Determined To Succeed

Whenever you visit a new city or country I think it’s absolutely imperative to sample some of the local culinary fare. If any of you have ever been to Chicago, which is a great food town whichever way you slice it (ha, I made a food joke), it behooves you to sample some foods that us Chicagoans can point to and say “yep, that is uniquely Chicago.”

There’s a “stuffed” pizza, a pizza so thick with gooey cheese and other ingredients you HAVE to use a fork and knife. There’s also the Italian Beef sandwich, made up of slices of rump roast beef marinated in a gravy of its own juices and spices, placed on an Italian roll, covered with sweet or hot peppers (maybe even cheese) and dipped whole back into its gravy of savory juices. Yum. But the most delicious (and portable) Chicago food is your good old-fashioned, classic Chicago-style hot dog.

I know what you’re saying, “there are hot dogs everywhere. Why not make or get one where you live?” My friends, the answer is simple. You can’t have a Chicago-style hot dog just anywhere because only in Chicago can all the proper ingredients be found, not to mention you’d then be enjoying it in the town that made it famous. Everyone has their favorite place to get their dogs (mine is Portillos or Superdawg), but throw a rock anywhere and you’d most likely hit a place that serves Chicago-style hot dogs especially if you get out to explore Chicago’s wonderful, eclectic and amazing neighborhoods.

The “Chicago Style” hot dog got its start from street cart hot dog vendors during the hard times of the Great Depression. Money was scarce, but business was booming for these entrepreneurs who offered a delicious hot meal on a bun for only a nickel. Thus, the famous Chicago-style hot dog was born! They’d start with a Vienna Beef hot dog, nestle it in a steamed poppyseed bun and cover it with a wonderful combination of toppings: yellow mustard, bright green relish, fresh chopped onions, juicy red tomato wedges, a kosher-style pickle spear, a couple of spicy sport peppers, cucumber and finally, a dash of celery salt. This unique hot dog creation with a “salad on top” and its memorable interplay of hot and cold, crisp and soft, sharp and smooth, became America’s original fast food and a true Chicago institution.

The Chicago-style hot dog is one of my favorite foods and is definitely “worth the splurge.” When I tried to find the calorie count for a typical Chicago-style hot dog I couldn’t find a consensus from one place to another, one website to another. So, erring on the side of caution, I am going to most-agree with the highest calorie count I found simply because this column is called “worth the splurge” and I want you (and your waistline) to be prepared. But even if this calorie count is true, at almost 400 calories you could do far worse in terms of eating, I think, especially given all the non-unique food choices we face every day.

• Calories: 377
• Total Fat: 19.7g
• Cholesterol: 30mg
• Sodium: 2387mg
• Total Carbs: 38g
• Dietary Fiber: 3.3g
• Protein: 12.4g

If you go, the legendary Superdawg is on the corner of Milwaukee and Devon (pronounced de-VAHN by us natives), while Portillos is a chain whose location in the heart of downtown is on the corner of Ontario and Clark. That’s tasty eatin’, indeed, so enjoy!

It’s usually not my style to be a bummer on weekends, especially since I have taken to writing just one blog to cover both Saturday and Sunday, but I learned of something rather disturbing and I wanted to share it with you.

The Chicago Sun-Times media wire has reported that a woman with a history of obesity died Thursday after collapsing at a popular eatery in Oak Lawn. Cheryl Varnado-Turner, 44, of 7259 S. Seeley Ave., collapsed at the Portillos restaurant in Oak Lawn and was pronounced dead at 5:59 p.m. Thursday, according to a Cook County Medical Examiner’s spokeswoman. Varnado-Turner has a history of obesity, the spokeswoman said. An autopsy determined Varnado-Turner died of coronary atherosclerosis and dilated cardiomyopathy, and her death was ruled natural.

I learned of this story from a dear friend of mine in Chicago and it really disturbed me on a few levels.

