I have a visitor for much of this week: Adam King, the son of my best friend of yore, Kenny King, who died suddenly and unexpectedly in April of last year. The link in the previous sentence goes to my memoriam for Kenny, but now his son is passing through Chicago on his way back to Valencia, Spain, where he lives.
Kenny was a sports fan, and so is Adam, so he wanted to see some baseball—and have a Chicago pizza. We’ve now fulfilled both of those aims, though so far baseball has been limited to the White Sox, a team that, as Kenny’s sportswriter brother Peter says, “blows.” (You may know Peter King from his football broadcasting on television and his weekly column in Sports Illustrated.) Tomorrow Adam will go to a real baseball game, watching the Cubs at Wrigley field.
But first, the pizza. There are two unique Chicago-style pizzas: deep dish (a thick bready crust, about 1.5 inches thick, covered with cheese, tomato, and, ideally, homemade sausage) and the stuffed pizza: two crusts bracketing a filling of melted cheese and other stuff, and with tomato sauce on top. I decided that the stuffed pizza was more representative of a pie you can’t get elsewhere, at least of the quality it attains in Chicago. So we went to Giordano’s and ordered the Giordano’s special, the “Chicago Classic,” size medium. This feeds four people, since two slices are all most folks can manage.
Here’s Adam about to dig into his first piece:
I just realize that Adam reminds me a bit of the younger Tom Cruise. Do you agree?
A closeup of this vaunted pie, which is groaning with gobs of cheese, pepperoni, onions, green peppers, and mushrooms. You haven’t lived till you’ve had one of these—but only in Chicago.
Giordano’s is BYOB, so I went down the street to get beer while our pie was cooking (it takes 45 minutes). I was about to get a six-pack of a good craft beer when I spotted a huge case of Rolling Rock: 30 cans for $13. I immediately bought it, but not because of the price.
I bought it because it was the beer that Adam’s father and I drank most often when we were in college (probably because it was cheap and fairly drinkable). You can see below a picture of Kenny and I taken in 1977 by Clark Quin, a fellow W&M alumnus who was also a photographer. I’m holding a cigarette (I smoked a bit at that time), and Kenny is holding a “pony bottle” of Rolling Rock. Besides being tipsy on Rock, we were also stoned out of our gourds, which is probably obvious from the photo. Rolling Rock is really beer-flavored soda, weak and watery, but we drank it as a toast to Kenny.
The game between the Chicago White Sox and Texas Rangers was played at what is now called “US Cellular Field,” a capitalistic corruption of the Sox’s old stadium: Comiskey Park. It was an exciting game, with some great fielding, and a long one. Many players got on base, but couldn’t score; and, with the score tied 2-2, it went into extra innings. Finally, at the bottom of the 11th inning (there are normally nine), Gordon Beckham, the Sox’s third baseman, poled a long homer to left field that won the game. Although many misguided fans had already left the stadium, it was a dramatic ending that created pandemonium on and off the field. Here we are in the 10th inning.
Damn, I miss Chicago-style pizza! I love the “Chicago Special,” too, which many restaurants carry. A favorite for special occasions: pepperoni, onions, and garlic (sliced, not chopped).
In NY we have UNO’s “chicago style pizza”. I’m not sure how authentic they are, but they are deep dish.
Sadly, the Edwardos near the U of Chicago has closed down.
Did it really? How sad. They had good pizza. For my money the best Chicago pizza has always been Bacino’s, but they only have one location, and that’s up in Lincoln Park. Their crust in awesome.
Yeah, that was my go-to place. I passed it on my walk home, and sometimes when I was feeling peckish I’d order a large Edwardo’s Special to pick up. I’d then take it home, eat about a quarter of it, and save the rest for meals over the next two days.
Cold pizza makes an awesome breakfast. Pity that they closed the local Edwardo’s. Fortunately, Giordano’s is not very far.
Hehe. I love cold pizza for breakfast. I went home one weekend, and on Saturday morning was delighted to find some cold, stuffed pizza in the fridge. I bite into a piece only to discover that my dad had indulged in his fondness for Anchovies! Not what I was expecting.
That pizza is how I make mine, except without the bit on top. Pizza is my favourite food, and a good one is delicious cold too.
My favorite was the Edwardo’s near the podiatry school. The school was at Oak and Dearborn, and the restaurant was within a block or so. Is it still open?
“…deep dish … and the deep-dish pizza”
That could use some clarification. I think the second kind, which you enjoyed, is called “stuffed” pizza.
Fixed, thanks!
Good seats, high up the first base side. Sounds like the perfect game at the home field. Win it in the 11th inning with a home run.
Memory not so good but I thought by 77 the hair and more hair phase was on the way out? You could have said that was Cat Stevens and I would have bought it.
