Chicago Style Pizza

 So Justin has graciously allowed me to write this here third post. Now, this would be quite an honor if it weren’t for three reasons: 1. The entire idea of starting a blog was mine. 2. I had been begging Justin to get interested in writing this blog with me for at least two months before he suddenly realized how much fun it would be to do together, and 3. Our second day in Chicago is what we had dubbed the “culinary throw away day.” 

Now the thing you have to know about us is that we travel to see new places, we travel to go to museums and to meet new people, but in all honestly, we travel to eat. Meaning in the weeks prior to our departure, before we even decided what we would want to see  in Chicago, we had planned and reserved every single meal we were going to consume. 5 night, 6 days means 11 meals; and each one had to be perfect. What wound up happening was Wednesday turned to be our inexpensive meal day. We had initially planned Rick Bayless’ Xoco for lunch and Chicago deep dish pizza for dinner. 

Unfortunately, Wednesday was the 4th of July and so all three of Rick Bayless’ restaurants were closed. In the words of a good friend and ex Chicagoian (Chigaoite?) “Bayless would be kind enough to give his staff the day off. Fucker.” Our sentiments exactly. Completely blown off course, in typical Justin and Anisha style, we found the nearest pub (in this case Rockbottom Brewery) to mull our choices over a pint. It was here that we met a couple not unlike ourselves, who had traveled from Cleveland and had also planned every meal beforehand. They mentioned that they had just been to Grahamwich around the corner and were raving about their rood. Sandwiches made by Graham Elliott? Sold. (website : http://www.grahamwich.com ) So after another pint each and a lot of chit-chat we went on over, spirits high and bellies craving something other than liquid nourishment. 

Knowing we had a deep dish pizza not too far in our future, we decided to split one. Justin allowed me to pick the sandwich (and to his dismay) I chose the Grilled Shrimp wrap with mango salsa, guacamole puree, blistered corn in a chipotle tortilla. Now Justin would have gone for something like their Pastrami Reuben with homemade sourkraut, toasted caraway, gruyere fondue, 1000 island on a marbled rye or their roast beef with grainy mustard, baby arugula, shoestring potatoes + red onions on a pretzel roll. However, he left the choice up to me and after the massive amounts of heavy food we had already consumed thus far in the trip, the grilled shrimp was perfect. Anyways, I was a huge fan of this wrap, as the marinated shrimp, corn and mango together is just a perfect combination of sweet and spicy. However, the meal did leave Justin staring longingly at the marbled rye sitting behind the glass countertop. Oh well, he shouldn’t have given up the choice to me!

Fast forward through viewing Chicago on foot to laying on the warm cozy hotel room bed with the air conditioning on full blast. Did I mention we managed to go to Chicago during the heat wave and so it was 100+ degrees outside? The AC was simultaneously revitalizing and yet, with all the beer wearing off and still being pleasantly satisfied from lunch, rendered me in a state of drowsy, happy delirium.  Which is why when the clock struck six and it was time to move in order to make it to the Skydeck at 9 in time for the fireworks, all I could muster was whining like a teenager who was forced to wake up on Monday morning for school. Justin, sensing getting me up would be futile, decided to be the man and hunt for our food and bring it back to his woman. 

Enter Chicago Style Pizza – which, lets me honest here, is a meat and cheese pie. Opting for sausage, pepperoni, garlic and onions, this pie was delivered to me by the cutest pizza delivery man I know, and a bouquet of roses. Sometimes, Justin just does things right. Verdict for the pizza? He chose to go to the original Pizzeria Uno, which was conveniently located right down the street. The crust was this crumbly cornmeal biscuit type deal which, although perfect for containing the massive amounts of meat, cheese and sauce, was otherwise a disappointment. All in all, I will accept what I ate as a “meat pie” but in no way does it dare deserve the same name as the delicious slice of fresh dough topped with a thin layer of sauce, cheese and toppings that in perfect ratio create that symphony of greasy deliciousness that the NY pizza slice does. Nice try Chicago, but NY gets this one. 

