The Bracket

"Nothing would be more tiresome than eating and drinking if God had not made them a pleasure as well as a necessity." - Voltaire

Ladies and gentlemen, it all comes down to this. The bracket for The Loop Lunch Club Tournament has been set and all that remains is the arduous decision making procedure that will produce a champion. What began as a shadow of an idea, a faint heartbeat of a dream in the minds of our Godfathers has blossomed into the lunching experience that may very well define this generation. Whether the history textbooks of tomorrow's classrooms and libraries will include accounts of our trials, tribulations, and amateur food critiques is hard to say, but the memory of our quest will live forever in the hearts, minds, stomachs, and arteries of the six brave young men who formed the food-based fraternity of The LLC.

We conquered club sandwiches, downed drums of diet coke and questioned the legitimacy of every "best," "biggest," and "original" menu item we encountered, all in an effort to discover one simple truth. All our emailing, bill splitting and crisis aversion have led us to this moment. Of the 16 restaurants only one can be the best. It is time to crown a Loop Lunch Club Champion...on December 17th.

The Bracket:

finally, a chance to use my business minor PowerPoint skills.

This is your chance to be an LLC superstar! Fill out your bracket today and enter to win a chance to join  The LLC on its victory lunch outing when we return to the Champion restaurant. Send your picks via email, blog post commenting, fax, carrier pigeon, telepathy, etc. Obviously we have no system in place.

Cellar's Market

"What the caterpillar calls the end the rest of the world calls a butterfly." - Lao Tzu

The final meeting of The LLC took place this past week at Cellar's Market at 141 W Jackson inside The Chicago Board of Trade.  Although it was the 16th and ultimate stop on our journey through the loop, its completion marks the beginning of the real excitement. The Loop Lunch Caterpillar will now wrap itself in a cocoon of cold cuts, allowing the nutrients of the last few months to fuel our hibernation, only to emerge as a butterfly of bracketology when all six members gather to decide on a champion.

I hope this is the worst picture I ever post. 

Before the bracket is revealed let's take a moment to review our last selection, Cellar's Market. Selected by "Crisis" Chris and Nick "Northbound" Nikitas, the group originally met without the Ofman brothers while we were enjoying a typical vacation of golf and booze.  Only once on our Ofmans only outing (not many sentences begin with 7 O words) to Cellar's did I miss the other members of The LLC as nobody was willing to exercise a call option on my pickle, leaving it untouched on my plate.

I entered Cellar's with an extremely high interest rate in eating lunch but since the market is a food court I struggled to decide where to invest my appetite. As I exchanged my options in my mind regulars sped by to various counters where staff recognized them, leading to extremely illegal insider lunching. Not wanting to spend mad money I hedged my bets and ordered a turkey club. Some of the side dishes weren't ready to go so I purchased french fry futures and approached the register. I counted out my singles slowly as the cashier waited for my bills to mature.

Buy Low, Sell High, Eat Lunch

In the review of Jason's Deli I expressed great joy in how their turkey club was small enough to bite into yet big enough to fill me up. Cellar's club was too big for bites, but with big mouthfuls comes big flavor. Both the sandwich and the fresh fries didn't disappoint and were made on the spot with great haste.  Dan, however, was less satisfied with his meal. "It's pretty tasty," he said as he half heartedly stomached his half chicken, "but it's no Boston Market." It's important for the reader's perspective to understand that Dan's feelings towards Boston Market are based in a deep seeded childhood fixation not unlike that between Crisis Chris and McDonalds' french fries. Dan went on to explain that his GDP (gravy drenched potatoes) were too greasy.

By meals end I had experienced a fair amount of volatility in my feelings towards Cellar's.  The market continuously fluctuated between good food and small problems. These included a booth that forced us into highly upright, aggressively ergonomic postures, plastic silverware that had Dan visibly frustrated, and small water glasses that required self-refills. That last one lends itself well to a liquidity joke, but I'm beginning to feel greatly depressed with all these stock market puns.

Me, still wearing my Ray Ramano halloween costume, successfully appease Dan's request that I put a picture of myself looking stupid on the internet instead of him for a change.

We were just about ready to bailout, the derivative bites of our meals resting on the porcelain dishes, when I noticed a few members of the SEC (salad eating community) taking a nearby table.  The LLC members not in attendance had recommended the salads but we didn't heed the tip, and now I regret it. The salads looked great and were healthy, and we all know healthy foods pay dividends later in life.

Cellar's Notes:

• I asked Dan to help me churn out stock market pun material. Several minutes later he said, with as much enthusiasm as I've seen from him in years, "Ooooh! Ooooh! Ooooh!...Fat Cats!"

LLC TOURNAMENT NEWS:

The LLC Tournament bracket has been set. Each first round match was selected at random by Godfathers Rob Anderson, Dan Spira, and Dan Ofman. Stay tuned over the next few days as the matchups will be revealed right here on the blog.  The tournament will take place next month. More information will be disseminated as it becomes available.

B&B Restaurant and Lounge

Come to Homer's BBBQ. The Extra B is for BYOBB.
Bart: What's that extra B for?
Homer: That's a typo.

I got the feeling of being on set at McDowell's
from Coming to America

There were plenty of extra B's to go around this week when The LLC met for their penultimate lunch at B&B Restaurant at 127 S State.  Short for Beef and Brandy, B&B is a long-standing loop fixture, serving up diner style meals since 1967. For 44 years B&B has provided quality food and service to Chicago's downtown workforce, and in that 44 years they still haven't settled on an interior decorator nor hung a single picture on the walls. The diner's entrance was a halloween shrine that nearly spooked Dan Spira out the door, however, beyond the frightening false front the dining area was a drab, somber place with ceilings that would prove problematic for the taller members of The LLC.

The LLC, for the first time in fifteen weeks, had perfect attendance at B&B. We were all set to finally use our magical LLC rings to summon the secret powers of Captain Lunch but felt it would be inappropriate to do so in front of guests Sam Ruderman and Andrew Holzman. "I'm a former fat person," Ruderman appealed to the group in the hope of being respected as a food expert.  It seems he failed to recognize the correlation between girth and food expertise is a direct one, which is why you should always pick the largest contestant to win on Chopped.

