Chicago Part III: A Train Ride to the Gold Coast

No, not to Australia.  Something better.

It all started at 7:00am CST, when Spicy Food Guy's cell phone rang in his hotel room.

"Good Morning!" chirped Fabulous Administrative Assistant of Spicy Food Guy (FAASFG), "Your flight back to Pittsburgh is cancelled.  Almost all flights are cancelled.  I re-booked you on the one remaining American Eagle flight that departs O'Hare at 1:15!"

"Urgh", replied SFG, who not only had been fast asleep, but had a rather extended evening the night before involving an Irish pub and Portillo's hot dogs.

"Wake up, sleepyhead!" chirped FAASFG, "Call me if you can't get home!"

FAASFG is a peach.  Really.

So SFG lumbered over to the hotel window and pushed back the curtains.  It was snowing, in technical meteorological terms, to beat the band.  Time to get the hell out of Chicago.

SFG cleaned himself up and went down to the lobby to join forces with Fun and Favorite Colleagues of Spicy Food Guy (FFCSFG).

"The hotel staff is recommending we take the train to O'Hare because the roads are so bad," said one FFCSFG helpfully, "and the train station is only a block and a half away!"

So off SFG and FFCSFG  tromped in the heavy snowfall to find the entrance to the train station.  SFG found an entrance, but only for train pass holders.  A very helpful sign instructed that the "main entrance is one and a half blocks east".

Beg pardon?

There, standing in the heavy snowfall, SFG and FFCSFG discovered to our chagrin that not one of us had brought a compass to our business trip there in downtown Chicago.  Imagine.

So while SFG and FFCSFG stood there blinking in the snow, looking up at the skyscrapers to see if any of them had a big sign saying "East: that way" with a big arrow pointing the way east, fate intervened in the person of Loud Homeless Guy with Toilet Paper in His Pocket (LHGTPIHP).  "YOU GUYS LOOKING FOR THE ENTRANCE TO THE TRAIN STATION?" semi-shrieked LHGTPIHP.  "FOLLOW ME I KNOW THE WAY!"

And he did.  So for the low low price of a couple of bucks, SFG and FFCSFG got a personal escort to the train station.

So after saying good-bye to LHGTPIPH, taking a men's room smelling elevator down three levels, and making only a couple of wrong turns, SFG and FFCSFG finally plopped themselves in some seats on a train headed to O'Hare.  Adventure over.

Riggggghhhhht.

Twelve short minutes into the ride, deep underground, the train stops.  Complete stop.  No power.  A sound like a car engine failing to turn over rings through the train about three times.

"I've lived in Chicago for 10 years," offered one passenger, "and this has never happened." 

Of course not.

Several minutes go by.  Then over the loudspeakers:

"Attention passengers, we have an advanced problem with the train."

What?????

SFG thought the word advanced a quite interesting choice of adjectives.  "Actually", announced SFG to his fellow passengers, "I think there is a quite basic problem with the train."

This got no laughs.

So everyone sat in silence for a few minutes.  Then a new development: in the car ahead of us, and then in our car, someone starts pounding on the train doors.  From the outside.

"What do you think that is?" asked one passenger a little fearfully, breaking the silence in the train.

"This is the part," chimed in a cheerful SFG, "when the vampires attack!"

This actually got a lot of laughs.

Finally, about five minutes later, the train starts up again.  Then this announcement:

"Ladies and gentlemen, do not stand near the doors.  The train is going 50 miles per hour.  If you stand near the doors, you will fall out and die."

What????

This was about the time SFG started really, really hoping that his flight home would not be cancelled.

Finally, SFG and FFCSFG arrived at O'Hare.  After finding the terminal, doing the security dance, and finding out the flight home was only delayed a couple of hours, it was time to eat.

Gold Coast Hot Dogs, baby.  That's what the occasion called for.  Another world famous chili cheese dog, the second one in as many days.  And it was delicious -- steamy poppyseed bun, snappy hot dog casing, great chili and high calorie mega-transfat melted cheese. 

SFG loved it, and now there are two hot dog places in Chicago that SFG loves.  SFG looks forward to consuming a few more.

Maybe this summer.
 

Chicago Part II -- Escape to Portillos

Portillo's was not the planned dinner destination.  And while it didn't take a prison escape to get there, some stealth was indeed involved.

But Spicy Food Guy gets ahead of himself.

SFG and 12 fun and favorite colleagues of Spicy Food Guy (FFCSFG) were in Chicago to debate if Anakin Skywalker should enter jedi training and ultimately bring balance to the universe.

Not really.

Hosting SFG and FFCSFG were trendy Chicago based colleagues of Spicy Food Guy (TCBCSFG) and they announced the morning of the meeting that dinner that evening would be "A wine bar and pizza/pasta place".

Multiple alarm buzzers went off in SFG's head. 

By law, any pizza consumed in Chicago must be deep dish.  It has to have meat.  It has to weigh 35 pounds.  One time several years ago, SFG was in Chicago for an informal meeting that was in walking distance from SFG's hotel.  SFG stopped at Giordano's world famous deep dish pizza place and picked up a big old pizza for his lunch (SFG intended to share).  When SFG got to the building where the meeting was, the lobby guard assumed SFG was a pizza delivery guy.  True story.

But Spicy Food Guy sooooo digresses.