Sure looks like 3rd base side to me. There was plenty of long hair left in ’77, but that was when lots of guys started to cut it shorter. Not coincidentally many of the baby boomers were starting to get old enough to have to get a real job which usually requires a hair cut and sometimes a shave.
I’ll just leave it for you to take the survey on long hair at that time John. I was married and had a real job so not much time to count.
Growing up in western NY, I have some fond memories of Rolling Rock (then brewed in Latrobe, PA). It was also the favorite brew of my High School science teacher (one of the good ones). My other memories of him were his stories of WWII.
Same here, I grew up in the suburbs of Buffalo and Rolling Rock was our preferred brew. Back when I was a teenager, the drinking age in NY was 18.
great story hope he liked the pizza ( my mouth was watering )
This is a pretty touching post. It’s nice of you to keep in touch and maintain a relationship with your bud’s son like this. I’m sure it would have made him happy to know you’d be there for his family.
+1
ditto
+ 3
I went to college in West Virginia, at a time in which the patchwork alcohol laws allowed me to legally purchase whiskey by the half gallon at age 18, but prohibited the sale of Rolling Rock as it was a higher alcohol content than the 3.2 beer allowed by the solons of Charleston. We drove into Pennsylvania to purchase all our beer, Rolling Rock included. The laws at that time (mid-70s) also had the effect of outlawing bars. All bars immediately became “private clubs,” and I had a big thick wad of cards indicating that I was a member in good standing of various honky tonks. A membership card usually cost 50 cents and they gave you a free drink.
Very good example of state to state differences on every issue. Kansas was always a 3.2 beer state and allowed purchase at 18 years old. We use to travel down there so we could sit in the bars and look like adults. But many areas of Kansas, maybe the whole state was, no liquor by the drink. So you would buy membership to bar and bring your own bottle and they would keep it there behind the bar. Crazy
My best friend and I used to go dancing in an after-hours club like that, back around 1980.
The long hair phase may have been near the end, but in 77 my hair was at its longest ever, and stayed that way until I joined the Marine Corps in 81.
I lived in the Texas Panhandle, but the Oklahoma State line was closer than the nearest county selling alcohol so we grew up on ‘near bear’, or 3.2 beer, from the ‘State Line Bar’ sitting on the border. On occasion we’d make the 42 mile trip to Pampa, Texas to get ‘real beer’. I once made the trip at 110 miles an hour for long stretches of the road in order to get whoever was with us of age at the time back home to meet a scheduled commitment. Whew! When I look back it was fun, but how did I ever survive it all?
Thanks, what a great post! It has everything, good food, family, memory, and a win for the home team. 🙂
And beer!
And even mention of Edwardo’s stuffed pizza! Oh, how I miss it.
And, a picture of PCC in full beard and mustache! He should consider regrowing an updated version, neat and tidy for the professional he now is. It would look very sophisticated.
I’m sorry. You shouldn’t be able to call that pizza.
Justice Scalia said Chicago-style pizza”is very tasty, but it’s not pizza,”
I find it hard to agree with anything that Scalia says but in this case I think he is right. There needs to be some other name for this stuff.
Touching post, I find it hard to keep up with old friends, let alone their kids. 30 cans of rolling rock shows true dedication 🙂
Well, there can be no doubt but that it’s a pie, which is all that the word really means. If a quiche is still a pie, if a double-crusted apple pie is still a pie…then a Chicago-style stuffed pizza is still a pie. And a savory yeast-dough-crust pie topped with tomato-based sauce optionally topped with meats and cheeses…that’s pizza.
…and, when done right, quite heavenly, whatever name you want to give it.
It’s worth noting that the basic formula of bread topped or stuffed with sauce and meats or cheeses is to be found pretty much everywhere. The sope, for example, is (one of) the classical Mexican variation(s)….
b&
I am in complete agreement with you there. Jon Stewart, on the other hand, had a little infamous blow-up over the issue about a year ago.
I greatly enjoyed that rant simply for its comedic value. As neither a Chicagoan or New Yorker I don’t have a dog in the fight and Steward didn’t change my mind on that, but as an example of the “trading jabs” form of humor, his was pretty good. The only thing that would’ve made it better is if a real Chicago comedian had responded in kind – rather than the mayor trying to do so. He should stick to his day job.
As for Chicago-style pizza: I’ve never been. There is a place in Berkeley CA – Zachary’s -that serves something similar, but rather than say its representative or imply it counts as Chicago-style, I’ll just say that if that’s what Chicago pizza is like, I look forward to eating the authentic version of it in the future.
It is both superb and is authentic.
Yeah…well…he’s a New Yorker. What does he know about pizza?
b&
By the way, yes, Adam reminds of Tom Cruise a bit. Like a larger, but younger brother.
