Claire Hungerford

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The communal dining room and kitchen at Northwest Mental Health Center has long been a fixture of programming at the clinic. Rosa Torres, who has worked as a clinical therapist at Northwest for 21 years, recalls how busy the kitchen used to be. Many of the clinic’s Psychosocial Rehabilitation and Support (PSR) programs were conducted here, where patients received instruction in meal planning and food preparation. But in recent years the kitchen has been used less and less, since funding for the meals has long since disappeared. Now Torres and her remaining colleagues, who have to wear many hats in their work as therapists and administrators, take turns providing money out-of-pocket for groceries.

Those in Torres’s field use PSR to refer to many of the programs that serve as material and emotional support infrastructure for adults suffering from mental illness–whether chronic or acute. Included in the health center’s PSR offerings are the various group therapy sessions held by clinicians, such as the Spanish-speaking women’s group that Ana Navarro has coordinated for over a decade.

The announcement of Chicago’s 2012 fiscal budget last October sealed the fate of mental health care across Chicago. The city’s outlined plan is to consolidate the clinics—transferring, for example, responsibility for the entire Back of the Yard’s patient population to the Southwest Side’s Greater Lawn Public Health Center. In the context of the prolonged and dramatic decline in mental health resources in Illinois, the measures will prove another painful blow to an already broken system, suffering from a lack of funding and legislative protection, which used to provide some insulation for Illinois’s mentally ill against homelessness and unemployment.

Northwest, which is located in Logan Square, will be merging with the South Side’s Lawndale clinic. Five other clinics will close their doors: Rogers Park, Woodlawn, Auburn Gresham, Beverly-Morgan Park, and Back of the Yards. Chicago will soon be serving upwards of 5,100 patients with a mere six operational clinics—a third as many as were open at the start of Richard M. Daley’s tenure. Since 2009 funding has seen a 36 percent reduction, a cumulative loss of $33.5 million.

The current mental health system has its origin in the Community Mental Health Services Act of 1963 (CMHA), signed into law by President Kennedy. CMHA called for the closure of state hospitals, while providing funding for mental health care at a local level through federal grants. With federal support, community health centers were able to serve as effective primary care providers for the mentally ill. This legislation was part of a national shift—both in public opinion and the field of healthcare—away from health policy that saw inpatient and institutionalized care as the best method of treating mental illness.

Over the past half-century, federal allocations have been starved and legislation distorted into what Mark Heyrman, a professor of law at the University of Chicago who specializes in mental health advocacy, calls “a variety of un-funded, uncoordinated services.” The central deficiency in many respects is a severe lack of human and financial resources, a fact hardly disputable when compared to the Illinois of yesteryear. According to Heyrman, there were 35,000 beds in Illinois available to patients in both outpatient and institutional facilities 60 years ago. Today there are 1,300.

Heyrman believes that successful mental health programs exist—they just haven’t been implemented on a large enough scale in Illinois. One such program is the Assertive Community Treatment, or ACT model. Under this system, patients are provided  “the multidisciplinary, round-the-clock staffing of a psychiatric unit, but within the comfort of their own home and community.” According to the National Alliance on Mental Illness, ACT recognizes that “individuals with the most severe mental illnesses are typically not served well by the traditional outpatient model, with various services that the patient must navigate on their own.” Throughout Illinois, ACT is almost nowhere to be found, since it is simply too costly for health providers to offer. Heyrman notes that the number of ACT teams in the state “has declined precipitously as providers have increasingly had to secure funding [outside of their budgets] in order to afford it.”

The consequences of this dearth of resources are perhaps nowhere quite so visible as in city hospitals. Urgent care facilities are increasingly saddled with the severely ill—those who struggle with cyclical but nonetheless debilitating symptoms—and the newly unemployed or homeless. The latter’s need for mental health services would ideally be mitigated by the network of support—as simple as food and cots—that Torres and other long-time clinicians know to be very effective in the treatment and prevention of mental illness.

As the mental health clinics close, these preventative resources—and their benefits—will be in jeopardy. Torres is still shaking her head over the proposal:, “It doesn’t make sense any which way. From a [fiscal] perspective it doesn’t make sense, because of the increased cost of hospitalizations, incarcerations…If people aren’t stable they’re going to lose their jobs, their houses…You’re denying very basic rights.”