The LLC, In order of height and job satisfaction-
From left, Nick Nikitas, Crisis Hartemayer, Rob Anderson,
Dan Spira, Dan Ofman, and Sam Ofman

What B&B lacked in ambiance it made up for in enthusiasm. Our waiter Dave was as animated as a Pixar film and equally delightful, providing service that kids and parents could enjoy again and again. Diet Cokes, a staple of an LLC meal, were served with lemon and lime wedges on each glass and Dave was quick to set down pitchers of cola and water for refills. Sandwiches were called "slammin" and each of us, "pal". The brightness of Dave's smile reflected off the barren walls like the winter sun bouncing off a meadow following the first December snow. Gratuity may been included on the check for 18%, but my personal gratitude includes 100% of my heart.

I took advantage of the all day breakfast and ordered the Gipsy Skillet. Where I come from we spell Gypsy with two Y's, but for accuracy's sake I'll stick with the menu spelling. Normally I regret skillets because they're usually far too greasy and I feel ill before I feel full.  This one didn't have a puddle of grease beneath the food and the balance between the eggs, potatoes and other fixings made each bite flavorful.  Most of The LLC opted for lunch, which I attribute to their having day jobs and thus eating breakfast well before 1 PM.

I wish I were eating it right now

"I love ketchup," said Crisis Chris Hartemayer. Poor cell phone reception played a key role in the lack of work related crises for Chris this week. "These are schizophrenic fries," he continued, "they're a weird hybrid of steak fries and McDonald's fries." Dedicated blog readers (I know you exist, we're almost at 1000 views) may recall Chris is a strong advocate of the McDonald's French fry.

I can almost smell that cool,
salty pacific breeze.

"I have low fry standards," said an agreeable Dan Spira who by this point had finally caught his breath after the initial horror he experienced when he saw the black and orange streamers by the front register.  The california style burger (left) was a popular order and several LLCers vouched for Dave's choice of the word "slammin" to describe the sandwich.  Only one small crisis detracted from Chris's experience with his lunch: a wayward bun bag twisty tie fastener had found its way to the back of his bottom bun. "I never would have found it if I didn't reorganize my fries," Chris said, further strengthening my growing sense that there is an unnatural relationship between Crisis Chris and French fries.

"I see a lot of clean plates today," observed Dan Ofman, pleased with his third diner selection. He would later tell me he planned on returning to Pittsfield Cafe in the near future, further strengthening my growing sense that there is an unnatural relationship between Dan "Big Baby" Ofman and all day breakfasts.

B&B Notes:

• Turns out I didn't use the word Gipsy again.
• The Downstairs bar and game room sounded more fun than it looked.
• No basket of bread was provided, but 2 varieties of hot sauce were.
• Slight credit crisis from Rob resulted in some flustered un-crumpling of the "Merchant's Copy".

Frontera Fresco

"Do you have anything besides Mexican food?" - Dusty Bottoms, The Three Amigos

Second week in a row we get a view from above!

Christmas came early for The LLC this week at Frontera Fresco at 111 S State.  Call me old fashioned, but the only October spirits I want to see are either the evil halloween kind or pumpkin spiced hard liquor, not the Christmas variety. But alas, a jolly and somewhat elfish looking Dan Spira selected a restaurant for The LLC's 14th meeting on the 7th floor of a Macy's department store, that, in keeping with true holiday values was already pedaling their crap alongside artificial pine trees beneath the din of 1930's big band holiday classics.

At the center of this pre-Christmas hyper-capitalist environment is chef Rick Bayliss's Mexican lunch spot Frontera Fresco, a somewhat quicker paced brand extension of the celebrity chef's popular Frontera Grill. At first glance I took the sleek modern curvature, famous name attachment, and lack of burritos on the menu as shallow attempts to class up another Baja Fresh/Chipotle knockoff in a Macy's foodcourt. But was I too quick to judge...

Waiting for the final LLC members to arrive the line at Frontera seemed to grow longer without any forward progress. It was a physical representation of my job search, in so much as both make little visible progress yet I know at the end of each I'll be able to eat.  Making his second guest appearance with The LLC was amateur chef and devout Food Network viewer Steve Lake, who arrived last and immediately spilled a salt shaker. Thus the crisis void left behind by an absent Chris Hartemayer was filled. After seeing a picture of the man Steve asked, "Is Rick Bayliss Mexican?"

Rick Bayliss, seen here preparing his secret ingredient, is obviously not Mexican

"I don't know his background," answered Nick Nikitas, whose portion of tacos looked to be as filling as the ten dollar bill he traded for them. "But he knows how to cook the food." While Nick may not be able to differentiate between a lotus root and a radish he sure can point out a tasty Mexican lunch when he sees one. And when he eats one.

There was a highly unsanitary couple
making out in this line at one point.

I ordered the grilled steak huarache, a Mexican flatbread dish with beans, mushrooms and steak liberally topped off with lettuce and a dusting of cheese. It was fantastic. The bread maintained its crispness and supported the savory blend above it while the lettuce offered a cool, refreshing balance to the each bite. Despite anticipating the huarache would be insufficient in quelling my appetite I found myself full and happy by meal's end.

Wow, this picture actually came out pretty good.
Does justice to the taste.

"This place is going to get high marks from me," said Dan Ofman, who planned on taking the afternoon off due to a 'can't put it down' crisis with a dragon tattoo. "I'm glad I know about it." Ofman, a man who probably wasn't the best overall athlete in his graduating class, was eager to return to the food court that he described as being, "so clean."  Across the table Dan Spira's order of tortilla soup was steaming and appeared delicious, though it required an extra ten minutes to prepare.

As the meal drew to a close Steve Lake, a life time hockey brute carrying about 150% of my body weight on his beastly frame, announced that he was "scared of (S)Am." As much as I'd like to believe he was referring to my intimidating physical presence and blade like, razor sharp martial arts skills it's more likely he feared my ability to zing him in this blog as part of my ongoing mean streak. After all, the blog is mightier.

Frontera Notes:

• Absence of Rob Anderson and Crisis Chris
• Chips per dollar ratio was weak
• My tray was impractically convex, making my walk to the table a hellish trek in which my lunch flashed before my eyes multiple times
• Beers were available at 'market price'. Are you kidding me? 