Purple Pig

All right, dinner - if you haven't noticed by now, we won't bore you with the details of what we did around our meals. Mostly because we don't want you to know how lame we are. That said, I’m going to make an immediate exception – what’s that you say? You can’t disregard the rules right after you set them? You forgot the penultimate rule, the rule that trumps all others – the only rule is that I set the rules… muhaha…. muahahaha… muahahahahahaha. Cue Anisha glaring. Ok, so funny story – we came back from our lunch and checked into the hotel, collapsed into a food coma, and took a quick nap. After what seemed like an eternity of sleeping I wake up to Anisha in an absolute panic – “No… NO… IT’S 6AM. We… we… WE MISSED A DINNER.” That’s right, the concern wasn’t that we randomly slept for 14 hours, the concern was that we missed a meal. And yes, I shared her panic. Thank god she can’t/couldn't tell the only problem was/is that she can’t tell the difference between am and pm.

So once we allowed our digestive tracts to process the grease and beer bomb we shoved down our gullets earlier via naptime and got over our panic, we moved onto our next destination - The Purple Pig. We showed up around 715ish and got our name on the waiting list - 45 minute wait, not too bad at all. We could have passed the time by hanging around with a glass of wine or a beer outside, but us being us, we decided to find another bar nearby that we might not otherwise have gotten to try. Let me say, great decision. *Pats own back*.

What we stumbled upon was only our favorite bar of the trip, and maybe our favorite bar of all time. Enter Sable. Picture an upscale hotel bar where some people are dressed to the tee, while others are walking in with t-shirts and shorts, and the bartenders have handlebar mustaches and/or old-timey vests - that pretty much sums up the ambiance at Sable. I forget what Anisha ordered exactly, but it was a funk bomb - in a good way. I told the waitress that I liked bourbon and a kick of sweetness - she came back with a "Brown Betty", some sort of deliciously grapefruit-y whiskey concoction that reminded me of a sweet Manhattan in a way. Yum. So our love affair with Sable began... we'll come back to that in a later post.

Mid-way through drinks Purple Pig called to let us know our table was ready, but when we let them know we were still in the middle of our tipples they warned that they wouldn't be able to hold onto the table for more than 10 minutes. Cue sad face. No matter, when we arrived they sat us within a matter of 30 seconds - stay classy, you delicious porky cousin of Barney. At first we were a little hesitant because we were sitting at one of those communal tables that is just a little too packed, but once we got used to it it was totally fine - we even had the added bonus of table side entertainment in the form of the jackass next to us showing of his "knowledge" of food. More on him in a bit - let's call him J.A. for short from here on out.

Let's score this by round.

Round 1: 

Pork Neck Rilette with fleur de sel and some sort of delicious mustarda, which I translate as relish with mustard seeds. So this thing comes out and there is like a pound of food - no joke, between the slices of glorious toast slathered in olive oil, rustically (damn right I'm gonna use fancy food writing terms) served pork, and mustarda. Someone could make a meal outta this dish - for like $12. That's like a visit to Cosi. Fuck Cosi.  So the bread comes piping hot, and you slather your meat right on there - examples below - and the thin layer of fat on top of the meat disappears into the bread in a gluttonous instant, leaving behind only the succulent flavor. Top that off with the mustarda, and there you have it - our first pig in Chicago. 8.5/10. Not a must try, but pretty damn good.

I almost forgot our wine!! That would've been a crime against flavor. So Anisha went with a solid, delicious, floral, sweet Riesling - solid. Me, I asked the waiter for a rec - "Do you have any really big, bold whites?" why, yes, sir, we do - of course they did. What I received was like if you took a bottle of California unoaked Chardonnay and then reduced it by half - and I mean that in the kindest possible way. That glass of wine was the kind of wine where I might actually be like, you know what? Fuck it - I'm buying a CASE. Until I looked at my checking balance... Then I'd meekly order another glass.

J.A. MOMENT: Meanwhile J.A. is proudly exclaiming how the Purple Pig has just become way too touristy. Fuck you J.A. – I’m sitting right next to you.

