Sweet Home Chicago: HHR Gets a Taste of the Windy City
Lucas and I spent the last few days in Chicago working on a project, scouting out some venues for BwB3 and trying to take in as much of the city’s unique character that one can in such a short time window.
Luckily, we spent a good portion of that time with Chicago-native and Anne Sather-lover Mitch Bisschop of Wondershot Productions.
While most people (myself included) associate Chicago culinary specialties with pizza and hot dogs, I came to discover on Sunday night that the city takes its BBQ seriously, and everyone is loyal to their preferred joint.
On Sunday night, Mitch and I were fortunate to have been hosted by a few sports blogging locals – Sarah Spain, ChicagoNow.com‘s Jimmy Greenfield and The Heckler‘s Brad Zibung – at the Twin Anchors in the Old Town section. The place was Jimmy’s choice “since Biasetti’s closed” and he could not have picked a better place to kick off our trip. Simply put, it’s a no bullshit bar and restaurant. I went with the zesty rib/chicken combo and a couple of Bud longnecks.
Twin Anchors, 1655 North Sedgwick Street
Tweeter @harrypav let me know that the Gale Street Inn is just as good, if not better. As I said, people here take their BBQ seriously.
Lucas’ plane was two hours behind schedule, so I figured I’d try my best to soldier on and try to stay awake. Our hotel was downtown, not far from the iconic Marina City Towers. The area was littered with a mix of chains and dives. I had my eye out for the latter, and wound up at Mother Hubbard‘s near the corner of Hubbard and State. Typical sports bar – billiards, punching bag, plenty of flat screens. It’s open until 4 AM, but I don’t think I made it past midnight. Good dude behind the bar – Dennis – and a bouncer who was intent on making sure I found a place to sit.
Mother Hubbard's, 5 West Hubbard Street
Monday took us out to shoot in the suburbs, and we’ll have more on that when we get the videos cut. Back in the city, we started heading down State Street a little after 8. By chance, we ended up popping into the place that became our most memorable around 9.
When we saw the sign for the Underground Wonder Bar, we thought we found a place where we could grab a few cheap drinks before hitting the town. Once inside, we were content for the night. Our bartender Tony greeted Lucas with a “right on” when he ordered a Bulleit on ice, and hooked me up with local brewery Goose Island’s 312 Urban Wheat Ale. Tony gave us the rundown on the Wonder Bar, which was opened by his mother – local music icon Lonie Walker – and is operated by the family, which includes about 8 siblings. The venue prides itself on being “Live 365.” Tony told us the place will be closed this month for 2 days for the first time in 12 years (since an older brother is getting married in Mexico).
Underground Wonder Bar's Jordan Taggart & Lonie Walker
As Tony’s shift was ending, we decided to walk a little further down and check out the upscale Tavern on Rush. Not a terrible place, but we were both smitten with the UWB, so we paid for the over-priced drinks and headed back to where we had just come from.
Tony’s brother Jordan was now manning the ship, and picked up right where Tony had left off (Tony put in a good word for us). A musician himself who also teaches spoken word poetry, we asked Jordan to brave the wind and tells us a little more about the place and why he loves Chicago.
Jordan Taggart of the Underground Wonder Bar, Chicago, IL from HHR on Vimeo.
The “Live 365″ tag is no joke. The night we were there, phenomenal guitarist and vocalist Joanna Woods held the place down during the few hours of open mic before the neo-soul/jazz duo Double Shot came on at midnight. Joanna even convinced Chris to show off his chops, sharing her Taylor acoustic with him.
Chris with Joanna Woods at Underground Wonder Bar
We could not speak highly enough of the people, patrons and atmosphere of the place if we tried.
Monday we intended to wrap up shooting some b-roll, but Mitch (who had to drop off a friend at work), took care of most of it by the time we met up with him at Millennium Park’s Cloud Gate sculpture, affectionately known to locals as “The Bean.”
We spent the morning checking up on some BwB venues in Wrigleyville.
Mr. Cub
The stadium is literally in a neighborhood. Mitch pointed out that – between the noise, the booze and the fans relieving themselves on front lawns – you simply need to love Cubs baseball to live there. As we walked through the area – the morning after the team’s home opener - evidence of the party from the day before was still present.
Without the time commitment needed for Chicago deep dish, we grabbed lunch at Murphy’s Red Hots – “Proud Member of the Vienna Beef Hot Dog Hall of Fame.”
Mitch got the Italian beef (wet). After numerous homophobic jokes, I still don’t think I ever got a straight (no pun intended) answer as to exactly what the local staple was.
Chris and I went with the red hots (hot dogs). Mine with everything but onions; his with everything but relish.
As we ate, the proprietor refused to put ketchup on a customer’s order.
The convo went something like this:
Owner: “We don’t do that.”
Customer: “But I’m a big ketchup guy.”
Owner: “Most ketchup people are.”
The owner went on to explain that when a person puts the red stuff on a hot dog, it overwhelms the meat and all you taste is the ketchup, essentially doing the dog a disservice. When prodded that mustard would do the same, the owner noted that the mustard compliments the flavor, whereas the ketchup buries it.
Murphy's Red Hot with Everything
Which brings me to a point. I thought the Chicago dog would blow me away. The problem is I didn’t realize until towards the last bite just how delicious the Vienna Beefs are. The dog I had had a seeded bun, was sprinkled with celery salt, had hot peppers, tomato, pickles, mustard, relish and a cucumber on it. I couldn’t taste the spicy, grilled dog.
Don’t get me wrong. It was great. But I think there needs to be a better science to appreciating it.
What doesn’t need a better science to appreciating is the city of Chicago. Lucas, an admitted Windy City-hater, has since been reformed, and there isn’t a better proponent for the town than Mitch. Can’t wait to get back in June for BwB.
