Cleveland’s known for it, but who created it?  

The Polish Boy is a standard in local cuisine with an origin story a bit more complex than its list of toppings.

Most locals credit Virgil Whitmore Sr., a Texas native — who opened Barbecue restaurants across the city — with the kielbasa-based sensation. In the early ‘40s, Whitmore opened his first eatery, Mt. Pleasant Barbecue on Kinsman Road. By the ‘60s, he was focusing all his efforts on building his flagship location in the bustling Lee-Harvard neighborhood.

Virgil Whitmore Sr., his wife Arelia, and children Wayne, Claudette, and Virgil Jr.
Virgil Whitmore Sr., his wife Arelia, and children Wayne, Claudette, and Virgil Jr. taken in around 1942. Courtesy: Whitmore family Credit: Vanessa Whitmore / Whitmore family photos

Folks don’t always agree on how the sandwich came to be. As the story is often told, Whitmore took what he had on hand –  fries, slaw, sausage – and mixed his Southwest tastes with his newfound Midwestern sensibilities. Cleveland witnessed the birth of the Polish Boy.

But Whitmore’s grandchildren, Virgil, Vance, Vernon and Vanessa, share a different version of how the saucy handful came to be. Signal Cleveland spoke with Vanessa Whitmore about her grandfather’s role in the Polish Boy’s history and the creations that followed.

In March, a fire gutted the last Whitmore’s location (at Warrensville Center Road and Harvard Avenue). The family is in the process of rebuilding.Vanessa said they plan to reopen next spring. In the meantime, she said to check out their Facebook page. They’ll be offering some favorite menu items during pop-up events throughout the year.

Virgil Whitmore’s grandchildren pose for pictures. From the left: Virgil III, Vance Sr., Vanessa and Vernon Sr. Courtesy: Vanessa Whitmore
Virgil Whitmore’s grandchildren pose for pictures. From the left: Virgil III, Vance Sr., Vanessa and Vernon Sr. Courtesy: Vanessa Whitmore
Credit: Vanessa Whitmore / Whitmore family photos

What did you hear when you were younger about the origin story of the Polish Boy?

It goes back to maybe 1977 or 1978, when Virgil was working for Grandfather Whitmore. He came home, woke us up, and said, “You got to taste this.” It’s like four in the morning. And we’re like, ‘Oh my goodness, what is that?’ And he said, ‘It’s a Polish Boy!’ and that was my first introduction to it.

Ever since, Cleveland has been known for it, she noted. In other parts of the country, people say, “If you go to Cleveland, get a Polish boy. Yeah, that was my grandfather.”

So the sandwich was invented that night?

From what my brother Virgil told me, Mr. [Ulysses] Dearing — who used to have a place on Harvard — was the one who put together the sandwich, or at least part of it, and then my grandfather popularized it. Now I believe my grandfather added the coleslaw.

The best analogy I can give you is, you know how the McDonald’s brothers started McDonald’s, but then Ray Kroc took it to another level? So that’s the same way it was with the Polish Boy.

Ulysses Dearing standing outside his last restaurant.
Ulysses Dearing standing outside his last restaurant.

What makes your grandfather’s version stand out from the rest?

I think what makes it stand out, as far as the flavor is concerned, is our sauce. Because the sausage is what the sausage is, what gets you is the accouterments. It’s the accouterments.

And that sandwich birthed another?

If you fast-forward to about 1987, I was working at Mt. Pleasant BBQ, which is a family store; my cousins Wendy and Wayne have it now. There’s a customer named John who used to come in, and he never knew what he wanted to eat. My brother Vernon was working there with me; it was a Friday night.

I told John, well, just get one rib, maybe one or two shrimp, a couple of wings, half a shoulder sandwich and a Polish Boy. He decided that was too much bread, and he said, “What if you took the shoulder meat and put it on top of the Polish Boy?”

I said, Vernon, listen to what he’s asking for. Vernon said, “Well, why not?” John would come in week after week and order it, and other customers started saying, “I want that too!”

I’m gonna say three to five months in, my brother Vance pointed out, people just come here and say, ‘I want a Polish boy with 50 cents worth of shoulder meat on top.’Fifty cents wouldn’t get you anything now, right — we need to come up with a name. We came up with the Polish Boy Deluxe. OK, now other area barbecues took the idea, changed it, and changed the name to Polish Girl.

Picture of Whitmore's Bar-B-Q location on Harvard Road.
Picture of Whitmore’s Bar-B-Q location on Harvard Road. The location was gutted by fire in March 2026. The family hopes to reopen in 2027. Credit: Vanessa Whitmore / Whitmore family photos

This city loves its sausages, so you and your brothers whipped up your own creation?

We offer one called a Lew Dog, which is a turkey sausage with pulled chicken on top. The story behind that one is that we went to school with a guy named Lewis Wright. He would always come in and get a shoulder sandwich, but things about his health were changing.

I said, what if we come up with a sandwich for you? I told my brother Vernon, make a Polish Boy with turkey sausage and put chicken on top of it. That way, he gets more flavor, but it won’t have the same impact internally. And so we call that the Lew Dog.

Now the creations are more than Cleveland-famous?

Yep, sure are. And since then, my brother Vance went on a cooking competition on “The Steve Harvey Show.” That was, I think, in 2020. It was him versus the chef from B&M Bar-B-Que. Anne Burrell was the judge, and we won that competition, you know. It’s just something about the Polish Boy. I know different restaurants have their own little nuances. I’ve seen recently that a few people have started putting beef brisket on top of it. In fact, I was thinking I was gonna tell my brothers that when we reopen, we should do that too.

Community Journalism Director (she/her)
I look for innovative ways to center news on community interests so more Clevelanders can have positive, direct interactions with journalists. I seek out different opinions, support emerging journalists, and teach community writing and story development so people can tell their own stories, build their own power and make the change they want to see.