Showing posts with label Italian beef. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Italian beef. Show all posts

Thursday, November 29, 2012

Delivery from Sgt. Peffer's

1501 North Saddle Creek Road
And another location in Millard
Or, in this case, my bedroom in front of my TV
402.558.7717
Open daily 11am - 10pm
sgtpeffers.com

Hot Strombo and a side of potatoe salad ($6.50):
"Baked bun stuffed with sliced ham, pepperoni,
mancini peppers, mozzarella and romano"

Today at lunchtime I was faced with the strenuous task of finding something to eat without leaving my house. I foraged through the cabinets, but once the columns of Saltine crackers diminished, and the memories of setting the smoke detector off last night trying to make a pizza came back, I decided on delivery. My experience would have been smoother if I had the possibility of ordering online. In the "Delivery Instructions" field, I would have typed key by key with my index finger from my bed to please bring the food upstairs to my bedroom, along with some plates and napkins, and retrieve the money from my wallet which should be somewhere in the vicinity, but I'm not exactly sure where.

They don't offer online ordering, but to my delight, Sgt. Peffer's delivers. I spent most of the 45-minute wait wondering what's behind the name. What's a Peffer, and why the Beatles mid-career motif?

I intuitively disregarded Sir Paul's veggie crusade and went with a couple of meaty sandwiches. With a name like Hot Strombo, I was expecting something more, ya know, stromboli-like, perhaps a bit more fromagian. Instead, it was relatively light on the cheese, but stuffed with enough cured meats to fill a party tray. On the other hand, the roast beef au jus was just phenomenal.

The potato salad served on the side was one of my favorites in recent memory; it had a semi-pureed consistency, interrupted with bits of crunchy scallion.

As with most takeout, both sandwiches resembled a surgery, or as my dining buddy mused, "John Lennon's brain spatter." But both were much better tasting than the "jelly on stale bread" I would have come up with myself. Thanks, Sarge.


Roast Beef au Jus ($6.50), with peppers, onions and provolone cheese

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

Fat in Chicago

Van Gogh, The Drinkers, Art Institute of Chicago

Just like my 27 hours in Chicago, we'll make this quick:
The bus plopped me down in the middle of downtown on a Friday night. I thought about joining the cluster of ragtag "Occupy" protesters, but the numerous restaurants, still brimming with patrons after 9pm, seemed more inviting. Once again, my hunger eclipsed my punk sensibilities.

Knowing full well I was stumbling into the tourist-iest of touristy tourist joints (totally not punk!), I headed into Giordano's, hoping to God I could get one of their "world famous" stuffed deep dish pizzas in a size I could handle, or maybe just bum a slice from someone. Sadly, the very smallest would have run me $20 after tax and tip. Happily, this led me to order the Italian Beef sandwich instead. Just think: A toasty roll filled with tender beef sliced a millimeter thick, dipped in beef gravy, which was more like a salty, herby jus. The bartender asked if I was in town to run the Chicago Marathon. I chuckled, shook my head, and took another giant bite.

Eye-talian Beef sandwich at Giordano's

For lunch, I couldn't help but try an Indian fast casual restaurant with a Qdoba-like assembly line. Look, I watched a whole season of "America's Next Great Restaurant" hoping the Indian guy would win so I could someday experience this very thing. Chutney Joe's Indian Diner is a budding chain with two locations so far, and more coming soon. I tried the Red Bean Rajma, with a yogurt, tomato, roasted cumin and ginger sauce. The beans were suspiciously canned and smushy, but the sauce, garlicky naan and basmati rice were right on. At under $6, it was the one affordable thing I found in the whole city.

Red Bean Rajma at Chutney Joe's


Chicago's famed deep dish pizza is apparently only good if you have friends to share with, as I couldn't find a single place that sold by the slice. With two hours to go, I got desperate and tried a regular crust at State Street Pizza Co. This pizza was heavy, yo. I think it weighed double your average. The crust was dense and had a hint of honey. I sat at one of the window barstools, watched some freaks and families stroll by, and felt rather at home in a big city. This place could be a prime spot to stop and re-fuel mid-evening.

Slice of Pep from State Street Pizza Co. 
The Big Three

There were also the Gin-Gin Mules at the Whistler and the beers at some Wicker Park bar. At the Art Institute, my Art History minor made me feel majorly smart. It was a good day.