SFG quickly ascertained that any pizza associated with a wine bar was unlikely to be deep dish.  In fact, this wine bar pizza place sounded like it was going to be one of those downtown trendy froo froo restaurant places.

Bingo.

Now, in all fairness, TCBCSFG were tickled with their decision, and TCBCSFG are smart, nice, passionate people and SFG really likes them.  SFG was determined to make the best of it.  But when SFG walked in, he immediately noted the following:

1) The servers were dressed all in black.
2) The tables were packed tightly together.
3) The wineglasses were oversized.

Indeed this was a trendy froo froo downtown place.  SFG enjoyed the wine, the company, the roasted artichokes, and the pizza (not all of it; the young woman seated next to SFG had a pizza with a topping that can only be described as a baby greens salad).  So it was fine as trendy downtown spots go, but SFG yearned for more.

That's about when the plotting began.

As it turned out, the FFCSFG seated next to SFG had grown up in Chicago, and swore he could not leave town until he had eaten an Italian Beef Sandwich from Portillo's, a famous hot dog and sandwich place that is a big favorite of Chicago natives.

And there was a Portillo's location not just two blocks away.

"We're going there after this dinner", SFG whispered to FFCSFG, "alert the others".

So very quietly the word spread, and a total of four FFCSFGs agreed to the plan.  They all happened to be male.

So as dessert was wrapping up, SFG and the four FFCSFGs stood up to quietly slip out.  A particularly astute TCBCSFG saw the exchange of glances and very wrongly assumed SFG and pals were headed to a strip club.  A strip club?  When there are chili cheese dogs to be had?  Surely TCBCSFG jested, but still, some clarification was required and SFG had to come clean on the evening's plot.  So good-bye's were said, and SFG and the four FFCSFGs stepped outside.

Cold.

Really, really cold.  Brutal cold.  Chicago lake wind cold.  We made it a block before SFG announced "We can't stay out here, we must take refuge in this Irish pub we are standing next to."

So refuge was taken.  For 40 minutes or so.  And when SFG and FFCSFGs had each had a couple of pints of refuge, it was time to soldier on the last half block or so to Portillo's.

And what can SFG say about Portillo's?  Only that it's hot Italian sausage is fabulous beyond measure, that SFG wolfed down the chili cheese dog inside about three minutes, that the Maxwell Street style polish sausage has terrific flavor.  Is SFG saying he had one of each?  SFG takes the fifth, and seconds and thirds.  At least while he is dining at Portillos.

The Chicago native FFCSFG had his Italian beef sandwich fix, and he insisted we all taste the tamales.  While the tamales weren't bad, the hot itailian sausage was voted best in class by SFG and a couple of non-native FFCSFGs.

So that's the tale of two restaurants.  And Portillo's is now a must stop eatery when SFG hits Chicago.  Go there.

Best Chili Dog North of the Mason Dixon Line

As Forrest Gump once said, "I could eat about a million of these".

First in the spirit of disclosure, Spicy Food Guy must admit he is more than impartial to the Skyline Chili Cheese Coney. Besides having consumed thousands of Skyline Cheese Coneys in his lifetime, the geographical center of the Skyline restaurant chain is Cincinnati, Ohio, home of Almost Deaf Father of Spicy Food Guy (ADFOSFG) and Loving Mother of Spicy Food Guy (LMOSFG). Routinely, Spicy Food Guy will drive home to visit ADFOSG and LMOSFG, who have just prepared a scrumptious from scratch meal for Spicy Food Guy and his hungry spouse and kids, only to have one of the kids, usually Wild Child Stepdaughter of Spicy Food Guy (WCSOSFG), announce, "he (SFG) ate five cheese coneys after we got off the interstate! In 10 minutes!"

Alas, it is true.

And if you have not partaken of what may be the finest chili cheese dog to have graced the planet, here are the the details.

It is a small hot dog, perhaps four inches long. Add mustard and onion. Pour on a bean-free chili that has finely ground meat, next to zero heat, and a touch of cinnamon, and does Spicy Food Guy dare say it, a misty hint of chocolate? Add a thick layer of finely shredded sharp cheddar cheese, put it all in a steamed bun, and there it is, the best of the best, the Skyline Chili Cheese Coney.

Another tale needs to be told as it relates to the Skyine Chili Cheese Coney. There is an option, for young picky eaters, to order plain hot dogs on a bun. Skyline calls them wiener buns. That's how they are ordered, "wiener buns". Go back seven years. Spicy food guy is visiting ADFOSG and LMOSFG, with then nine year old Intellectual Eldest Daughter of Spicy Food Guy (IEDOSFG) and then four year old Loud Only Son of Spicy Food Guy (LOSOSFG) riding in the back of Spicy Food Guy's SUV. Spicy Food Guy pulls into the drive through of the local Skyline, and the Speaker says "May I take your order sir?"

Spicy Food Guy then replies, ""I will take four wieners..." and the rest of the order is drowned in cacophony of shrieks as piercing laughter peals from LOSOSFG, who screams "DAD SAID WIENER!!!" five consecutive times as Spicy Food Guy is doubled over, no longer able to speak, and IEDOSFG is belly laughing and snorting at the same time.

Nothing beats a first class chili dog, except maybe a carful of laughing kids who just embarrassed their Dad with an incident that will be retold at both of their wedding rehearsal dinners sometime in the next twenty years.

We still laugh about it.