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Few sandwiches in your life will top the authentic, Chicago-style Italian Beef sandwich. Heaven on what should be an adequately soggy French roll. A few slices of seasoned beef, covered with peppers and vegetables and doused in the meat juice. And when I say that the roll must be soggy, I mean if Parker Kligerman were to put his hand on the roll, he would say “It’s raining.”
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But not just any cheeseburger. I’m talking one from the legendary Billy Goat Tavern, located under Michigan Avenue. You read that right – UNDER. This is a no-frills joint opened in 1934, popularized in the 1970s on “Saturday Night Live” (For those old enough, you’ll recall the skit John Belushi repeating “Cheeseburger Cheeseburger Cheeseburger” to an annoyed customer). There are other locations around the city, but I recommend the original. Did I mention it’s under Michigan Avenue? It’s a rare opportunity to say you ate one story below a race track. Don’t miss it.
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You’ve probably picked up on how “Chicago-style” means “covered in layers and layers of other things.” You’d be correct. To be honest, I thought we should have a “Chicago-style” race in which the track is covered in onions, ground beef, mustard, sour cream and au jus but got roundly rejected. Anyways, the Chicago Dog is a must-have. First off, gotta be an all-beef dog on a poppy-seed bun. Atop the dog must be tomatoes, peppers, mustard, chopped onions, relish and yes, an entire pickle spear. If you thought the Martinsville hot dog was a digestive endeavor, buddy your lower intestine has been playing single-A ball. Also, for some reason, never ever put ketchup on a hot dog in Chicago. Why? I don’t know. But if you do you might as well wear Denny Hamlin pajama pants into the Dawsonville Pool Room. You’ve been warned.
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For this, you’ll have to head up north to Wrigley Field, where conveniently enough, the Chicago Cubs will be hosting a special NASCAR night on Thursday, June 29. Look at this magnificent creation. Like, two pounds of nachos, coated in all the things that make nachos awesome – cheese, onions, sour cream, jalapeños, and probably more – served in a souvenir Cubs batting helmet. As you lick the toppings from your fingers, you’ll begin wondering why race tracks don’t serve nachos in race helmets, much like I have every night before I fall asleep for decades.