Round 2: 

FRIED Deviled Egg with Arugula & Caper Berries (that we mistook as the best marinated stuffed olives ever as we ate them). Deviled eggs are those things your pasty aunt brought to the family BBQ every summer, right? WRONG... Ok sort of right. But on this night, they were an explosion of deliciousness. So imagine a fried orb is delivered to your table, nestled on top of a bed of lightly dressed arugula with a sprinkle of marinated oli... err... caper berries. Yeah, we didn’t figure that out until after we saw a menu again, :/. You look down in awe of this fried delight, unsure of the treasures it holds within - undaunted, you draw your knife bravely to the golden brown mystery and hesitantly plunge it in. Instantly, a river of gold pours out - yesssssss... You've struck yolk!!! Excellent, excellent excellent, and a nice break from the pork-centric menu. 9/10. Recommended.

J.A. MOMENT: J.A. pours out a good ounce of his wine. I’m sure there are very good reasons as to why someone would do that, I just really don’t want to hear them. I bet he lights his cigars with 20’s too.

Round 3:

 Pig's Tails Braised in Balsamic. Ok, so let me start out by saying that I had pig tails for the first time a few weeks back fried like they were chicken wings. Re-donk-ulous. These? Good... But not re-donk-ulous. I loved the touch of sweetness from the balsamic and the way that the fat was perfectly rendered, but something just didn't do it for me. That said, Anisha really liked them and I think that if I had them at another restaurant not surrounded by awesomeness I would've had a little more appreciation. 7/10.

Wine: So, impressed by the waiter’s recommendation I asked him to guide me to the perfect grape yet again, and he did not disappoint. It was something fruity, but somewhat restrained - as you can tell I'm a master sommelier, ;) - and really great with this dish. Anisha, I believe, had a Pinot noir. Also solid. At this point in the meal we were totally more about the food than the drink, but it was impressive how our waiter could guide us accordingly to what we liked as well as the extend of their wine list and the reasonable prices. Good stuff.

J.A. MOMENT: I can’t remember what J.A. was doing at this moment in time, but I guarantee it was something smarmy. Let’s just pretend he was sending a dish back because the presentation was off – that sounds about right.

Round 4: 

Pork Jowl with grilled asparagus, oyster mushrooms, and fried duck egg. I have been dropped off in flavor town, sir, and I think I want to buy a house. My GOD this dish is amazing. I almost don't even want to describe it - it feels like I'm spoiling the experience - but I can't stop myself. Do you hamburgers? Yes? Well, here is how I would describe this dish – imagine if the first and only hamburger that you had ever had was a Big Mac. You’d definitely dig burgers, but they certainly wouldn’t be the revelatory experience that they can be. Now, imagine after 25 years of Big Mac burger exclusivity a friend brought you to, I don’t know, say 5 Guys. When you took that first bite of that burger your entire perspective would be blown to shreds, no? Well, that’s how I felt about this dish – yes, I know it was a stretch. LET ME HAVE MY ANALOGY.

Ok, so let’s get the supporting players out of the way. The grilled asparagus added a nice bit of color, was perfectly cooked, and it tasted like asparagus – what? It was just fine, and no one cares about the FRIGGING ASPARAGUS. I’m sorry asparagus – that was mean. You did your best, you were good, fine… moving on. The mushrooms were very mushroom-y – and I mean that in the best possible way – and the duck egg was a perfectly cooked yolk explosion. Whoo, ok, now time to get to the real reason you should make sure that you do everything within your power to get this dish in your belly – the bread and the swine. The bread was this perfectly charred, roasted, crunchy, fat slice that just clutched UP and sucked up all the jowl renderings that melted away, making sure that each and every drop of piggy-grease went into our mouths. Fuck and yes.

Now the jowl – my god I have never felt so good mauling a face (erm, that came out wrong). Whoever first figured out how to cook this cut of meat like this needs a fucking medal, stat. The fat was like no fat you’ve ever eaten before – sticky, sweet, smoky, with tufts of meat that practically shredded themselves before dancing on your tongue. Nom, Nom, Nom. One more for good measure – NOM. If I lived in Chicago, I think I would die before 30. 9.5/10. Gotta leave room for perfection, no?

J.A. MOMENT: J.A. initiated contact, joking about what would happen if he tried to take a bite OFF MY PLATE, and winkingly started moving his hand towards my plate. Come a little closer… my fork is HUNGRY. He didn’t.