For patients, clinicians, and activists alike, the expected drop in quality of care is an unending source of disappointment and frustration. But the defunding is, distressingly, not simply a matter of money drying up. To make matters worse, some say the loss of state dollars is due to gross financial mismanagement.

In February 2008, Illinois’s Department of Human Services was notified of a transition from a state system to a computerized bill payment system provided by a subcontracted tech company, CERNER Corporation. The system was revealed to be largely nonfunctional, as shown in documents obtained through the Freedom of Information Act according to the Coalition to Save Our Mental Health Centers. In the months after its implementation, an overwhelming 95 percent of bills submitted to the state government by the new software were rejected on grounds of missing data.

Because the claims couldn’t be processed, the state’s Division of Mental Health elected to withhold the funding necessary to cover the operational costs of clinics like the soon-to-be terminated Woodlawn Mental Health Center. A spokesman for the Department of Human Services, Tom Green, stated that the decision to cut funding on the order of $1.2 million was based solely on the city’s inability to provide billing data.

Michael Snedeker, who has worked for the Coalition to Save Our Mental Health Centers since 2008, recounts an incident that could be an omen of what’s to come: when the roof of the Rogers Park Clinic partially collapsed last year, its patients were temporarily directed to the nearest operational mental health center, North River, where they remained under the care of Rogers Park staff. Roughly half of those patients never sought treatment at the stopgap location.

Snedeker regards this figure as a generous estimation of the number of patients who will make it through the transition. For many of the nearly 2,600 current clients whose local clinics will be shuttered, the forced relocation is more than a logistical inconvenience. A longer commute for patients means a hike in the cost of treatment—especially for those who have been unable to secure coverage and who have long relied on the unflagging generosity of therapists like Torres and Navarro.

“We took it as a betrayal,” Torres says of the budget. “They’re annihilating health, period. Not just the clinics. And especially for Ana [Navarro]—she’s been here 27 years, she’s from this community, born and raised, people from her church come here. So it’s also a betrayal of the community, not just of the clients but of their families too.”

Other patients face the possibility of arriving at a new facility where there are no therapists who speak their language. Meanwhile, relationships that have been built over years are likely to end. As Navarro explains, “We’re merging with Lawndale, but that doesn’t necessarily mean Rosa and I will be going to Lawndale.” The city’s transition team hasn’t yet told them when their clinic will close or where they’ll be reassigned, she says.

Torres is most distressed by the uncertain fate of her clients: “We’re staff—we’re used to being tossed around like foster children. But the clients? It’s very humiliating for them…they just want to send ten of them here, move ten over there. And will it be today, or tomorrow, or a week from today?”

Patients’ prospects for dependable treatment will remain bleak as the slated closures take effect, possibly as soon as mid February or March, according to a Greater Lawn clinician. Torres states that just under 40 therapists will be terminated, a figure that does not include the psychiatrists and other clinic staff who will be laid off.

“In terms of the physical size of Chicago alone, six centers is pretty pathetic,” Snedeker says. “And as to the claim that services will be improved, I just don’t see how that’s possible with the reduction in staff that’s taking place.” He foresees a grim landscape of meager mental healthcare resources, which he likens to the food deserts that also plague expanses of the South Side. “Conceivably very soon,” he portends, “in these neighborhoods where resources have been so depleted, a near-absence of care could definitely come about, and I think to a very sobering effect.”

At the Driscoll House, home of the Ridge Historical Society, riders were given a small map marked with 25 X’s—each accompanied by a clue. Riding from X to X, the participants followed a  meandering eight-mile loop through the neighborhood.  Some clues, such as the one leading to architectural standouts like Givin’s Irish Castle, weren’t too surprising. Yet others pointed the way to hidden sites of tragedy and intrigue, such as an unassuming house that once bore the first fingerprints to be used to convict a man of murder. Each clue was written as a charming couplet, with appropriate wit exhibited through pun and rhyme. Clue #25 directed riders back to the start, reading “High on the hill since 1922—Not in Rome, San Francisco or Paris—Sits the _______ House, So splendid with its Terrace!”

