Shhhhh! Keep it down!

That's the type of thing Munch is apt to say when visiting the public library. Or when nursing a clanging hangover. Or, you know, when visiting the public library while nursing a clanging hangover.

You'd be surprised how often that happens.

But this time, I'm saying it because Munch has just gotten back from Whispers Pub, the small barroom and patio space attached to The Hartwood Restaurant, itself adorably situated inside a bookstore. It's like having dinner in a library, and it's a bit disorienting at first. Am I supposed to be eating or writing a term paper here?

Shhh!

Whispers Pub, 3400 Harts Run Road, Hampton/Indiana Township, opens at 5 p.m. Tuesday-Sunday. Call 412-767-3500.
Have a tip for Munch? E-mail at munch@post-gazette.com or search on Facebook, under "Munch von Munchausen."

Here's the quick and (literally) dirty history of the place -- the cinder block building that houses The Hartwood Restaurant was once the dusty operational headquarters of the Harmar Coal Mine. In 1988, Donald and Molly Montgomery bought the old building and turned it into retail space, and part of that space was a bookstore and cafe. By 2000, the bookstore space had been expanded and redesigned to accommodate more dining tables; by day, it's still The Bookworks Cafe, but come dinner hour it's The Hartwood Restaurant, specializing in Hawaiian and Pacific Rim goodies. Or, at least, regular seafood goodies with Pacific-Rim-sounding names -- "Polynesian" crab-stuffed salmon, "Hana bay" tiger shrimp, "Indonesian" tofu, "Hawaiian" mussels, etc.

The prices? Ahi tuna is $28, scallops are $29, a nice filet with lump crab will cost you $37.

Uh-oh. We seem to be rocketing well out of Munch's price range. The boys in accounting are gonna have a conniption.

That's where Whispers Pub comes into the picture. A few years ago, the owners attached a bar area to the old bookstore building. Cute little space -- L-shaped bar, a couple of booths, a couple of pub tables. More important than the decor, they serve cheaper grub than the main room.

And more important than the cheap grub, they serve beer.

Beer in a book store? Finally, some 6,000 years after the dawn of writing, a reason to read. Hallelujah and pass the beer nuts.

Munch and Dear One Of Munch (DOOM) bellied up to a pub table in the middle of the bar floor, right beneath the century-old stained-glass artwork for which the pub is named, a kaleidoscopic window portrait of two pretty ladies whispering party gossip to each other.

The menu changes periodically, but certain decorative bursts of whimsy remain constant, and I assume that's because the regular diners like them. If you order a salad, for example, the ingredients may change seasonally, but you're still likely to find jicama cut into butterfly shapes, or edible flower petals dusting the edges of the plate, just like you would have when the place first opened nine years ago.

Munch is always a sucker for a nice bowl of shepherd's pie ($10.50). (Trivia: shepherd's pie was named after Jean Shepherd, author of "A Christmas Story." Look it up!) Whispers' version used ground beef, not lamb, with a thick mashed-potato crust. Not too greasy, nicely seasoned, and your Elephantine Epicure, always conscious of the waistline, appreciated the sensible portion size.

DOOM ordered the summer strawberry salad and topped it with two lukewarm slices of tofu ($7.50 for the salad, $14.50 if you want tofu on it). DOOM loved the salad and its delicate citrus dressing but was unimpressed with the tofu slabs.

"They're kinda bland," DOOM said.

"It's tofu!" Munch said. Bland is tofu's raison d'etre.

Appetizers demonstrated the kitchen's personality. A cheese quesadilla ($8) appears on almost every appetizer menu these days; but dress it in red grapes and a faux guacamole made from peas, and suddenly it's a sweet new dish.

Munch enjoyed Munch-self. DOOM, whose food-related finickiness knows no bounds, pronounced the evening a success. This probably does not qualify as an actual miracle according to the Catholic Church, but in Munch's eyes, DOOM's approval is truly an act of the Divine.

But don't take Munch's word for it, or DOOM's. KDKA's Jon Burnett eats there. Jon Burnett wouldn't steer you wrong, would he? I mean, just look at this weather we've been having.