Kamehachi Cafe

"Am I eating chicken or tuna?" - Jessica Simpson

Well Jess, if you had been dining with The LLC at Kamehachi Cafe at 311 S Wacker you were probably eating a bit of both. The initial outing of The LLC's accelerated schedule was Rob Anderson's third and final selection.  The cafe is an express offshoot of the original Kamehachi, an Old Town landmark that, having been established in 1967, claims to be Chicago's first sushi bar.  Like the sushi it serves the cafe is tightly compacted and efficiently built, with space enough for only two tables and a small line to form.  The counter houses a small display case for prepackaged sushi, prompting Rob to inquire of The LLC's resident produce expert and amateur botanist Nick Nikitas, "What do you think that red thing that looks like a tomato is?"  After carefully considering the variable vegetable with a learned eye Nick ventured, "maybe a radish?"

"It's a lotus root," the cashier corrected.  This was the moment my esteem for Nick's vegetable expertise diminished beyond the point of noteworthiness. Within minutes we all received our orders and when I asked for a cup of water the man behind the counter produced two prearranged cups with straws, lids, and ice. Unfortunately when we requested two more his supply had been exhausted, but still a good effort.

More than ample lighting

Real trees grow outdoors

We agreed to take our collection of teriyaki rice bowls, miso soups, and sushi out of the cafe and into one of the building's many communal dining areas. If ever The LLC made a good decision, it was this one. Our destination was the central atrium, an amphitheater that was half Crystal Palace and half Laguna Beach, lined by palm trees and watched over by a statue of a man kneeling atop a fountain. Initially we believed this man to be smiling and bathing with the use of a large canvas bag, though by meals end we decided he was a wounded old man grimacing and showering himself with cheap wine, possibly enjoying a one-man game of 'slap the bag'.

Art is meant for interpretation, or in our case, misinterpretation

"These are some really cool fake trees," said an awestruck Dan Ofman before shaming the Ofman name by sincerely adding, "...or are they real?"

"No. They're fake," Rob said, quickly discrediting any further argument and familial embarrassment Dan may have offered up.

The rice bowls were delicious, well priced and appropriately portioned for a quick lunch. The only element that detracts from their overall quality is that the meat, be it chicken or beef, was cut in chunks that would benefit from a Kirstie Alley style size reduction. Using the plastic spoon provided I struggled to get a full flavored taste of the miso soup. It was only after a fellow LLCer advised me to try a Dan Ofman vacuum mouth technique to inhale it straight our of the bowl that I was able to experience its full flavored potency, if only for a moment.

I forgot to take pictures at the beginning so try to imagine this looking much more appetizing

In the end the LLC was thoroughly satisfied with the quality and flavor of Kamehachi's products. "I'm impressed with the overall taste," Said Nikitas, who shared two varieties of sushi rolls with Rob along with their rice bowls.

"I prefer sushi with rice on the outside as opposed to seaweed," Rob said, motioning towards the rolls with his chopstick, "for the texture."

"And for the texture, too," Nikitas added, showcasing a total lack of conversational prowess and listening skills that his future Milwaukee employer is most likely ignorant of.

Kamehachi Notes:

• Absence of Dan Spira and Crisis Chris
• Table space was a factor, as individually packaged meal components required a great amount of surface area
• I wore a suit
• No free ice cream

Jason's Deli

"Without ice cream, there would be darkness and chaos." - Don Kardong

And on the 12th week, out of the darkness and chaos that was The LLC, Jason's Deli said, "Let there be ice cream!" The national chain's new loop location at 195 N Dearborn was my selection for this week's meeting, and I was quite pleased with the sandwich shop that's famous for offering free soft serve with every meal.

"Ice cream is exquisite - what a pity
it isn't illegal." - Voltaire

While the ice cream service was soft the staff's service was anything but, as at one time I was able to count 28 employees from my seated vantage point. The experience at Jason's is like dining in a post recession utopia where jobs and ice cream abound. Jason's benefits from a great location that is only a half block from every el line in the loop. It's like the pot of gold at the end of the CTA rainbow, only instead of gold the pot is filled with chocolate/vanilla swirl. Gold and ice cream being the only commodities remaining in the market that hold value make it a pretty even tradeoff.

My Deli Club was served with a fork.
What could I use it for?

For the single members of The LLC Jason's could have been a great place to meet young women, if not for the fact that not one of us so much as glanced at the salad bar a single time. However, I did overhear a woman sitting behind us comment about her panini and side salad, "This could be my new favorite place!" She then continued, "And look at that adorable young man, I bet he writes a fantastic blog."

After ordering we were given Table Trackers that allowed our staff to keep tabs on our location throughout the restaurant. These devices were new to me and I feared they contained the technology to steal my identity, or worse, subscribe me to Jason's email fan club.  thankfully the technophobes of The LLC were appeased by an incredibly simple explanation and we were able to eat lunch knowing both our inboxes and sandwiches would be free of spam.

General restaurant etiquette states that a fountain drink is bottomless and may be refilled by the costumer at any time. Jason's took it one step further as staff came by to individually put in the footwork on fountain drink refills. Beyond that they provide a sizable, solidly constructed glass for water instead of the inadequate Styrofoam alternative.

My Deli Club had two qualities that would bring me back to Jason's. For one, it tasted great. More importantly it was properly proportioned for a human mouth to take in. Too often one encounters a club sandwich that simply isn't fit for comfortable consumption.  Unlike many Americans today who would happily bite off more than they can chew (see below), I'd rather bite off slightly less than my maximum mouthful and avoid the aching post lunch mandible that comes with over extension.

Rob prepares to eat my weight in muffaletta

Across the table things became slightly muffled while I was enjoying my sensible bites. A complex joint muffaletta order between Rob Anderson and Dan Ofman was bungled miserably due to Dan's extreme distaste for olives. "I'll tell you the best part of a muffaletta," said Rob as Nick Nikitas shoveled stray bits of pastrami atop his potato chip in what must have been a delicious combination of savory and salty flavors. "It's the sesame seeds, I love sesame seeds."