I was always partial to Edwardo’s, but out here we have Rosati’s (a Chicago transplant.)
Peter King is not just “a sportswriter”, he’s the highest paid “multiplatform sports analyst” in the country!!!
…and why doesn’t peter King’s nephew have box seats!
The last time I went to see the Sox, with Kenny, his brother Bob (also deceased now) and Peter himself, we had great seats courtesy of Peter. But a sportswriter doesn’t have a right to get good seats, or any seats: it’s a courtesy that ball clubs sometimes extend to writers. Adam didn’t want to use his uncle’s clout to get good seats, and I agree with him.
It creeps me out when other people have my name.
Sounds like the perfect Chicago outing, and that pizza looks absolutely delicious!!
OMNOMNOM
I began reading WEIT mid-April of 2014, so I missed the lovely tribute to your best friend. It was very moving, and I’m glad I was able to read it. Though I am 20 years younger than you, and grew up in the hum-drum 80’s, I have similar friends with similar passions, adventures and sadly a couple fatalities. It reminded me of the value of friendship and how important good memories are, for in the end, they are all we have. And then we lose even the memories.
I think it is great that you can share good times with your best friend’s son. That is really cool.
Lastly, I really want to try Chicago’s famous deep-dish pizza: perhaps one day. Rolling Rock I’ve had and don’t really like, but that’s not why you bought it.
Giordano’s will always have a place in my heart (and stomach) as it was the first place I ate at in the summer of 2012 during my ill-fated attempt to relocate to Chicago. I also love Piece Brewery and Pizzaria even though it is infested with hipsters. Not a pizza place, but also for good brew is the Two Brothers Roundhouse out in Aurora, which was worth a weekly visit for me, since I was staying not too far away in Yorkville. I miss it so much! Anyone have a cheap rental house and a good job available around there? (Sigh)
How much time did you spend contemplating the significance of the “33”?
I’ve had deep-dish, but I’m not sure I’ve ever had “stuffed”. When does it become a calzone instead? 🙂
Better yet, what the hell is the difference between stromboli and calzone?
In the early ’80s Pizza Hut came out with a stuffed pizza they called Priazzo (or something like that). It was the best food item by far that Pizza Hut ever made, for what that is worth, and I never understood why they discontinued it. They only sold it for a few years, as far as I recall. Bad call.
I notice nobody’s weighing in on the merits of St. Louis-style pizza. Not a fan? I admit provell cheese takes some getting used to.
One thing that surprised me was finding Pizza Hut in Illinois. With all the good Chicago-style pizza, why in the hell would anyone eat Kansas’ “great gift” to the culinary world?!
Along those lines, there’s a street (Preston) here in Ottawa where there is a sort of “little Italy” and it is called “Corso Italia” informally and so on. Many Italian restaurants, gelataria, specialty stores, social clubs etc. are here.
However, also on Preston is a Domino’s. This is proof that markets are not rational. 🙂
Wow, Adam sure looks like his dad!
That is very gracious to show your friend’s son a good time in Chicago.
And oh, that pizza!
On my trip with my son to Chicago last year I only tried a couple smallish slices from Pizano’s Pizza, during a walking food tour.
I loved it and wanted more, but never made it to one of the famous places for a full pie experience. It’s haunted me ever since.
So when I took my son to San Francisco last week, upon reading a place there, Little Star, did good deep dish it was a must-do, to scratch that deep dish itch.
It was quite good, and only served to make me crave another trip to Chicago.
That sauce looks like the kind that burns the roof of your mouth so that you have some hanging skin the next day.
Clearly, I’m a glutton that can’t wait for pizza to cool. It looks really yummy!
LOL, I always burn my palate too. 😉
Love that old photograph. Our host, Phineas Freak.
Ah,shit. That would Phineas Phreak.
Sexy as hell, right?
How touching and heartwarming, Dr.C. Adam sure resembles his dad.
Wow, that is one unhealthy looking plate of meal. I can feel it doing me harm from half a world away, and my ears are burning in anticipation of being told “it’s FAT” by She Who must Be Obeyed, as she spoons cmetana into her borscht.
To quote another old comic, “a chorus of ‘yum’s ran around the table …”
I grew up in Decatur, IL (Soybean Capital of the World!). We were poor, but my dad worked for the Wabash RR, so I could get a pass to St. Louis to watch the Cards or to Chicago to watch the Cubs. Would call my friend, Larry, and off we would go. Saw Stan Musial hit four home-runs in a DH at old Sportsmans Park. From St. Louis, we could return the same day, but Chicago meant a seedy hotel stay near Dearborn Station on Saturday night, during the school year. The Bellman would say, “anything you boys need me to help you find?” We were 15-16, 60 years ago. Suppose today, our parents would be charged with child neglect.
Baseball, beer, and pizza.
Life is good!