A number of community organizations teamed up with the planning association to put together the hunt. Beverly Bike and Ski offered free tune-ups to participants, and even awarded the winner with a bicycle. Other local institutions joined in at the finish line, where riders enjoyed alcoholic drinks, pumpkin painting, and snacks, including homemade potato chips from the neighborhood favorite Calabria Imports.

Whether lifetime residents or visitors from across Chicagoland, participants on this scavenger hunt discovered minutia throughout the neighborhood they never would have encountered otherwise. “I’ve been a resident for 10 years and I’m finding things I don’t know, like how many dragons are on our neighbor’s house,” said one mom, chasing a group of girls on the hunt.

Matt Walsh, a longtime Beverly resident and head of the planning association, agreed. “I think that’s one of the beauties of Beverly Hills—it’s always a surprise,” he said, referring to the neighborhood by its former name.

One of the biggest mysteries for him and the other community organizers, he says, is why Beverly remains such a “well kept secret” in the city.

But perhaps Beverly is hidden from city life by design: though less conspicuous than porch dragons, the neighborhood’s street system is notorious for bottlenecking any incoming traffic. Is this the result of segregation era zoning, or a half-hearted and innocent attempt at garden city planning? Maybe next year’s historical tour will offer a clue.

Maggie Sivit

Originally dubbed “Beverly Hills” in reference to a massive prehistoric ridge that spans it, the neighborhood has always been home to more upwardly mobile middle class families than California-style celebrities. Those weary of the bustling city have taken refuge in this burgeoning suburban community wedged between 87th and 107th Streets since the 1890s, starting with waves of English, then Irish, and finally African Americans. Today, while the outskirts of the neighborhood are home to commercial development, a continuous stream of traffic, and sun-baked sidewalks, the heart of Beverly continues to provide a respite from Chicago’s harsh urban scenery.  The pleasant clang of an approaching Metra train, brick buildings, tree-lined avenues, and soaring church steeples create quaint vistas straight from old-fashioned family sitcoms. Boasting many architectural gems, Beverly possesses a bevy of Frank Lloyd Wright homes, numerous examples of prairie-style architecture, and a 19th century replica of an Irish castle. Properties terminate in sloping, manicured lawns and the air is permeated by a quiet hum of lawnmowers and rustling leaves. In spite of the idyllic scenery, Beverly still has had its share of community strife. The installation of cul-de-sacs in the mid 90s restricted entry into the neighborhood to three locations, viewed by some as an effort to create a racially and economically gated community. Yet Beverly continues to change. A special clause in Chicago city contracts encourages employees to live within Chicago’s limits; Beverly has become a haven for cops trying to maintain their pensions as a result. But the hard-working spirit that established Beverly still persists, borne out in a down-to-earth community that is proud of its roots.

Best Hats
Optimo
In a smoke-gray building off Western Avenue, Optimo is redefining the nearly extinct craft of hatmaking. The store, with a dark wood interior, old sewing machines and vintage hat forms, offers a wealth of timeless designs including the classic Fedora, the flat-top pork pie, the 47th Street, and the Montecristi Panama hat. Owner Graham Thompson, a former apprentice of famed South Side hatter Johnny Tyrus, uses techniques that belong to a tradition dating back to the 1930s. A back wall sweeps up two stories, dotted with beauties of all shapes and materials. Optimo does not actively market itself but instead relies on the reputation of its craftsmanship. Incidentally, word has spread and Optimo hats have graced the crowns of local South Side dandies, international patrons, and celebrities such as Johnny Depp and Christian Bale. But gentlemen must be prepared to shell out for gentlemen’s prices: most hats are in the $500 range. Quality is classy, though, and to that we can tip our hat.  10215 S. Western Ave. Monday-Saturday, 10am-6pm. (773)298-1031 optimohats.com (Anna Fixsen)