Crisis Chris, however, believes the olive mix topping is the best part, explaining, "It's what makes it a muffaletta."

By the time The LLC had finished eating the line had extended from counter to door, creating a human barricade between us and our free ice cream. It turns out human barricades are friendly and accommodating and we passed through it easily and proceeded to each use a unique technique while operating the soft serve dispenser. Congregating outside, Dan Ofman, always eager to pose a hypothetical involving over/unders, expressed concern over how many "ice cream casualties" we would suffer on the walk back to work. "None," Rob answered quickly, "we are adults." Dan then drooled on his sweatshirt.

I'd like to conclude this week's entry by congratulating Nick Nikitas on accepting a new job that will soon take him to Milwaukee. With this unforeseen career change comes a scheduling crisis for The LLC that will result in an accelerated final four weeks. So hold on to your hats folks, and keep checking in for more Pulitzer worthy reviews!

Jason's Notes:

• Absence of Dan Spira, 10 minute crisis text from Chris
• Upon arrival Chris announced approval of the quality of paper stock used in the menus
• Rob's display of quickness and accuracy when winning the pickle trivia will never be equaled
• Have I mentioned the free ice cream?

Delmonico

"Men were keeling over all around me.  I can still hear the retching, screaming...I sent sixteen of my own men to the latrines that night." - Frank Costanza, Incheon, Korea 1950.

"Sadder than destitution, sadder than a beggar is the man who eats alone in public. Nothing more contradicts the laws of man or beast, for animals always do each other the honor of sharing or disputing each other's food." - Jean Baurdrillard

For the Robert Frost fans...

Two roads diverged at a busy intersection,

And unsure if I should travel both,

Delmonico. In all its glory.

And be one lunch clubber long I stood,

And looked down one as far as I could,

To where the el bent in the construction zone.

Then took the other, east down Lake,

After trusting in my iPhone's claim,

For in the rain with no proper wear,

Though underneath the train tracks there,

I rushed across the biking lane.

And on that morning equally lay,

The leaves were wet and trodden black,

Oh, I kept the bibimbap for another day,

knowing how buffet leads on to buffet, 

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a side,

Of soup laid out for ages hence;

Two roads diverged in the loop, and I-

I took the one towards Delmonico,

And that has made all the difference.

The Delmonico Illinois Center at 233 N Michigan Ave played host to the 11th meeting of The LLC this past Tuesday. Two days later I patronized the oddly named Korean buffet and simultaneously contradicted the laws of man and beast while following the strict directives of Crisis Chris Hartemayer.  On Tuesday Chris maintained an authoritative dictatorship over the group, demonstrating the leadership qualities of a man influenced equally by Korean government and cuisine. A man who knows how to lead in times of crisis.

By withholding all information concerning this week's lunch Chris kept The LLC guessing until the minute he led the group through the labyrinth of hallways leading to Delmonico.  Upon arrival he demanded not only that everybody order a bibimbap stone pot meal but also directed the group in how to properly eat it.  Even my AWOL status couldn't stop him from extending his grasp over my eating technique, leaving me no choice but to save half of my soup to pour over the stuck on remains of rice.

The element of mystery Chris cultivated around this LLC meeting didn't end with the secret location or restaurant name. In fact, it continued throughout the meal and will likely never conclude for even after finding the place and eating there I have no idea how to find it nor what I had eaten.  The contents of a bibimbap were listed as: Steamed rice, sauteed vegetables, a fried egg, and choice of meat or chicken. I hardly recall any of those flavors. Half way through my hot mess of food I elected to add the red paste that was served alongside it.  From that point on it tasted heavily of red paste.

Two weeks in a row I've featured a picture of soup with an out of place egg. There was a hair in the yolk.

My experience at Delmonico, though lonesome, was actually quite relaxing. I, the weary traveler, came in out of the rain and was welcomed with two bowls of steaming, somewhat identifiable food.  Although I can't describe the flavor in much detail I can say that I enjoyed it and didn't feel overly heavy on the equally confusing walk back to the train.  Despite an alarming number of "Not responsible for lost or stolen articles" signs I still felt safe dining alone in the cafeteria setting and found the staff to be friendly and helpful.  The buffet seemed like a valid option as far as buffets go, and in the event that fate ever returns me to Delmonico (for my spatial memory would be unable to) I would be inclined to try it. Afterall, you know the expression, "if you've had one bibimbap you've had 'em all."

Had I attended the meeting with the other members of The LLC I imagine Dan Spira would have had this to say: "It's good...but I wish there were more meat."

Delmonico Notes:

• Walking through the rain I was made aware of the difference between 'water resistant' and 'water proof' as my jacket's resistance to water was as futile as the Miami Dolphins' resistance to being terrible.
• Two plaid clad hipsters were there discussing how ironic it was for them to be there.

Monk's Pub

"I can think. I can wait. I can fast." - Siddhartha

After consuming a massive cheeseburger at Monk's Pub at 205 W Lake I think I can easily wait until sundown tomorrow before breaking my fast.  Monk's was Nick Nikitas's choice as the tenth meeting spot for The LLC. Not unlike Nick's previous pick, Perry's Deli, Monk's offered exorbitant portions and grandiose self-proclamations, claiming their burgers were the "Best of Chicago." But would The LLC judge them to be worthy of such a title?

Following some brief confusion concerning unnecessary reservations that in all likelihood were never made and most certainly were not held the knights of The LLC took their seats at a round table.  The wall opposite us held a large bookshelf stocked with vintage books that at first were believed to be props but to the surprise of Chris Hartemayer were indeed quite real.  We sat in the glow of specially designed Schlitz lighting fixtures that illuminated the dusty barrels and halloween decorations that surrounded the rafters.  Halloween, though normally not a holiday I associate with the religion and piety of monks, was in full swing at the pub as small ghosts were hung throughout the establishment, haunting cunstomers with their cold, wicked, lifeless eyes.

The Monastery

Monk's Pub was designed to resemble an actual monastery where the owner spent a blissful childhood summer. The overall effect is more Medieval Times than Westminster Abbey. There was a major disconnect somewhere between the backdrop of asceticism, the spiritual practice of self-denial and foregoing materialistic goals, set against the music of Ke$ha, a sex symbol pop star who can't even endorse her million dollar checks without using a profit-centric signature.

