Very often I find myself seeking out American cuisine that transcends region and social structure, foods that are woven into the fabric of our country and rise to the level of equalizer, enjoyed by all, but in our own individual ways. Regionally, there are few items that represent this idea better than the hot dog.
Be it the perfect union of dog and fruit juice at Gray's Papaya in New York City, the crunch of a deep fried Ripper at Rutt's Hut in New Jersey, the ritual of visiting The Varsity in Atlanta or dogs that are dragged through Chicago's best gardens, I am always seeking out places that are new to me, but are long time standards for locals, foodies and road warriors in the know.
It is with this in mind that I headed to Chicago recently to attend a conference on Information Technology Governance, which happened to be located close to two standout hot dog joints that I missed on my last trip in June. My goal was to attend the conference and then enjoy a dinner of dogs before heading back to St. Louis. I planned to stop first at Hot Doug's and then move on to Superdawg where in car dining still reigns supreme.
Alas, my plans were interrupted as I was hustling though a dark construction zone about 40 miles outside of Chicago. I was heading back to my hotel with dinner - a coveted Lou Malnati's pizza resting between an Investors Business Daily and Wall Street Journal, covered by a sweat shirt and kept warm by the seat warmers in the passenger seat. With the smell of deep dish wafting though the car and my thoughts turning towards sitting back in my room with a beer and pizza I did not notice a large object in the road. Upon impact it shredded my front tire, banged around the underside of the car for an eternity, sent me into what shoulder there was to be had and the mud left from 9 inches of rain left by Hurricane Ike a few days before.
The process of extracting my car from that mess took over an hour and included a second tow truck when the first slid into the mud and also got stuck. Back in my hotel room and with my conference plans in doubt I dug into that Lou Malnati's pie in a joyless state that did not give it justice (hence no review), but with a hearty appreciation for whomever invented the heated seat, which kept my pie hot though the whole ordeal.
I spent the next day sitting around a repair shop having my car checked out and waiting for them to locate the tires I needed to match my existing ones. As morning turned to afternoon, I slowly gave up on making it to my conference and instead grabbed my GPS to see if I could find lunch, specifically a hot dog, within walking distance of where I was stuck.
I ended up at a chain called Portillo's that in many respects reminds me of a Fuddrucker's where the burgers have been swapped for Chicago style dogs. The size of a small warehouse with a two lane drive though wrapping around the back, the place was busy for 1:30PM in the afternoon, which for most is long past lunchtime.
There are 40+ Portillo's now, however the first opened as a stand called "The Dog House" in 1963. While they have expanded to a minor restaurant empire you can't tell by the hot dogs which were excellent. I started with "the works" that met my recommended daily intake of vegetables and nitrates. Loaded down with sauerkraut, mustard, onion, sweet pickle relish, a dill pickle spear, tomato, peppers, and celery salt, this dog is a challenge to fit into your mouth. All this rides inside a steamed poppy seed bun which holds up to the task of transport from wrapper to waiting stomach. It is worth the effort and very filling, living up to the nickname this style of hot dog has, "The Depression Sandwich", earned in 1929.
The misfortune of the past 24 hours began to vanish, but was not complete until I moved along to a chili dog with onions.
I rarely partake of the chili dog for reasons that range from intestinal fortitude to domestic tranquility, but I am a long time fan. I've even been known to root friends on when they opt for this special dog. Without the salad that perches atop a Chicago dog, the quality of the Portillo's hot dog has a chance to shine, especially the natural casing which has a pleasant snap when bitten. The chili reminded me of the style you can find at Skyline in Cincinnati and it played well with the added onion. Again, the poppy seeded bun was sturdy enough to carry the dog and fixings without becoming overly soggy or breaking.
Back in St. Louis, I am happy that the damage to my car was not worse. The materials and slides from the conference will find their way to me via Fed-ex over the next week or so. Finding Portillio's was a stroke of luck, but I am not done with the city by the lake. I will be back sooner rather than later, Superdawg, and I'll be hungry.
Opinion: Recommended
Multiple Locations in Illinois, Indiana and California