Best Blueberry Pancakes
Beverly Bakery
With friendly service and damn good breakfast, Beverly Bakery gives off a small-town vibe that’s rare in the big city. Here, slow moving fans rotate above diners digging into heaps of pancakes, and the clink of dishes nearly drowns out the old timers chattering over cups of coffee. A large display case sits adjacent to the cash register, stuffed with goodies like buttery croissants, doughnuts, cupcakes, and gooey caramel rolls. The tasty omelets, hashbrowns, and what the menu boasts as “the best blueberry pancakes on the South Side” keep Beverly Bakery packed on weekends. The bakery also doubles as a coffee roastery. Gourmet blends of coffee are imported from 21 different spots around the globe and roasted in-house. Patrons can even have coffee roasted to their specifications. The Chiapas blend ice coffee and a fluffy almond scone make for an especially satisfying summer’s second breakfast, further justifying that this is where Beverly goes for breakfast again and again. 10528 S. Western Ave. Tuesday-Friday, 7am-2pm; Saturday-Sunday, 8am-2pm. (773)238-5580. beverlycoffeeroasters.com (Anna Fixsen)

Best Take-Out Vegan
Sistah’s Vegan
Sistah’s Vegan is easy to miss, plunked next-door to a shrimp and chicken shack in a strip of low-lying white buildings. A glass door ushers patrons into this pocket-sized eatery where reggae music bounces off the walls. While the décor—bright yellow walls punctuated here and there by African diaspora art—can be described as spartan, the spectrum of flavors in its vegan fare is anything but scant. Sistah’s dishes up favorites such as enchiladas, homemade lasagna, and barbecue seitan at reasonable prices (the most expensive item on the menu is $8.95). Fried seitan bites proved crisp and delicious, while celery sticks and vegan dipping sauces made a tasty side dish. Washing it all down with organic ginger beer offered a perfect ending to the meal. Sistah’s also offers dirt-cheap daily specials including $1 tacos on Mondays and $5 personal vegan pizzas on Fridays. While mostly designed for carry-out, customers can sit at small tables, and munch on country fries or tofu bites while watching planes from Midway Airport gain altitude over 95th Street. 2239 W. 95th St. Monday, 3:30pm-7:30pm; Tuesday-Saturday, 12pm-8:30pm. (773)445-4788 (Anna Fixsen)

Best First Date
Café 103
Tucked in scenic downtown Beverly, Café 103 is a little gem of a BYOB.  Serving contemporary American fare in a cozy yet chic atmosphere, the restaurant draws crowds from even the far North Side. Quaint Americana décor and earthy burgundy tones make the space warm and welcoming. The joint is small, but it features a diverse and delectable menu. For lunch, Café 103 offers a variety of gourmet sandwiches and salads. A highlight from their dinner menu is the grilled rack of lamb accompanied by ladolemono couscous with feta, roasted garlic, and spinach. A vegetarian-friendly fettuccini á la nage is served with roasted red peppers, summer corn, fresh tomato, thyme, and parmesan. Themed dinners spice up the midweek cooking slump, so instead of ordering Chinese takeout or heating up leftovers, you can have tapas on Tuesday and burgers on Wednesday. While their prices are a little on the steep side—their red snapper will have you out 27 bucks and they charge a $5 corking fee—the quality of food, the intimate space, and idyllic location make it the perfect spot for an impressive date, first or five hundredth. 1909 W. 103rd St. Tuesday-Saturday, lunch served 11am – 4pm; dinner served 5pm – 10pm (773)238-5115. cafe103.com (Anna Fixsen)

Best Way to Lose the Lovehandles
Running Excels
With the Chicago marathon around the corner, it might be time for some new kicks. Running Excels is the only shop of its kind on the South Side that fits both casual joggers and seasoned racers with the best in running gear.  The store is stuffed with racks of light runners’ singlets, socks, energy goo, and a wall of shoes. The workers have dozens of marathons under their belts and the knowledge to answer any running-related questions. The shop carries a wide range of sneakers, from racing flats to cross country spikes. Running Excels will conduct a stride analysis on treadmills in-store to identify one’s foot type and recommend the best footwear to ensure a proper fit. Less tangible prizes like a whittled waist line and companionship can be acquired through the store’s running club: groups meet several times a week for brisk morning jogs. And whether you run for pleasure or only when pursued, the cheery staff at Running Excels will give you ample motivation to break into a trot as soon as the glass front door shuts from behind. 10328 S. Western Ave. Monday-Friday, 10am-7pm; Saturday, 10am – 6pm; Sunday, 11am-5pm. (773)629-8587. runningexcels.com  (Anna Fixsen)

Beverly Hills and Morgan Park are far from what the average Chicagoan thinks of when he or she hears the words “South Side.” Instead of tall apartment buildings, you’ll find rows of Carpenter Gothic, Queen Anne, and Prairie-style homes; instead of huddles of fold-out chairs on the sidewalk, you’ll see parents around their backyard swimming pools sipping cocktails; and instead of a Dat Donut located under a sun-weathered plastic awning, there’s a sparkling new Dat Donut with a pink-and-purple neon storefront at the foot of the tallest hill in the city.

