Full disclosure: Before moving to the DMV area and starting as The Baltimore Sun’s new food reporter, I had never had a pit beef sandwich. Embarrassingly, I didn’t even know what tiger sauce was! (For other newbies, it’s a mayonnaise-based condiment flavored with horseradish.)

But it seemed only fitting that my first 5 & Dine covers these parcels of hot, smoky roast beef on pillowy buns, one of Baltimore’s most beloved regional dishes. Now, two weeks into the job and many bites later, I’ve assembled a roundup of some of the best-known pit beef bites in the city. Keep reading for the lowdown on when, where and why to get your hands on these iconic sandwiches.

Beef Barons

Tucked away in the Baltimore Farmers’ Market, Beef Barons could be missed — if it weren’t for a line snaking around several of its other neighboring booths. I waited close to 30 minutes to get my hands on one of these coveted, cash-only sandwiches, which have been available only once a week at the market since its beginnings in 1977.

Expect a mix of traditional and inventive elements in the Beef Barons pit beef sandwich ($12). You’ll start by choosing your bread — sliced white or wheat, or a crostini-style burger bun — before moving down the line and giving one of the pitmasters your doneness preference. I went for medium on all of the sandwiches on this list for consistency (though I’m admittedly a fan of the ultra-rare).

The experience of ordering here is nothing short of theatrical, with a prime view of the open pit. Watch the pitmaster extract thick slices from each tender round, weighing them with precision against a backdrop of smoke columns. I received the sandwich mostly wrapped, with an opening for self-serve toppings at the next table. Options include ketchup, mustard and horseradish, but I went for the thick-chopped onions and sticky, sweet barbecue sauce.

Between toothsome roast beef slices and morsels of caramelized fatty ends, you can expect a memorable bite. You might even be up for braving that rain-or-shine line again. 400 E. Saratoga St.

Chaps Pit Beef

I quickly learned that a pit beef roundup would not be complete without Chaps Pit Beef, which boasts locations in East Baltimore, Aberdeen and Glen Burnie. From a cameo in “The Wire” to a feature on Guy Fieri’s “Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives,” Chaps is well-established as a destination for pit beef in the Baltimore area.

As Director of Brand Operations Mo Parker put it, Chaps has been “at it for a while” — since 1987. The secret to the now-chain’s success?

“We cook over charcoal fire, and we do everything from scratch,” said Parker. “We don’t try to cut corners. We try to use the same product every time.”

I walked up to the Chaps counter and ordered a pit beef sandwich ($10.90) — the “best in Baltimore,” its menu reads — and I very shortly left holding a warm tin-foil parcel of thin-shaved beef cradled in an impossibly soft potato roll. Most people order it medium, said Parker, with raw onions and hickory barbecue and tiger sauces, but “you can spice it up any way that you like,” including with extra-charge toppings such as lettuce, tomato and cheese.

Chaps offers the rarest of the medium temperatures on this list, and the beef has a peppery bite thanks to the restaurant’s proprietary seasoning. You might not be prompted for toppings while waiting in line, so if you want to load up your sandwich, make sure to be proactive — although, from experience, the plain version offers plenty of juiciness and depth of flavor on its own. 720 Mapleton Ave., 410-483-2379; 1013 Beards Hill Road, Aberdeen, 410-297-8700; and 6714 G Ritchie Highway, Glen Burnie, 410-553-4491; chapspitbeef.com

Jake’s Grill

Jake’s Grill’s Cockeysville digs are humble, unassuming and without a real storefront. But the smoky aroma of unctuous roast beef (and the massive outside smoker) guides you to one of the heartiest pit beef sandwiches on this list.

Good luck getting the entirety of your mouth around Jake’s pit beef sandwich ($11.02), which features a stack of lean beef cuts on a crusty Kaiser roll. At the table next to the counter, find a toppings bar with thinly-shaved onions, barbecue and tiger sauces, and classic sandwich condiments. Most diners take their sandwiches to go, but limited seating is available inside — don’t expect cushy booths or other dining company but friendly hospitality.

The barbecue sauce at Jake’s is deep and smoky, and everything about the sandwich is massive and designed to satiate. Each bite of the sandwich takes a good amount of time to chew, a symptom of its sheer volume and thick pieces. If you’re looking to make a meal (or maybe two) out of a single sandwich, this spot might be your best bet. 11950 Falls Road, Cockeysville, jakesgrill.shop

@jerkwerks

While attending reggae festivals every year in Jamaica, @jerkwerks founder and chef Antonio Baines was inspired to bring bold jerk flavors back home to Baltimore. Today, he’s known as “The General’s Jerk” and has churned out his signature jerk chicken and pit beef across the city. The brand has become a cult favorite and the definition of an “if you know, you know” dining fixture — fans religiously check the Instagram account for announcements about his latest pop-ups, which he usually holds Sundays. Most recently, I spotted him filling the 26th Street Green with an intoxicating, spicy smoke ahead of a block party.

If your usual qualm about pit beef is that it lacks proper seasoning, let Baines prove you wrong with his well-rubbed beef sandwich ($10 for 5 ounces; $14 for 8 ounces), which, as you would expect from a jerk chicken aficionado, packs plenty of flavor on a flour-dusted Kaiser roll. Despite its zest and gentle heat, Baines insists that he keeps his recipe simple.

“I basically only do a Worcester wash on it, then I salt it, let it rest and use pepper, granulated garlic and a little bit of cayenne,” he said. “I grew up eating beef — it’s basically the poor man’s barbecue in Baltimore. It’s not supposed to be fancy.”

Things only get better when you douse your sandwich in Baines’s homemade barbecue and tiger sauces, the latter of which helps break up the umami-rich meat with a hit of lemon juice. The meal can be completed with an order of fries, served plain or topped with Old Bay or garlic and parmesan, or message Baines on Instagram ahead of time to order the very jerk chicken that put him on the map. instagram.com/jerkwerks

Pioneer Pit Beef

Although the tent that houses Catonsville’s Pioneer Pit Beef might be small enough for the unseasoned pit beef diner to pass over, its bright-yellow color grabs attention. Pioneer is another cash-only spot, so come prepared — both with the aforementioned cash and to wait in close quarters, as it usually has a sizable line at any time of day.

While you wait for your sandwich, you’ll have an up-close view of the pitmasters at work. Through the smoke and fluorescent lights, you should see the beef rounds soaking in all of their charcoal goodness. Toppings here are free, but they’ll put them on for you — make sure to study up on what you want so that when they ask the all-important “what toppings?” question, you can rattle off your preferences and keep the line moving. I’d recommend a layer of sliced onions, a drizzle of smoky and slightly vinegary barbecue, and plenty of Pioneer’s creamy tiger sauce. Between tangy tomato flavors from the barbecue and a mildly sweet spread of the tiger, you’ll be in for a well-balanced bite.

If you’re feeling ambitious, you can upgrade a regular pit beef sandwich to a “super” with double the meat or to a sub piled higher than you’d think is possible. If you go that route, an order of Pioneer’s au jus — or a basket of French fries and gravy — will make your pit beef experience feel closer to that of a French dip. There might not be much outdoor seating, but Pioneer is worth having red-tinged juice run down your arm while you eat and drive. North Rolling Road and Johnnycake roads, Catonsville, 443-882-1005, pioneer-pit-beef.res-menu.com

Have a news tip? Contact Jane Godiner at jgodiner@baltsun.com or on Instagram as @JaneCraves.