One – The original article didn’t list the name of the restaurant which is weird given that most stories  pull info from the police reports. I knew it was Portillos because my friend told me (she’s from that area). I’ve eaten and enjoyed many-a-meal from Portillos. It’s the place I keep telling you guys about with the delicious Italian Beef sandwiches and Chicago-style hot dogs. I’ve eaten Portillos hot dogs for years, particularly from their downtown Chicago location, and have been guilty of DUIPHD (driving under the influence of Portillos hot dogs).  Shame on the Sun-Times news wire for not saying the name of the place and for giving people enough credit to know it wasn’t their food that killed this woman (but more on that later) but her bad health.

Two – I did that kind of eating at 400 pounds and this woman’s tragic end could have been my own. It could have been me who died in this restaurant, or any restaurant, particularly the Chinese food restaurant I love. I still eat what I want but when I was that weight all it would have taken was one egg roll, hot dog, burger, Italian Beef, or stick of carrot to push me over the edge.

Three – Why is this news? The story made me mad because I doubt a story would have even been written if the woman was thin. It’s because this woman was obese and just happened to pass away in a fast food restaurant that it was news worthy, which leads me even more to think Portillos wanted to disassociate itself not from a tragedy but from obesity since so many fast food chains are feeling the backlash of the obesity epidemic in America. Again shame on the paper for not saying the name but also shame on Portillos for that disassociation.

I understand how easy it is for people, thin people in particular, to misinterpret and misunderstand this situation. I can see how they’d think it’s 100% lack of eating self control without even giving a thought to whether or not  it is sometimes the emotional side driving that eating, or a medical issue, etc.  Many people, yours truly included, don’t use tobacco, alcohol or drugs when bad things happen. We chose food. I still choose food sometimes. I am an emotional eater. It’s not that I don’t have self-control it’s that I eat when I am frustrated or scared or have anxiety. However now I try to do the right things – exercise, eat properly and recognize when I am weak.

It so could have been me.

Do not get me wrong, though. This story also disturbs me because this woman had to have known Portillos wasn’t the best choice for food. O.K., that was a nice way of saying she should have known better (if, indeed, it was just about overeating/eating bad foods and not an undisclosed health or injury problem). If you read this blog you know I firmly believe that we have a responsibility to ourselves as big people to “own the problem” we have. We are obese and we should do something about it instead of waiting for others to solve it for us. But nooooo, thanks to infomercials and other faster, quicker options we get snookered into thinking our weight issues can be solved by others and without the hard work of changing a diet for the better and exercising. It is hard work and it does take time…period.

I am sad for this woman and her family today, not just because they lost a loved one and a woman lost her life but for the ways in which this story will be interpreted. On one hand, some will say “see, she got what she deserved being that big.” And others will say “wow, I need to do something so I don’t end up like that.” And on this weekend I sincerely hope someone of size sees this story and thinks the latter and it helps save a life or two.

This way, Cheryl didn’t die in vain or as a joke like Elvis and his fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches on the toilet. People need and deserve more dignity than that.

Have you guys ever been to Las Vegas? If you have you know that the opportunity to gamble hits you as soon as you get off the plane. Near every gate slot machines welcome you much like the wonderful hula dancers do in Hawai’i. Except instead of Leis and the sounds of island music you are welcomed with the pings, dings and electronic sounds that beckon you to come a “throw a few in” before hitting “the Strip.”

For me going home to Chicago is the same kind of experience, except instead of really cool flowered necklaces or blinky “one-armed bandits” I am welcomed by the temptations of Chicago food, starting with the Chicago-style hot dog. I don’t remember if I’ve ever described to you how absolutely yummy a Chicago-style hot dog is so I’ll start with it’s ingredients:

One sesame seed hot dog bun steamed to perfect softness, one Vienna Beef frank, mustard (and absolutely never, under penalty of being shown to the next departing flight, do you EVER add ketchup), onions, nuclear green relish (Chicagoans know what I mean when I say nuclear green), hot peppers, cucumbers, tomato slices and a pickle wedge topped off with a sprinkle of celery salt. Now that’s good eatin’, and the beginning of my visit home.