Planted between 88th and 117th Streets west of the Dan Ryan, the only thing that really distinguishes these two neighborhoods is an imaginary boundary line that runs along 107th Street. But despite the dozen miles that separate the neighborhoods from the Loop, make no mistake about this area’s quintessential Chicago character—the area is home to a large population of Irish-American White Sox fans, many officers of the Chicago Police Department, a few city officials, and at least one local news personality. Beverly Hills and Morgan Park are neighborhoods of people that have gotten to know one another through church, or the Arts Center, or late nights at the pub. Indeed, many residents used to describe their part of the neighborhood by the parish to which their family belonged—located at just about every street corner is a century-old cathedral.

These are neighborhoods that people aspire to settle down in—the average shop or restaurant has been in the family for generations, and the owners have likely met each customer’s siblings. With their fair share of urban dining, and all the amenities of the suburbs (think inexpensive flower nurseries, health food shops, undiscovered thrift store-goods), Beverly Hills and Morgan Park are two of the best reasons to take the Red Line all the way down to 95th/Dan Ryan.

best popcorn-focused eatery
Let’s Get Poppin’

In the dog-eat-dog world of gourmet popcorn purveyors, Let’s Get Poppin’ provides some tasty competition for Chicago mainstay Garrett’s. Upon entering the store, one is welcomed by bright, white lighting, a healthy sprinkling of Betty Boop–themed décor, and friendly staff offering large handfuls of freshly popped free samples. Be sure to accept: made-on-site store staples, such as bacon cheddar, jalapeño red pepper, and barbecue, are worth at least a nibble each and are a huge hit with the neighborhood clientele. Ever eager to please their regulars, the owners add two or three new varieties to the menu each year and are known to get festive around the holidays, turning out kernels in red and green. And according to at least one emphatic preschooler petitioning his mother for caramel corn, Let’s Get Poppin’ has also mastered the classics. After making a selection, top off your neon-cheese binge with sweets including Edy’s ice cream, root beer floats, and frozen Icees. Or go for a slice of cake or fudge made by Essie Baltzeigler, the owner’s grandmother. 11758 S. Western Ave. Monday-Friday, 10am-8pm; Saturday, 10am-7pm (Morgan Kripke)

best castle
“Givens Castle”

Recently awarded landmark status by the Chicago Landmarks Commission, the “Givens Castle” is known to some as the Beverly Unitarian Church and to others as a haunted all-girls finishing school, but to all as a romantic nineteenth-century slice of Ireland. Built from 1886-‘87 under the direction of real-estate developer Robert C. Givens, the three-story limestone structure originally held fifteen lavishly furnished rooms, elegant chandeliers, and large stained glass windows. Legend has it that the castle was commissioned by Givens to resemble the home of his fiancée, who was still in Ireland, in order to convince her to come to America and join him in Beverly Hills. Since then, the castle has passed through several hands, gained electricity, and has had some bedrooms converted into Sunday school classrooms. It’s located at the highest elevation point of the twelve-block stretch of mansions down historic Longwood Drive. Whether you’re coming for the architecture, the Unitarian services, or the Monday Buddhist Meditation Group, prepare to spend a few hours dazzled by Chicago’s first, and only, castle. 10244 S. Longwood Drive. (773)233-7080. beverlyunitarian.org/(Kelsey Gee)