Round 5: 

(after all those glasses of wine, Anisha forgot to take a picture of this one )

Milk Braised Pork Shoulder with Mashed Potatoes. So, to be clear, I am physically and mentally incapable of giving this dish the appropriate props since by the time it came to the table my stomach had officially started a revolt against my body. Anisha’s was one-step ahead and had legit succeeded from the union, so, yeah. That said, I did manage to shove it down my gullet regardless, cuz I’m a fucking glutton like that. Let me tell you – don’t do this pork shoulder like we did, it’s a sweet, sweet dish that deserves better. Savor it, caress it lovingly with… ahem, where was I? It’s good, and it’s got this sort of Southern-style white gravy on it with velvety, rich potatoes. Please feel free to do this thing justice in the comments – I just don’t have it in me. N/A/10

J.A. MOMENT: J.A. goes to make his move to pay for the check, because he’s an exceedingly generous soul – you know, that or he forced the table to drink 4 bottles of wine and eat half the menu. Either or. AND IN A CLASSIC J.A. MOVE – “Wow guys, looks like I left my wallet at home – but let’s go back to my place… I’ve got some sorbet and I’ll open up a bottle of wine on me.” Yes, that really happened. Oh J.A., how you entertain me in a “I loathe you so much all I can do is laugh” kind of way. Oh, by the way, the waiter told us how much he hated him after the meal as well – did I mention that I really liked our waiter?

So there you have it, the Purple Pig. Do you know what this extravagant feast ran us? Significantly less than 2 bills with tax, tip, and 3 glasses of wine each. That’s ridiculous. Go here.    

Goose Island Brewery

Day 1: If you thought we would take it easy on our first day, well, I don't think you read the intro, ;). That's ok. So, we kicked off our morning promising each other that we would be really good until we got to Chicago... and then we got to the airport. After a morning of scrambling to find ID for Anisha, hastily packing up last minute, and making our way through (surprisingly lax) LaGuardia security we found ourselves starving. Despite our best intentions and a 10 minute struggle to convince ourselves to go for the ridiculously overpriced fruit salad, we succumbed to our baser instincts and went for an otherwise unmemorable bacon, egg, and cheese, distinguished only by the fact that it was our first meal of our vacation. It's ok though, because we split... right? ...Right!?!

Moving on. Zip through time to around 1:30pm CT and we've managed to make our way across 8 states (ok, ok, so I made that number up - I'm really bad at geography), one time zone, and an inestimable number of miles (yes, I know they tell you how many miles your flight is, but I didn't check. Did I mention I'm also lazy?), and we found ourselves sitting comfortably in a booth at one of Chicago's preeminent breweries - and much to our surprise (cover your eyes food snobs!) gastropubs - Goose Island. Now, if there is one alcoholic beverage that I love above and beyond all others, it's beer - at least at the time of this blog post, :). So imagine my excitement when the menu comes around and beers that I have trouble finding on the East Coast are on tap.

As I perused through the choices my eyes landed on the (Ipa and stout, insert language). Anisha, being a big fan of Belgians and wheats (imagine how she gets when she finds that unholy union known as a Belgian wheat), went for the 312 Urban Wheat Ale. As we were waiting for the beers to arrive our eyes turned to the menu. Knowing we had an epic meal coming up in a few short hours - more on that later - we decided to go with a "light" meal. And by that, I mean we limited ourselves to one dish - Duck Poutine.

This bad boy came with duck confit, roasted shallots, and duck demiglace - better yet, since we mentioned we were splitting, the kitchen brought us two equally humongous plates of perfectly crisp fries drowning in squeaky, oozing curds and over-the-top rich duck gravy. Oh, and we went for two more beers – a cask conditioned oatmeal stout that put a smile on my face for myself, and Anisha got a beer that she can’t remember. Lightweight. Can I just say that the Canadians absolutely do not get enough credit for inventing this wondrous dish of caloric death in a bowl? Magic, just magic. Canada, I salute you. You're like the little cousin that no one ever expects much out of, so when you do deliver it's that much sweeter! (I kid, I kid! Please, no hate mail. Although I'm sure it would be the politest hate mail ever.) I digress - so to summarize, Goose Island had great food, a great beer, and it was all really affordable. The portions were big enough to split and they had a ton of interesting dishes that won't necessarily expand your culinary perspective, but they'll make you damn happy and, of course, the beers were fantastic. Go there. Do it. Like, now.