Some of you might be saying “that’s too much crap to put on a hot dog.” Well, no it’s not. That’s why hot dogs are famous in Chicago.  They are absolutely delicious, and like the Sears Tower or Wrigley Field (my Field of Dreams), a part of the city itself. But the beauty of this is equal to the problem with it – it begins in the airport and it ends in the airport.

Whenever I go home my friends here in the Philadelphia/South Jersey area ask me “so Bill. Are you going to have any Chicago pizza when you get home? Or that Italian Beef sandwich you keep talking about?” And the answer is never easy. I say “Nah. This trip I’m going to have my favorite Chinese food (at least an egg roll or two). Maybe a hot dog.” You see I have to be sooooo careful whenever I go home because a trip home usually means being tempted by the same foods that helped me grow to be over 400 pounds.

Today, I was lucky enough to have one of my hometown papers, the Chicago Sun-Times, do a story on me and weight loss and that’s what got me thinking about going home and eating. It’s so automatic. It’s so instant. It’s so tempting. Most of all, it’s so dangerous. All the foods I love in my favorite place in the entire world – home. It’s comforting and dangerous and so very tempting to have my home food experience begin as soon as I get off that plane.

But do I enjoy myself? You bet your a – er, I mean, bottom dollar – I do. But now I have to be almost hyper aware of my surroundings, situations and emotions whenever I’m near my favorite places – like 65 Seafood Restaurant, my favorite Chinese Food and egg roll in the city, near the corner of Michigan Avenue & Wacker (Wacker. Wacker. It is funny sounding, I know, but a street name, nonetheless).The legendary Superdawg on the corner of Milwaukee and Devon (pronounced de-VAHN by us natives), or Portillos in the heart of downtown on the corner of Ontario and Clark. Even Gene & Jude Red Hot Stand on River Road who hand-cut their delicious french fries right in front of ya’. That’s tasty eatin’, indeed. Not to mention my South Side/Hyde Park favorites – Harold’s Chicken (best damn fried chicken in the city), Ribs ‘N Bibs and Valois, a restaurant known as much for its wonderful all-walks-of-life clientele as it is for its “see your food” cafeteria-style method of serving.

You can see how a Chicago boy like me could grow up to grow out so much. This is what I have to be hyper aware of when I go home – the cravings for all these foods bombarding me like the beautiful neon and lighted signs and pings, dings and blinks of the slot machines that are abound in Las Vegas.

Nowadays, I am better. Not perfect, but better, about eating if/when I go home. I certainly give myself a big pep talk before stepping foot on my homeward bound plane saying “OK, Larson. You know you need to make smart choices. If you’re gonna have this you can’t have that. Got it?” And if I am lucky I do avoid giving in to the culinary temptations that surround me almost at every corner.

However I do admit having slot machines in the airport is a smart deal. They may not get you coming in, but, ideally, you’ve had so much fun you want just one last taste of it before heading back to reality, especially when waiting for your flight. This is the exact thing I feel in C Terminal at O’Hare International Airport. Whenever I’m home I have a blast just walking the streets that I want one more Taste of Chicago before heading back to Philly…

…one more hot dog for the road.

And for those history buffs out there…

The “Chicago Style” hot dog got its start from street cart hot dog vendors during the hard times of the Great Depression. Money was scarce, but business was booming for these entrepreneurs who offered a delicious hot meal on a bun for only a nickel. The famous Chicago Style Hot Dog was born! They’d start with a Vienna Beef hot dog, nestle it in a steamed poppyseed bun and cover it with a wonderful combination of toppings: yellow mustard, bright green relish, fresh chopped onions, juicy red tomato wedges, a kosher-style pickle spear, a couple of spicy sport peppers, cucumber and finally, a dash of celery salt. This unique hot dog creation with a “salad on top” and its memorable interplay of hot and cold, crisp and soft, sharp and smooth, became America’s original fast food and a true Chicago institution.