What Does a New York News Site Know About Chicago Pizza?

You love Chicago pizza. We love Chicago pizza. In my high school days, it was Pizzaria Uno or Due downtown–before their reputations were sullied by franchisization. Then came a My Pi phase–enjoying pizza at the original shop down the block from the Loyola El stop.

On my first date with Barb, sandwiched between watching a polo match at the Chicago Armory and a visit to a Chicago magic bar, we munched on the piping hot cheese pizza at Gino’s East. We enjoyed Gino’s again on the night we got engaged, and completed the Gino’s hat trick on our wedding day, walking from the Drake Hotel for a late-night snack after our afternoon nuptials.

And these days, any excuse is a good excuse to enjoy a Lou Malnati’s pie. Barb is partial to the Lou Special (hold the cheddar cheese, please) while I like to indulge in some pepperoni on my slices. Best when eaten in one of Lou’s sit-down restaurants, the delivered pizzas are nearly as perfect. Even the frozen version can brighten up a weeknight dinner at home.

What do all these pizzas have in common? They are all Chicago legends and they are all deep-dish pizza. Deep dish is what Chicago is known for, as iconic as Vienna Beef Hot Dogs, Garrett’s Caramel and Cheese Popcorn, and Alinea’s five-star meals.

Yes, Giordano’s stuffed-style pizza has its devotees, but that is an anomaly. Single-layer deep-dish is where it is at.

So I was amazed to read an online article in Bloomberg, informing me that the Chicago pizza style that is “taking over the US” isn’t “pudgy deep-dish” but instead cracker thin, crisp-crusted, tavern-style pizza. It’s the rage in Brooklyn, wowing the Northwest in Portland and Seattle, and truffled up for wine-pairing in Napa Valley.

Is it true? Is Chicago’s bulky, broad-shouldered pizza about to be replaced by a crispy cracker slathered in tomato paste? I hate the idea. But I suppose if I can root for The Bear’s Carmy Berzatto to be successful in turning his Italian Beef shack into a Michelin-starred restaurant, I have to be open to food evolution in other Chicago classics as well. Maybe I will try the crispy ‘za at a restaurant in Westmont recommended in the Bloomberg piece.

Just don’t start putting ketchup on my Superdawg!

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5 Reasons this Curmudgeon Won’t Be at Taste of Chicago

I assume by now the booths are up. I assume the lines are long. I assume the music is playing. And I know I won’t be there. This marks the 19th, or perhaps it is the 20th, consecutive year that “Taste of Chicago” will be celebrated down by the Lake without me.

I have nothing against Chicago traditions and Chicago monuments. I have been to sports events at Wrigley and the Cell, Soldier Field and the United Center. I have seen concerts at all of them too.

I love Chicago restaurants and have told you about my historical favorites. And I don’t always have a problem with big crowds downtown–I still fondly recall a wonderful New Years Eve fireworks celebration in 1981 presided over by the late Mayor Jane Byrne, she of the fortuitous snowfall.

Lady Jane must have had an in with someone, because that night was clear and temperate, perfect for the show. So I don’t hate all Big Chicago events. But the Taste, alas, just awakens a latent anorexic genetic trait in me. I just don’t want to be there in my flip flops, Bermuda shorts and Steely Dan t-shirt. And I don’t want to eat there.

Five Reasons I Won’t Be There:

If I have to stand in a line longer than the TSA’s security checkpoint at Midway on a bad Monday, I don’t want it to be for something that is battered, fried, or falling off a stick.
It is looong drive. And a quick check of SpotHero shows the cheapest parking spot going for the mid-$30’s. Use public transportation, you say? Google predicts that will take me a mere 2 hours and 15 minutes. Well, that may be less time than the wait for a taco.
Heat and humidity. Repeat. Heat and humidity.
Of all the bands playing, the only one I have heard of is The Decemberists. I would do better at Lollapalooza (as if THAT is going to happen for me!)
Too many Cub fans. It’s too easy to catch the El from the Wrigleyville bars and find yourself downtown. Cub fans are only tolerable to this Sox fan when the Cubs aren’t tolerable.

Or perhaps, I am just getting old and cranky. That may be the case, but I will just enjoy my Lou Malnati’s Pizza in the comfort of one of their many restaurants. that is what they are there for!

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Music Trivia Question:

Can you think of pieces of music, or musical artists, that include a year in their title? I’ll give you a starter–Prince’s classic “1999”. List more in the Comments, or send them to me at les.raff@post.com. A shout out to whomever comes up with the most.

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photo credit: Lou Malnati’s – Who Has the Best Pizza in Chicago? via photopin (license)

What I Learned on the “It Hurts Too Much To Eat” Diet

A man selling ice cream

Singing Italian songs

Chicago-1972

I have discovered the magic bullet. A GI issue has prevented me from eating solid food for the last ten days. They have turned my non-stop love affair with food into a miserable love-pain S&M relationship, my own 50 Shades of Gravy. I don’t recommend anyone follow this diet, but for those of you with an insane desire to lose weight in a hurry, here are a few thoughts.

My last post featured an album cover and lyrics from the Carpenters. Talk about unintentional irony!
Fruit smoothies sound like a good idea. Ice cold, frosty, chill inducing Strawberry-Banana smoothies from Pandora that hit your gut like a Tazer shot at 6 a.m. are NOT a good idea.
Licking the cream cheese off a bagel is OK; nibbling at the edges of the bagel is OK only if done slooooowly.
I make Cream of Wheat the same way mother used to do it. Stand at the stovetop and stir, stir, stir. No microwave mush for this boy. And never a lump.
Boost Vanilla Protein Drink is the foulest potion this side of Hogwarts. It belongs in a cauldron with three witches stirring it.
Adding a squashed up banana to Boost Vanilla Protein Drink just makes the agony last longer.
Chicken noodle soup is fine. Blenderizing the chicken and the noodles spoils the appeal. Now I know what Oliver Twist felt like at the workhouse. “Please may I have some more gruel, sir?”
Ice cream, slightly chilled, in small spoonfuls, is fine. Salty Caramel and Coffee flavors are best. Bring ’em on!
A wife who drives you to the doctor-good. A wife who goes to 3 different grocery stores to get things you like-better. A wife who makes vanilla pudding without that awful skin on top-priceless! Gotta love her–always.
The bathroom scale can be your friend again. Daily!

Things are slowly improving. By the Night Before Christmas I hope to be able to take a bite out of more than just those visions of sugar plums and Lou Malnati’s Pizza that are dancing in my head. Until then, keep those room temperature smoothies coming!

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