Normally when one orders a Diet Coke at a restaurant that serves Pepsi the waitress will say, "Is Pepsi ok?" and the customer will say, "Of Course!" Diet Coke drinkers at our table received no such disclaimer while ordering and were shocked to discover they had been served Diet RC Cola.  Sure, they got free refills...but who wants a refill of Diet RC Cola? Needless to say the service at Monk's left much to be desired, first and foremost silverware.  It was Crisis Chris himself who solved the no forks crisis by resourcefully using his straw to stab a boneless buffalo wing (Dedicated readers will recognize that I could have aptly referred to these wings as "buffalo tenders").

I can't believe he ate the whole thing.

Although we all tried a "Best of Chicago" burger, we managed to order a variety of styles. Chris ordered the Cajun Burger, stating, "I want a little spice in my meal." Also on our table was Dan Spira's California Burger with a side of curly fries that he was "pretty happy with." Dan Ofman's unprecendented decision to try the split pea soup may have been the second bravest act I've ever seen him perform. Followed by the bravest, eating it.

Chris Hartemayer expressed apparent disappointment in the quality of his french fries by comparing them to those of McDonald's. Later, after lamenting the lack of spice in his meal he clarified, "The fries are good...I like McDonald's fries."

When asked if he believed his burger was the best in Chicago Dan Spira briefly stopped emailing to respond pointedly, "Probably not." He's right, they probably aren't the best in the city but they are good enough to be in the discussion. However, as evidenced by the photo below, I'm not sure if Dan Spira had ever eaten a hamburger before in his life.

Most people prefer to start at one side and work their way to the other

Monk's Notes:

• Rob Anderson should heed the warning of Comic Book Guy: "Oh, loneliness and cheeseburgers are a dangerous mix" when he visits Monk's alone after missing this outing.
• CNN instead of ESPN. Best headline: "Florida to create jobs by lifting ban on dwarf tossing"
• Yet another financial crisis for Chris. This one not solved by straw poking.

The Marquette Inn

"Quality in a service or product is not what you put into it. It is what the client or customer gets out of it." - Peter Drucker

Using Drucker's criteria one could say The Marquette Inn at 60 W Adams is truly a high quality loop lunch option. Using a criteria based on nutritional value and taste...not so much. The ninth LLC selection, chosen by Dan "Big Baby" Ofman, was a welcoming and friendly hybrid of a Greek diner and an American sports bar. The  decor seamlessly transitioned from the bright lights of neon beer signs to the sepia toned art deco paintings of 1930s Chicago public transportation vehicles. When I woke up that morning I had never been to a restaurant that displayed boxes of cheerios on one wall and bottles of Beefeater gin on the other. I have now. Nothing says convenience like being able to combine your nightcap with your morning meal. At The Marquette Inn you can wash down your Rueben with Russian dressing on white with a white Russian and my Uncle Rueben.

I'd like to order the Johnnie Walker Blue plate special

Dan Ofman and I arrived early and were greeted by two hosts.  I would be shocked if these men didn't do seasonal work as a Greek mall Santa and elf duo at some sort of present day agora.  After originally being told to stand and wait the 30 minutes until the rest of The LLC arrived the agreed to let us sit at the bar.  The specials were "slippery nipple shots" and "apple mantinis". We sipped our morning coffee while our neighbors downed their morning Miller Lite. The counter top was littered with fliers advertising that night's Fall Bash featuring "drinks, drinks, and more drinks" as well as the Greco-Techno beats of DJ Lena. Our bartender/waitress assured us it would be a good time and I'm more than comfortable taking her word for it. The Elf told us our table was ready.  It was at this point that things got serious.

Before settling at the table we had already been served complimentary plates of gyro meat and tzatziki. "They are all my cousins!" Our jovial European suit donning Santa beamed at our waitress before turning back towards the smiling faces of The LLC, "Belly dancers are on the way!" He then disappeared up the chimney leaving behind a smiling Dan Spira who, through his tears and wide-eyed boyish laughter managed to affectionately yell after him, "#1 in customer service!"

While placing our orders the waitress revealed another bombshell...Free Soup! And three different choices! A Greek Santa Rosh Hashanah miracle! Between the gyro meat, soup, and actual meals we had a lot of food on our hands.  Unfortunately quantity doesn't equate quality. "There's nothing outstanding," said Rob Anderson, sporting a stylish new haircut, "but there is a lot of it."

"The roast beef isn't as good as Pittsfield's," echoed Nick Nikitas, "It's ok, but it's messy."

It didn't surprise me at all that The Marquette Inn was picked by Dan Ofman, who had cleared his plate for the ninth consecutive week.  Try convincing this baby that quality is more important than quantity...

Attention single ladies of Chicago! Looking for a man to help produce offspring like this? Look no further!

Overall we enjoyed a great experience and a mediocre meal at The Marquette Inn. Remember folks, the best team doesn't always win the game.  With all the magic of Santa, the high holidays and beer on tap this fairytale diner might just make a Cinderella run come bracket time.

Marquette Notes:

• Despite reporting availability for Friday there was an unexplained absence of Crisis Chris Hartemayer.
• Upon exiting there was a general agreement as to the eventual ranking The Marquette Inn would receive on Dan's rating scale under the category: How do I feel afterwards.

Pastoral

"The poets have been mysteriously silent on the subject of cheese." - G.K. Chesterton

Perhaps the poets simply lacked a muse as inspiring as the arrangement of cheeses offered by Pastoral at 53 W Lake. Dan Spira's selection for The LLC's eight meeting, the quaint artisan cheese and bread shop, was a welcome change of pace for the group.  "This does have a European flair to it," said Nick Nikitas, aptly describing the single table store lined by bottles of wine, fresh baked bread and organic preserves. If not for the juxtaposition of the all 80's pop soundtrack one could easily have mistaken Pastoral for Positano. I arrived half way through "Take on me" and left with "Love is a battlefield" stuck in my head.

They had olives to sample, but not any of these cheeses.

