Yesterday was Sunday Funday at Orangetheory Fitness. That translates to represent your favorite football team. So there I was in the middle of Giants/Patriots country standing tall only Chicago Bears orange tank top. Yes. I know they are not the top team in the league, but probably what my working out pals do not realize is that during that two mile power walk uphill I was able to reflect on the Bears I grew up with. These were the Bears in their heyday. The days when Jim McMahon was quarterback, Ditka was king and everyone knew the Fridge was more than just an appliance. We all knew the Super Bowl Shuffle with our Wayfarers on.
Growing up in the 80's in Chicago held lots of greatness. There were the Cubs, who were not very good at that time but the fans had heart and soul. It turns out in the last two years that fan loyalty would be greatly rewarded as they at long last head into the post season. Probably my most nostalgic memory is the food. Ah. Food in Chicago.
First there was the pizza. living in New York now I can say there is a huge difference between Chcago pizza and what my friends in New York consider pizza. Chicago pizza has a crispy sturdy crust rather than a flimsy crust that requires some sort of folding over technique making it a pizza sandwich of sorts. In Chicago we have deep dish pizza, where arguably the best comes from Gino's in the city. I doubt there is a kid from the suburbs that did not find themselves putting their name on the wall over a booth somewhere in that place. In Glen Ellyn we had Barones. Anyone from there knows this is the hometown favorite. It was such a favorite I would often hear my own mother wish we could have that for Thanksgiving. Sausage and mushroom on little squares of crispy goodness....Later on, trips home from college always meant at least one meal from there. One fateful night one of my brothers and I were home for a weekend. We had both been out with our respective groups of friends and had gotten home hungry. He suggested we hit up Barones for a late night snack. I, of course, was a broke college student but he assured me he would buy. When the bill came he instructed the waitress to give it to me and promptly got in the car and drove away, waving at me through the front window of the restaurant. After I panicked for a few minutes and then he came back laughing that he had gotten me good. That night I was eternally grateful I did not have to wash dishes.
Second, there was Italian Beef. Portillos. Red and white bags of greasy wonderment. Italian beef has nothing to do with pasta or red sauce. It has to do with a slow braised beef braised with Italian spices served on a soft white roll soggy with the juice topped with peppers. Complete nirvana on a bun. Portillos is also famous for their Chicago style hot dogs, yes. They essentailly have a salad on them. Yes they are on a steamed poppy seed bun. To my New York friends this seems strange but to us Chicagoans it is just normal. Plus Portillos was the only place I know that had crinkle cut fries as I mentioned before....fries. One of my many food vises.
Yes. Chicago food. Yes I am aware that this combination of saturated fats and high starch offerings likely contributed to my lifelong problem with obesity but it does not stop my nostalgia for my Chcago roots. During that time side pony tails were side pony tails and neon and rubber black bracelets resembling Madonna were simply cool. My nostalgia for all things Chicago was probably only fueled by the trainer playing "Rock the Casbah" just as I entered my 10% incline at 4.4 miles per hour reminding me once again that the 80's may be over, the Bears are likely not a Suoer Bowl favorite, and I no longer live in Chicago, but as time has proven....you can take the girl out of Chcago but not the Chicago out of the girl.
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