best aptly-named burger
Top Notch Beef Burgers

Top Notch is a funny mixture of the 1970s diner it once was and the casual dining chain that later took it over. The décor falls somewhere between eclectic and haphazard (collections of Coca Cola signage and Bob Ross-reminiscent paintings line the walls). The time machine that is the restaurant’s interior draws in a surprisingly rich mix of locals. Your waitress is very likely to be a peppy high school junior, and the customers come from all walks of life: young and old, black and white, families and metropolitans. The varied crowd and extensive menu notwithstanding, I noticed on my way to the restroom (to be avoided at all costs) that every patron, except the vegetarians at my table, had a beef burger on his or her plate. At Top Notch they grind their own beef daily, and peel and cut their own fries. There are also plenty of specialty beef burgers (the Western, topped with bacon, grilled green peppers, and barbecue sauce, is a neighborhood favorite) and an unusually large selection of turkey burgers. For fans of cheap, juicy burgers, fries with some skin on them, and old-fashioned milkshakes, Top Notch Beef Burgers offers an experience that’s hard to find in this town or this decade. Be warned: it closes at 8pm and only accepts cash. 2116 W. 95th St. Monday-Thursday, 8am-8pm. Friday-Saturday, 8am-8:30pm (Daniel Zhong)

best alliterative donut
Dat Donut

For the uninitiated, Dat Donut is famous for serving the “Big Dat,” a yeasty monstrosity the size of your head. At only $2.59 apiece, and weighing in at approximately half a dozen doughnuts’ worth of batter, the glazed behemoth matches the quality of a Krispy Kreme but is less pricey and much more entertaining to eat. While it might seem like such a pastry is meant to be tackled with a fork and pizza cutter, my party had no problem ripping off chunks by hand and dipping them into a French vanilla coffee for unmatched sweet satisfaction. Take note, however, that the joint claims their doughnuts are “Too Good To Dunk,” so your experience may vary. For Chicagoans living closer to 80th than 111th, there’s also a Dat Donut on 83rd and Cottage Grove with an identical menu. Whichever way you want to eat your doughnut, and whichever location you visit, be sure to bring your appetite and some friends, and to avoid your scale the next day. 1979 W. 111th St. Monday-Friday, 5:30am-6pm; Saturday, 6am-5pm (Daniel Zhong)

best dress-up clothes
Beverly Costume and Novelty Shop

“What do you wanna be?” store owner Randy Drevnes asks, expressionless. Beverly Costume and Novelty Shop carries over 100,000 costumes—packed densely throughout two floors—comprising the most fascinating store that you’ll never be allowed to roam. Drevnes, a serious, middle-aged man, owns the store and manages the “accumulation” of costumes. He insists that customers arrive with an idea of what they want so that he may navigate the seas of merchandise himself, as the shop isn’t intended for browsing. Knowledgeable and passionate about garments of all shapes, sizes, and decades, Randy disdains the costume shops that pop up around Halloween and sell cheesy outfits made from “flimsy windbreaker material.” At Beverly Costumes, customers can walk into the shop and pay $35 to rent a complete ensemble, accessories and shoes included. Any costume may be purchased, and wigs, stage make-up, and masks are regularly sold on the cheap (all masks are under $6). The store does most of its business around Halloween, Christmas, and Easter, but the shop enjoys a steady stream of off-season traffic that helps keep it open year-round. 11628 S. Western Ave. beverlyrecords.com/costume.htm (Daniel Zhong)

best legal addictive substance
Jimmy Jamm Sweet Potato Pies Bakery & Cafe

“You guys ever hear of George Washington Carver?” asks Jimmy Jamm’s co-owner, Harold, while passing us generous samples of dairy-free sweet potato ice cream. “Well, I’m the George Washington Carver of sweet potatoes.” In the three years since his father-in-law revealed—on his death bed, no less—the secret family sweet potato pie recipe, Harold and his wife, Jimmy, have opened Jimmy Jamm, a veritable homage to the sweet potato, and have discovered dozens of novel uses for the versatile vegetable. Sweet potato bread, sweet potato French fries, sweet potato muffins, “loaded yams” stuffed with diced meats or mushrooms, and, of course, sweet potato pies; it seems there’s nothing that Harold, Jimmy, and a bit of imagination can’t turn into sweet potato magic. The last addition to the list, chicken and sweet potato waffles, is described as “off the chain,” with big nods of agreement around the room. Behind a tired sous chef hangs a portrait of a familiar figure in a Napoleon-style French military outfit, entitled “Renaissance Obama.” If the seven kinds of sweet potato pie or creamy cheesecake can’t convince you to stop by Jimmy Jamm, or the restaurant’s running list of anecdotal health benefits, the business also caters all kinds of special events. What could be better for your favorite little girl’s birthday than a Barbie doll dressed in a creamy, brown-sugary sweet potato cake? Come for the smooth jazz and free wifi, or for the great company and frequent free goodies, but stay for the home-cooked savory-sweet goodness of the sweet potato. 1844 W. 95th St. Monday-Saturday, 10am-7pm. (773)779-9105 (Kelsey Gee)

