So what was my most read post this past week? My take on artificial intelligence? My thoughtful dissection of the abortion issue? No. The visit to Culver's, top post of the week, third this past month. Apparently politics is out, eateries are in.
Okay, I can work with that. It happens that Tuesday I met a neighbor at the Bean Bar for coffee at 11 a.m. (ordered a flat white; the place was well-populated, sad that Northbrook, in its general mismanagement, will wipe it away to build apartments). We finished about a quarter to 12, and I ambled over to Sunset to pick up some pumpkin puree for the dog (we add it to her meals; aids the digestion). I love being in a suburb where I can walk places, though I'll be down a few important destinations — a coffee shop, a bookstore, a hardware store — after that building goes up. Dumb.
So I thought I would treat myself by sliding by Little Louie's, Northbrook's beloved hot dog stand since 1967. I wasn't planning to write about it — didn't even snap a shot of the interior. But when my jumbo kosher hot dog arrived, it was such a thing of beauty, I had to take its portrait. I ordered it with mustard and grilled onions. While those onions are more ... substantial than I expected, they added a whole new dimension to the dining experience, and I did not mind them. You'll notice that I didn't order it with ketchup — while I hate the "you're not a Chicagoan if you put ketchup on hot dogs" idiocy, that doesn't mean it's my go-to move (though I did add a dollop from the red container on the table, for just a taste. Mmmm.)
Okay, I can work with that. It happens that Tuesday I met a neighbor at the Bean Bar for coffee at 11 a.m. (ordered a flat white; the place was well-populated, sad that Northbrook, in its general mismanagement, will wipe it away to build apartments). We finished about a quarter to 12, and I ambled over to Sunset to pick up some pumpkin puree for the dog (we add it to her meals; aids the digestion). I love being in a suburb where I can walk places, though I'll be down a few important destinations — a coffee shop, a bookstore, a hardware store — after that building goes up. Dumb.
So I thought I would treat myself by sliding by Little Louie's, Northbrook's beloved hot dog stand since 1967. I wasn't planning to write about it — didn't even snap a shot of the interior. But when my jumbo kosher hot dog arrived, it was such a thing of beauty, I had to take its portrait. I ordered it with mustard and grilled onions. While those onions are more ... substantial than I expected, they added a whole new dimension to the dining experience, and I did not mind them. You'll notice that I didn't order it with ketchup — while I hate the "you're not a Chicagoan if you put ketchup on hot dogs" idiocy, that doesn't mean it's my go-to move (though I did add a dollop from the red container on the table, for just a taste. Mmmm.)
Little Louie's has a deep menu, for a hot dog stand — I sometimes pair a hot dog with a strawberry salad — and a wide array of Mexican items I have yet to try.
The owner since 1999, Pete Weiss was behind the counter, and we exchanged greetings. Through an act of will, I skipped fries. The Little Louie's fries are epic. They're also probably 800 calories for a weighty brown paper bag's worth. I did upscale my dog order — usually I get a regular char dog, but, perhaps because I was going fryless, I went for the jumbo kosher dog, even though it clocks in at a surprising $11.75. Honestly, knowing how jarred the place was by COVID, I considered it a donation toward the continuing dynamism of my leafy suburban paradise. I can struggle forward without the Bean Bar — it only opened a few years back. But Little Louie's is essential.
The owner since 1999, Pete Weiss was behind the counter, and we exchanged greetings. Through an act of will, I skipped fries. The Little Louie's fries are epic. They're also probably 800 calories for a weighty brown paper bag's worth. I did upscale my dog order — usually I get a regular char dog, but, perhaps because I was going fryless, I went for the jumbo kosher dog, even though it clocks in at a surprising $11.75. Honestly, knowing how jarred the place was by COVID, I considered it a donation toward the continuing dynamism of my leafy suburban paradise. I can struggle forward without the Bean Bar — it only opened a few years back. But Little Louie's is essential.
So much so that, Friday, I ambled over to grab a shot of the interior. I was going to ask Pete to pose, but he wasn't there. Maybe next time.
Fixed? Published immediately. No delayed gratification.
ReplyDeleteThat's the thing about about fast food joints. It's like the weather. We can all relate and we all have a story to tell. And these little mom & pop sandwich joints are such a treasure. When you find a good one, you can't help but go back, over and over. There's one in Downers Grove that we go to often called Cozzi Corner. I always get the Italian sausage, my wife usually gets the Italian beef, dipped. Limited seating but there are huge, clean picnic tables right outside the door. There's a joint in up in Woodruff, WI. that's been there forever called Hoggie Doggies. Chicago style Vienna beef hotdogs in the northwoods. No indoor seating -- you order at a window and eat at a picnic table, weather permitting. Closed in winter, of course. I can't remember when it wasn't there.
ReplyDeleteThank you for mentioning the "No ketchup on a Chicago Hot dog" slur. People actually get angry when you push back against this ridiculous regional meme. I'll eat my hot dog anyway I please, you miserable, condescending scold. It's a friggin" hot dog for Dog sakes...
ReplyDelete