Ode to Beef (Sandwiches)

Ah, Chi-town... Sweet home, Chicago, Indeed! Lynette and I recently spent time in Chicago and rural Illinois, our home state. We made the journey for our dear friend, Alex, who married a beautiful woman named Lisa. Alex grew up in central Illinois: Hog Capitol of the world, where the land is flat and the corn fields stretch as far as the eye can see. As Lynette proclaimed in the car, "You can get out of the corn fields, but you can't get the corn fields out of you."

We were lucky to have at least one night in the city of Chicago. We stayed with our gracious friends, Natalie and Dean. We walked the streets of their wonderful neighborhood. Ate pancakes at a hip joint around the corner that served the best coffee I ever put to my lips. We had pizza. Honest to goodness, true blue, 100% Chicago pizza. And here's the beginning of this post's observation: The food in Chicago is by far superior to anything we can eat on the east coast. This pizza, merely a carry-out pie from some place called Pete's... nothing special, no frills, very simple... this pizza, merely an afterthought to our native Chicago friends was The Best pizza I had eaten in many, many years. This basic, humble pizza from some place called Pete's was better than ANYTHING we can get in DC. I won't dwell on it too much, but I'd love to know why no one where I live can figure it out.

The wedding was idyllic, taking place outdoors in the vast prairies of Illinois: Lush green fields of high corn; ancient, towering oak trees; Tiny bugs dancing on the warm sunlight; the subtle clang of a flag pole rising somewhere behind us. And fiddles. Angelic, perfect fiddles charming us like a spell, the undeniable sound of eternal country life. It was nothing short of heavenly.

Upon departure from our homeland, we had time to kill at the airport in Chicago. So we got some Italian Beef sandwiches at the C terminal at O'Hare Airport. These beef sandwiches were the perfect close to our grand visit. Italian beef sandwiches bought at an airport! Come on, DC!! Even food bought at an airport in Chicago is still better than anything in DC! Unless you've actually had an Italian beef sandwich, there's really no good way for me to describe it. No, it's not roast beef on bread. The key is the gravy. And the roll. Two distinct Chicago-tasting things.

There's something that confuses me though: I stated in a previous post that when the Cubs came to town, half the stadium was full of Cub fans. Well, if there are so many transplanted Chicagoans in DC, why isn't there more demand for Chicago food? Could it be the water? Is it a scientific impossibility to actually bake the same-tasting roll, or conjure up the right kind of gravy? Maybe we're too close to the ocean. Or maybe the midwest folks take more pride in their cuisine.

If you're not living in the midwest and you happen to be reading this blog, you can taste for yourself by ordering from Lou Malnati's. They deliver all over the country.