See? They're working on it.
Everybody just calm down a minute: The extremely anthropomorphic, vaguely sexual, highly entertaining and somewhat disturbing mural that you’ve seen countless times at Jake’s Pup in the Ruf is not—I repeat, not—gone forever. I know, because yesterday I called Jake and asked him why the mural wasn’t there anymore.
“Because we took it down,” he said. “Why? Who wants to know?”
Then he answered his own question by saying, sarcastically: “It’s only been on there for 49 years.”
In the half-decade the mural has been up it had gotten a little shoddy, so Jake wanted to refresh it. I suppose this is a good thing for Jake’s, Jake’s customers and also people like me, who have never actually stepped foot inside of Jake’s, but rather treated it more like public art. But there is always that worry when iconic things get updated that things will change, maybe get a little more contemporary. What I’m saying is, I don’t want to see any Obama references on this window, you know? I want to see more dancing hot dogs.
Luckily, before Jake rushed off the phone, he told me that the mural, when completed, would be exactly the same as what it was. Only now, he said, “it’s going to be perfect.”
Monday night may not be your going-out evening of choice, but for thousands of restaurant employees it’s the only free night there is. With those industry folks in mind, Nightwood has decided to open its doors for dinner on Monday nights. So tonight, and the next few Monday nights, consider visiting for prime chefspotting. (Or for a really good roasted chicken.)
Meyer's iconic sign can be seen in the new Gene's Sausage, which opens tomorrow.
This may be old news to you, but it bears repeating anyway: A slew of iconic, old-school food joints are back from hiatus this weekend. Here’s a list:
- Delicatessen Meyer, which closed in March 2007, is coming back tomorrow, kind of. Gene’s Sausage Shop has moved into the space, but the essence (and signage) of Meyer will be in full force. 4750 N Lincoln Ave.
- Sun Wah, the much-loved Chinese barbecue joint, has reopened after a brief hiatus. 5039 N Broadway.
- Salam—perhaps the most authentic and delicious Middle Eastern food in the city—will reopen on Saturday in a bigger and ostensibly less-divey space. (And if the Grand Re-Opening deal—a meat combo plate with humus, babaganouj, fries or rice, salad and pita for $6.95—is any indication, the prices are not going up.)
- And Ba Le—well, Ba Le is still around for now, but in two months it will move to a bigger space next door. So when it see that it’s gone, don’t freak out. If it isn’t obvious already, these types of restaurants have a tendency to reappear.
Today, the Publican sent out a press release about a new menu category:
“The new ‘Kitchen’ category on the Publican’s beer list gives guests the opportunity to says ‘thanks’ to the staff. For $10, diners can treat the kitchen to a six-pack of beer.”
And with that, restaurant worship officially hit its peak. Or at least I hope this is the peak. If it goes any further, I imagine we’ll stop eating at restaurants altogether—instead, we’ll just go to them, sit down, and send the restaurateurs and chefs full meals. And flowers. And prostitutes! All for the privilege of allowing us to exist in the same space as them.
Still, there’s something enticing about this idea of “saying thanks” to an underpaid group of creative folks. So, on the off chance this trend takes off, I took the liberty of asking around the office and seeing what kind of $10 gifts the editors and writers of TOC would like to receive. I’d say that you kind folks who already pay for a subscription to the magazine are exempt from sending gifts. But apparently, that doesn’t count anymore! So let the gifting begin.
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A couple of weeks ago, we broke the news about Lula’s 2009 Halloween shtick: It’s teamed up with Doug Sohn to open “Not Doug’s,” a zombie version of Hot Doug’s. It starts at 6pm Saturday, October 31 (before that, Lula will be open for brunch as normal, 9am until 2:30pm), and if you weren’t already excited about it, check out the menu below. It beats the hell out of a bag full of Milky Ways.