If you're looking for a sandwich atmosphere for an NFL Sunday I recommend Perry's Deli. If you're looking for a sandwich atmosphere for some Frasier reruns I recommend Pastoral.  That being said, Pastoral does offer free beer and wine tasting events that both John Madden and Kelsey Grammer could enjoy.  Being only partially employed and less than a year removed from college I came dangerously close to ordering a morning beer, but having just brushed my teeth it seemed especially unappetizing.

The menu at Pastoral is almost as difficult to decipher as the check from The LLC's earlier trip to The Pittsfield Cafe. Most sandwich options had a minimum of one word that I will simply never know the meaning of but will always assume could be replaced by 'cheese'. I chose not to go for the add-ons, not because I don't like them, but mainly because I wasn't sure if "quince and apple fig black tea spread" goes well with a BLT. They also offer whole grain mustard. I wonder how that works.

At the risk of sounding like a sandwich art elitist I simply can no longer think of the work produced by Subway employees as art.  A Subway sandwich is like a caricature when compared to the well crafted edible art form that is the Pastoral Bacon Lettuce Tomato Avocado.  With each bite more bits of bacon would fall and collect in a salted and cured pile of prosciutto. It was nice having those to look forward to. I made the wise decision to "pastoralize" my lunch. It turns out that meant I added drinks, chips and a cookie. It didn't mean the sandwich was blessed by an ordained Christian leader.  The rest of The LLC didn't seem quite as taken with their lunch experience.

I thought the bread was the best part.

"Everything tastes different," said Dan Ofman as he grimmaced at his San Pellegrino, "it's like it's...of better quality."  It's important to remember that Dan has a caricature in his bedroom of his adolescent self knocking a dinger out of Comiskey Park and is a regular Subway consumer. He's also a Nicholas Cage fan. Some people don't understand art.

A guest of The LLC and hopeful 'Chopped' contestant, Steve Lake, had this to offer: "The bread is too hard, it hurts my fragile mouth."

Echoing this sentiment was another guest, Nick's fiance Liza Wadlington, who thought her sandwich was "awkward to eat." Perhaps this is because she never took hers out of it's original casing.  I welcome the challenge of hard bread and appreciate the animalistic ripping of my food to shreds with my teeth.

The post meal silence was broken by none other than Dan Spira, who declared his selection a success.  "Very tasty," he exclaimed, with both an inflated stomach and sense of self worth, "good choice by me."

Yes, Dan. Good choice.

Pastoral Notes:

• There was an expected absence of Rob Anderson and a last minute cancellation from Crisis Chris.
• Dan Ofman was worried his chair would collapse beneath him.
• I'd like to print a retraction for last week's post. I've been told Kirstie Alley has once again dropped some weight. Sorry Kirstie.

Luke's

"The tradition of Italian cooking is that of the matriarch." - Mario Batali

A look at Luke's

It's hard to argue with the man who owns Iron Chef's highest winning percentage (79.2%), but how could any female, Italian or otherwise, be the creator of the Italian beef sandwich? This sandwich epitomizes masculine cuisine, maximizing protein and simplicity while literally dripping with testosterone.  Batali would most likely respond by telling me I'm an idiot and that the Italian beef sandwich originated in 1930's Chicago.  The LLC is also a Chicago institution, which explains why Rob decided on Luke's at 215 W Jackson as the spot for our 7th meeting.

The Hawk, taking me under his wing

I arrived about fifteen minutes late to this week's meeting on account of a run in with the legendary voice of the White Sox and inventor of the batting glove Ken "The Hawk" Harrelson.  After hearing the Hawk's sweet, reassuring voice regale me with stories of baseball's golden age I found myself surrounded by it in the 1950's soda shop decor of Luke's.  The interior designer for Luke's most likely moonlights as the director of marketing for Coca-cola as the walls are covered in vintage signs and logos appear on every stool. Between all that and the red and white picnic tablecloths it felt like dining inside a gigantic peppermint.  Giant things aren't hard to come by at Luke's.  In any direction diners can marvel at the enormous novelty condiments hanging from the ceiling, most likely taken from Kirstie Alley's fridge. (A cheap shot, I know.  She was #1 in searching "fat celebrities" on google. Personally I think she's still got it.)

Well...her hair looks nice

Like most places with a Vienna Beef sign in the window Luke's was in violation of its maximum occupancy of 63.  It's understandable; they offer a good quality meal and a very reasonable price.  The menu includes everything from pastas to salads to burgers and desserts.  Rob and Dan Ofman put both their heads and stomachs together and decided to split a calzone, beef sandwich, and sausage. While none were overly impressive they deemed them all adequate.  The calzone, however, "didn't taste fresh" according to Dan.  He did go on to assure me that if more of it were available he would eagerly continue shoveling into his face like the Italian bambino he is at heart.

Spira had a beef with his Italian beef

Spira and I opted for the Italian beef.  I liked mine, but not enough to Facebook like it.  The bread left much to be desired but for the price and quickness it's a good deal. Spira didn't think quite as highly of it.  "It's decisively not as good as Portillo's," he said over the two unused ketchup containers he filled for no apparent reason. Honestly, I don't think Spira should be considered an authority on Italian beef considering how he neglected to order peppers, giardiniera, or any other topping on his sandwich. My belief is that had he grown up on Luke's, he'd find it "decisively" better than Portillo's.  I know I'm being hard on Spira, but it's just an effort to take his mind off the impossibly pressure packed pick he has to make for next week's meeting. Good luck buddy! Better not let us down...

Luke's Notes:

• I'd rather have McDonald's fries, which are worse than Berghoff chips, than Luke's fries.
• Absence of Nick Nikitas and Crisis Chris seriously detracted from the experience/average height of the group.
• The most memorable discussion topic revolved around what qualifies a chicken dish as being "tenders." Consensus: Boneless 

Saigon Sisters

"In food, as in death, we feel the essential brotherhood of man"- Vietnamese Proverb

Food, not death, brought the brotherhood of The Loop Lunch Club together this week for our sixth meeting at Saigon Sisters' 567 W Lake location. Members of the Loop Lunch Platoon had to march, crawl, and cab their way through the urban jungle, braving 90 degree temperatures to protect their right to a midday meal.  Rob Anderson and Dan Spira arrived first with their cell phones, wallets, and appetites. These were The Things They Carried.  We were set to ship out at noon, but Nick Nikitas was missing in action and Chris Hartemayer had been captured as a prisoner of crisis. Sure, we had all heard horror stories of life in Vietnamese restaurants, but it wasn't until I enlisted The LLC for Saigon Sisters that the myths became our reality.