Tune in tomorrow for din din…

Welcome to our blog

Introduction:

I hope you'll excuse this moment of self indulgence, but we wanted to tell you a little bit about ourselves before launching into our culinary adventures - we think the background will help you understand our "culinary perspective." The quotes are a wink and a nod to those who actually make our tummies so happy, ;). Thank you to the countless bartenders, chefs, cooks, mixologists, servers, and everyone that I'm forgetting - you are the absolute best and make dining worth it. Seriously, THANK YOU!!!Ok, so who are we? Well, nobodies really - just a pair of kids that love them so grub (and I use the term kid loosely - we're both 25, but if you met us you would know what I meant, ;)). That said, we definitely bring a certain view to the table - if you don't care and just want to hear about some amazing food, well skip down to the next post. We won't hold it against you - promise!

Me (Justin): PR professional, amateur cook, bartender and hedonist, all-around goof ball. So, yeah, writing up a self-bio is a bit funky, but bear with me. I'm a straightforward guy - I love beer, whiskey, and food - but I also have an appreciation for the finer things that all of the world's artists can create. In my eyes the world is a giant playground and I wish we were all the old children we sort of are - does that make sense? Probably not. Anyway, yes, I love food and by taking a part of this blog (it's all Anisha's idea - she runs the show) I hope to share a little piece of myself with the world, and if I could have my way, maybe inspire the same awe, admiration, appreciation, and gimme-dat-dish love I have for food and all of the people that make my gluttony possible. Now, time to hear about the brains behind this operation, ;) - and if we haven't lost you by then, we're going to wrap with how we're planning to run this blog. You know, so you actually know what you're reading (and why you should care in the slightest, :)). Thanks, all.

Anisha: Ok, so I thought Anisha was going to write this, but apparently she wants to see me say really sweet things about her (*thinking* *treading carefully* ;)). Jokes aside this woman is the most amazing person I've ever met - we can leave the praise at that. If you ever want to hear why ask me in person - or email us at munchingonthis@gmail.com - and I promise to make you feel sickly sweet. So, back to Anisha - law student, airmchair therapist, flavor goddess (you gotta let me suck up a little, ;)). Anisha is the yin to my yang, the pepper to my salt, the... You get it. She balances us, and our food, and will be the voice of reason for this blog. What I'm saying is, when you don't get the bacon-wrapped date bourbon cocktail with a smoked salt rim finish, blame Anisha. (Wait, what am I saying??? That sounds AMAZEBALLZ. Ok, that might actually happen now - stay tuned.)

Manchego: So I tried to get Munchie to write this, but If you thought the iPad keyboard was a pain try typing with paws (ba-da-ching! Yeah, I like bad jokes... Takes some getting used to.). Anyway, Manchego – Munchie for short – is a sweet, mischievous (I can’t emphasize this enough), cunning, totally calculating but at the same time naïve cat - he's a keeper and we love him. And it's not just because he eats like a dog and not a cat... Or so I keep telling Anisha, ;).

Us (Munching on this): We are that couple you know *alert, alert - humblebrag incoming* that is always talking about the restaurant they just ate at or the meal or drink they just made - annoying, right? Instead we figured why not create a blog where we could talk about all of that stuff but not be pretentious about it... or not as pretentious. With that in mind, we're not quite sure where we're going with this - Anisha will be posting, I will be posting, and knowing us, there's a chance Munchie will be posting. However it turns out, though, we promise original (and riffs on originals, ;)) recipes, both food and drink, as well as a thorough overview of our culinary adventures outside of our own kitchen. We know that there are a million food blogs out there, so for whoever does read this - Dana? - we appreciate your support and are always here for any questions. 

Couple things - please be respectful with your comments, and we will always respond to both comments and emails to munchingonthis@gmail.com .  We'd love to hear from you (seriously, we'd geek out).This is our spiel, thanks for listening if you got this far, and we're kicking this off with a series of posts about our recent time in Chicago. I won't give too much away, but if you like food, I think you'll like them. Plus, you'll finally get to hear from Anisha, ;). Thanks for stopping by all (or just mom... probably mom)!