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For our final installment of 10 Days of Cookbooks, we turn to that odd category of books that look, feel and read like literature and yet contain recipes nevertheless. Often these are food memoirs, and often the recipes are completely tossed aside. That’s my experience with these books, anyway. I keep my reading books out of the kitchen, for fear of getting sauce on them.
In this respect, Far Flung and Well Fed is no different from the others. But it’s a crucial food book this fall, because like the best cookbooks, it deftly expands the food knowledge (and appreciation) of all who read it. For those not familiar with Apple, here’s a quick bio: He was a reporter for the New York Times for 40 years. He covered Washington, and war, and whole bunch of other newsy things. He filed stories from all over the world, and aside from his writing (which he was justifiably famous for) he was known for two things: Having a legendary expense account, and using that account to eat. Inevitably, he would file a story about the restaurants he visited and the chefs/producers/artisans he met. This is a collection of those stories.
I’ll admit that I haven’t read the entire book yet. It’s divided into geographical sections (West Coast; France; Asia), and then into quick articles within those. I don’t suspect I’ll finish it anytime soon, either. I prefer to read this book as I used to read Apple when he was still alive (he died in 2006)—that is, once or twice a month, in the pages of the paper. That way I can savor his incomparable way with words, make it last. Because if I’ve learned anything from reading Apple, it’s that it pays to make all things pleasurable last.
Today, for the first time (I think), I was compared to Hitler. It’s a taste of my own medicine, I guess. I’m quick with the Holocaust references. But if this distasteful habit of mine was going to turn in my direction, I would have thought something bigger than bacon would have prompted it.
But no. You don’t mess with bacon folks. I learned that the hard way today, when the responses started pouring in to my essay in this week’s issue, Against Bacon. Let’s review:
- Jenni Spinner threw that Hitler remark my way, and also recommended a song for me.
- Mike Altshuler threatened to meet me in an alley someday, and demanded I be deported.
- Scott Smith called me a killjoy. (Traitor.)
- Chuck Sudo at Chicagoist wrote that I sound like Clint Eastwood in Gran Torino (which I’m told is a bad thing). A commenter counters by saying I sound like Andy Rooney.
- Over at LTHForum, David Hammond says that my piece was unkind savagry.
And that was just today. Can’t wait for tomorrow. In the meantime, I’ll be avoiding the alleys.
Photo: Martha Williams
This one’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? You need to buy Gourmet Today, because there’ll be no Gourmet Tomorrow.
Photo: Martha Williams
Two years ago I tried reading Judith Jones’s autobiography, The Tenth Muse. But despite my healthy effort, I failed. It was a terrifically boring book, and had Judith Jones been anybody but Judith-Jones-The-Famous-Editor-Who-Published-Julia-Child-and-Anne-Frank, I’m sure it would have never found a publisher.
Does that sound harsh? Sorry, but I’m a little down on the woman. I’ve been enamored with her new cookbook—The Pleasures of Cooking for One—for weeks, and I was in the middle of a daydream of sitting beside her, stroking a cow, when I read her snippy comments about Gourmet.
Since then, she and I have had a complicated relationship.
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Belly Shack—the follow-up to Bill Kim and Yvonne Cadiz-Kim’s Urban Belly—opens in the former Vella Cafe space under the Western Blue Line stop (1912 N Western Ave) at noon today, and if it were just a little closer to TOC’s office, I’d probably be the first one there. I just got off the phone with Belly Shack’s manager, and from what I can tell the new spot is a little like an Asian/Latino XOCO (if Rick Bayless were into skater culture). Like XOCO, the menu consists only of soups (today’s is a hot-and-sour soup with hominey, chicken and cilantro—kind of an Asian-style pozole, I guess); sandwiches (Asian meatballs with rice noodles and mint on an Iranian flatbread called samoon); and sides (roasted squash with maple syrup and pho spices; tostones with chimichurri). While there are no churros available, there are the makings of a cult-worthy dessert: soft serve with toppings such as Vietnamese cinnamon caramel, huckleberry-lime sauce and Mindy Segal’s bacon-chocolate chips.
