quick.

Ummmm, what else do you want to know? Entrees: pork chops, veal, fish and steaks, between $12 and $16. They do weddings, $45 a person or so, in the attached reception hall, in case you have family in Pittsburgh and Burgettstown and want to get married at the midpoint. There's a billiards room and a clubby little dance floor and a humongous jukebox and a rear lounge (Poor Richard's) that's separated from the low-ceilinged main bar. Oh, and Sinatra once ate there!

Well, probably not. But now you can say that Munch once ate there, and really, six of one, half a dozen of the other.