I made this week's selection based on a friend's recommendation. I had never been to Saigon Sisters but I envisioned it as a rundown Vietnamese tent with full chickens hanging on hooks and various species of Southeast Asian rodents scurrying about. I prepared myself for Apocalypse Now or the endless monsoon of Forrest Gump. Instead I found a clean, modern downtown restaurant as innocent as Operation Dumbo Drop and as high spirited as Good Morning, Vietnam.  With air conditioning, hot and cold running water, and what Spira described as a "surprisingly clean" restroom Saigon Sisters had all the amenities one would expect to find at the Hanoi Hilton.

The house specialty is banh mi, a French influenced Vietnamese sub sandwich. The floor to ceiling chalkboard menu, which was limited in selection but physically enormous, also offered salads, soups, rice bowls and banh bao (Burrito : Taco :: Banh mi : Banh bao).  "The rice bowl caught my eye," said Spira (below, left), "because it was more in line with my expectations." One thing Spira would learn about being in 'Nam: expect the unexpected.

Spira reads up on rice bowls and Rob prepares to deal a left handed Rambo chop to an innocent customer

None of us exhibited Uncommon Valor when it came time to order. Both Ofmans, as well as Spira and Nakitas (perfect names for a show on TNT) ordered the pork belly banh mi while Rob opted for "The VBQ," just as i predicted he would prior to his arrival. My first bite was on the section of sandwich with the highest concentration of jalapeno.  After recovering sensation on my tongue I found my banh mi tasted great and was only improved upon by the array of available sauces. Hoisin, Sriracha, and an unmarked bottle of red mystery sauce made each bite a unique and flavorful experience. "Quite good," (Lieutenant) Dan Ofman said between inhalation of sandwich halves, "hot fresh bread...can't get enough pork!"

Despite only being there for a short time we had already developed a first name basis with the staff. They knew us because we gave them our names and I thought it was safe, though politically incorrect to call them Charlie. "Hey Dan," Charlie said reaching over the counter with banh mi in hand, "can you pass this to Rob?"

Bobbo's Banh Bao

If we came for the banh mi, we stayed for the banh bao. These dough wrapped Vietnamese sliders were particularly well received by Rob, who expressed an interest in ordering multiple banh bao in place of a banh mi. It would be like a Vietnamese Dollar menu, only their currency is called the Dong. I would hesitate to order off the Dong menu.

Our tour of duty in 'Nam may not have been as harrowing as others, but I'm proud of my men for surviving it. We crawled through a river of Sriracha and came out clean on the other side. We were soldiers. We ate lunch.

Saigon Notes:

• No green berets were seen, but they are trained to be invisible.
• Complimentary body lotion in the restroom. Slightly odd.
• Some grumbling was heard from the group concerning the extra few blocks of travel. Perhaps they don't realize how brutal my Metra commute is each week.

Heaven on Seven

"The chinese use two brush strokes to write the word 'crisis'. One brush stroke stands for danger; the other for opportunity. In a crisis, be aware of the danger, but recognize the opportunity." - John F. Kennedy


I can't say with absolute certainty that when JFK gave this public address in 1959 Indianapolis that he was speaking directly to Chris Hartemayer, though I am pretty sure he was.  How else can one explain Chris's amazing ability to overcome the the constant crises that riddle his career and home life and turn seemingly insurmountable problems into delicious Cajun lunch outings? Crisis Chris didn't merely evade a self imposed scheduling crisis in organizing The LLC's fifth meeting this week, he faced it head on with the confidence and grace of a man who prevails over crises as often as WBBM radio provides local traffic and weather updates.

I've never been to New Orleans, but I can't imagine it's authentic to have this much Mardi Gras crap on the walls

This week the LLC took a trip down to the bayou and up to the 7th floor of the Garland Building at 111 N Wabash for the Cajun offerings of Heaven on Seven, a colorful and cluttered Louisiana diner hidden high up in the Chicago skyline.  Upon entering we were greeted by a balding host with an insincere smile and a napoleon complex.  This man would later yell at our waitress, a very pleasant young lady who did an excellent job solving the diet coke refill crises that Chris continuously burdened himself with due to an unnatural and unquenchable thirst for 0 calorie refreshment. The restaurant's interior looked exactly as I imagine Stacey King's kitchen pantry looking like if Kyle Korver decided to appease the color commentator's demanding appetite for spice and actually gave him a bottle of hot sauce every time he attempted a three point shot.

I was surprised the bottles were only decorative until I considered expiration dates

Having a Midwestern upbringing in both language skills and culinary tastes made the menu at Heaven on Seven read like a Stephen King cookbook in which every chapter frightens you although you already know it ends in a stomachache.  As a group The LLC seemed to possess a very limited collective knowledge of the Creole food culture.  None of us knew what qualified a sandwich as a po' boy and I'm still unclear on what jambalaya is or how anyone who doesn't worship Satan can eat 'voodoo sauce' before noon and live to tell the tale.

Fittingly, I had my own crisis this week.  After lunch I was headed straight to my first day on a new job, so what could I order off a menu where every item is either 'southern fried' or contains words I don't understand without the assurances that come with carrying a travel sized bottle of Pepto Bismol?  Astonishingly, I opted for the BBQ pulled pork po' boy.  This choice was in part due to alliterative appeal but mainly because it was the only option that wasn't a complete wild card.  I found the po' boy to be exactly like every other sandwich I have eaten. My first bowl of gumbo did not inspire a desire for more gumbo in my life.  My first fried green tomato could very well have been my last.

Oh Boy Po' Boy! I can feel the heart burn already

Without LLC godfathers and quote machines Dan Spira and Rob Anderson in attendance this week's meeting lacked the usual offbeat discussions.  To fill the void we attempted to describe Mr. Spira's personality to our guest diner, a man whose name and origin are unknown to me.  "In four words," began Nick Nikitas, who had clearly used this line before, "more than a gentleman." I chose a more specific description: "Average golfer." In retrospect I could have added, "fantastic celebrity impressionist and deadpan food critic."

While this review may come off as a tad negative, I still very much enjoyed the food, atmosphere, and company while dining at Heaven on Seven.

Heaven on Seven Notes:

• A second "cash only" financial crisis for Chris in only 5 weeks
• Above average accessibility due to 7 fully functional elevators
• They were out of the freshly squeezed lemonade by 11:30
• Upon reaching the street after the meal Dan Ofman, motioning to an alleyway and clutching his gut, had this to say, "I don't need a bathroom, I can just throw up over there."

Perry's Deli

"I thought I had an appetite for destruction, but all I wanted was a club sandwich." - Homer Simpson

Homer comes to this realization at the end of an episode in which he takes cannonball fire to the stomach at a nearly fatal rate.  Lunching at Perry's Deli at 174 N Franklin is like taking cannonball sized club sandwiches to the stomach at a fatal rate.  Perry's, chosen by Nick Nikitas as the fourth of sixteen meeting points, is renowned for having some of the most sizable sandwiches in town, but are they big enough to satisfy The LLC?

I found the metallic spider ventilation system pretty neat

Perry's has an old school feel to it.  Framed head shots and photos of The Three Stooges, Lucille Ball, The Ratpack, and of course, Ditka cover the walls but are disappointingly lacking in autographs.  Sprinkled among the smiling celebrities are warnings concerning the "no cell phone" policy.  The staff enforces this rule through the use a blaring siren that will not stop until the call ended button is pressed and the offending patron is evil eyed by the entire customer base.  The staff does not smile while they sound the alarm, which I twice confused for Rob's ringtone.  The technophobic stance fit well with the choice of programming on the two flat screen televisions: Off.

These men must really hate the alarm, it's pretty loud

The patrons at Perry's Deli were generally older, balder, and more bespectacled than those of the previous three LLC locations.  The line leading to the counter could easily be confused with a casting call for a documentary about the GOP or possibly a police line up of white collar criminals, though the two options aren't necessarily mutually exclusive.

Perry's menu claims their sandwiches are "the biggest and best in Chicago (and maybe even the world)." Dan Spira wasn't convinced, stating, "I doubt it." He then wiped his hands slowly before reiterating with confidence, "I highly doubt it." Perhaps a bigger sandwich can be found somewhere out there, but that's not to say Perry's weren't absolutely massive.  Each colossus required two plates as a foundational support along with four extra durable toothpicks to maintain the structural integrity of its triple decker deliciousness. After consuming only half of mine I blacked out.  When I came to my belt was unbuckled, the second half of my sandwich was encased in saran wrap and I was covered in a cold sweat that smelled suspiciously of coleslaw and russian dressing.

I've seen dogs on the street smaller than this.  Am I supposed to eat it or be eaten by it? Looks like Rob ate all of his in one bite, doesn't it?

"I like the bread," said Anderson as he smiled to Nikitas, acknowledging his top-notch selection.  Nikitas, seated at the head of the table, was clearly having a fantastic day.  Not only had he made a great selection for The LLC but he had also passed the CFA exam and planned to play virtual golf instead of go back to work in the afternoon.  Much like the possible outcomes in a game of "Apples to Apples" the potential for fun in his day was VIRTUALLY LIMITLESS! To use an antiquated phrase, it was Nikitas Time.

Perry's Notes:

• A sign in the door instructed visitors to "pull hard".  No "push hard" sign was necessary upon exiting as anyone who had eaten there could lean their newfound poundage into the door and force it open with ease.
• Absence of Chris "Crisis" Hartemayer due to a crisis.  Special guest appearance by Ryan "The Anti-crisis" Carlsen
• In light of Nick's wonderful day, a heated debate took place over the hypothetical inconsistencies of a real life "Groundhog Day" scenario.

The Pittsfield Cafe

"The diner is everybody's kitchen"- Richard Gutman

By walking through the revolving doors of the Pittsfield Building at 55 E Washington I wasn't merely entering the venue for this week's LLC meeting, I was entering a different plane of existence. Outside I was a typical man of the modern age, slaloming around pedestrians sporting UV protected shades and a humiliating dependency on iPhone powered GPS. Inside I found myself in the dimly lit golden atrium of another era. The home of the Pittsfield Cafe was reminiscent of a 1950's Grand Central Station, or for members of my generation, the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Continuing with the latter analogy, one may say the menu was as dense as Hogwarts: A History, offering page after page of breakfast specials, lunch combinations, and everything from fresh coffee to all day bloody marys.

The cafe itself is a small, Greek influenced sit down diner with a popular carryout service. It seamlessly integrates the old and the new, both in ambience and clientele. Along the walls an alternating pattern of still life paintings and flat screen televisions hang above the business professionals and older greek gentlemen who represent the extreme minority of people who don't look pretentious donning fedoras.

Chris skillfully averts a pre-meal crisis

Gutman was right. Each member of The LLC may as well have been in their own kitchen whipping up whatever they had a taste for. Between the six of us we enjoyed everything from a Caesar wrap to a BBQ pork sandwich to two "build your own" omelets. Dan Ofman experienced the full spectrum of poultry by ordering his omelet with chicken breast. Personally, it seems strange to me to eat chicken and eggs simultaneously. I'll let you form your own opinions on the matter, fair or fowl?

"I've never had pastrami with cheese," Said Dan Spira, slowly nodding his head in approval, "but I like it."

Service was quick and our waitress offered friendly recommendations to help guide us through the multi-volume menu. Refills were both unlimited and unrelenting. The volume of water, coffee, and diet soda that continuously flowed into our glasses was somewhere between the quantity of tears shed by Rob Anderson after the series finale of "Man vs. Beast" and the total perspiration produced by John Daly throughout the opening round of the PGA Championship.

The Greek influence on display in the ancient lettering of the bill.  Good thing there's a Rosetta Stone app

A wonderful experience was had by all at the Pittsfield Cafe.

Pittsfield Notes:

• Billy Joel began playing just as my omelet was placed in front of me. Heaven on Earth.
• Chris "Financial Crisis" Hartemayer couldn't pay for his meal due to a crisis.