The Freddie from Calabria Imports (Claire Hungerford)

Inspired by a recent article in Dining Chicago on the city’s lesser-known signature sandwiches, I set out last week to find and consume three that are native to the South Side: the big baby, the Freddy and the mother-in-law. My expedition very quickly deteriorated into a desperate search, however. I met with caged, closed storefronts, wrong turns, and bad directions. I drove past blocks of boarded buildings, torn signs, and trash, then unexpectedly emerged into neat rows of houses, time-warped out of the ’70s. My physical journey through the South Side landscape to discover the sandwiches illuminated a historic movement of people, cultures, and tastes.

My first success was finding the big baby, a distinctive incarnation of the double cheeseburger. Its birthplace, Nicky’s the Real McCoy, was bright and yellow and red. Devoid of authenticizing pieces of memorabilia, it had the fast-food sterility of McDonald’s, with plastic tables fixed to the ground and brown tile floor. Yet the menu lacked McDonald’s predictability. While families with small children ordered up barbecue, two spindles hung with meat for gyros rotated slowly and beef patties sizzled for the quintessential American double-cheeseburger that would soon melt in my mouth. The big baby was by far the best sandwich I encountered, with its classic combination of juicy beef and onions, American cheese, mustard, and ketchup.

The eponymous founder of Nicky’s, Nick Vaginas, was a Greek man who opened some hot dog and burger stands in the ’60s. Vaginas appropriated the established tools and forms of production in America—hot dog stands, burgers, and buns—and injected Greece into them, in the form of gyros and pita bread. Though Vaginas didn’t stick around (he returned to Greece after only a few years), his sandwich and store remain to preserve his memory.

A similar two-way Americanization characterizes the Freddy, an Italian-style sausage patty on French bread that was conceived in Beverly during the ’70s. After previous failed attempts to lay my hands on this less common sandwich, it was with whoops and smiles that I spotted Calabria Imports on 103rd Street. Nestled in a row of tacky home accessory shops and cafés, the deli had a distinct community feel. Its founder, Benito Russo, is generally recognized as the father of the Freddy, which he named after his son. The sandwich I received was smothered in chunky tomato sauce, wilted green peppers, and mozzarella, offering a pleasing contrast of textures and flavors: the French bread was fluffy, and the sausage surprisingly well-spiced.

The community atmosphere, rather than the sandwich itself, reflected the story of the South Side’s immigrant past. Calabria Imports is a living legacy to the sorts of shops and food markets newly immigrated Italians opened that have, over the years, slowly become completely integrated.

The essential ingredients of the mother-in-law sandwich are chili and a corn-roll tamale on a hot-dog bun. Despite the efforts of Chicago food history buff Peter Engler, who traced the roots of the big baby and the Freddy, the mother-in-law’s origins remain murky. Today it is hard to find anywhere but at hot dog stands on the Southwest Side, which is where I got mine: at Fat Johnnie’s Famous Red Hots in Marquette Park. After ordering at the window of a clapboard-roofed trailer, I returned to the car with my brown bag. Inside was a soggy brown mess; goopy, watery chili threatened to consume the squishy poppy-seed bun. All the textures—the mealy cornmeal, the grainy meat, the soaked bread—combined into an unfortunate mush in my mouth.

Though it was the least appetizing of the three South Side specialties, the mother-in-law has perhaps the most intriguing history. It bears an obvious resemblance to the Coney dog and the Maxwell Street Polish, but its corn-roll tamale is unique to Chicago, differing from both the Mexican version and the spicy variety common to the South. Both are probable influences, however; Engler’s posts about the mother-in-law on Chicago foodie website LTHforum.com even caught the attention of historians documenting the Mississippi Delta’s “Hot Tamale Trail” (tamaletrail.com). The paths of immigration and the Great Migration of Southern blacks during the early twentieth century have crossed in Chicago to create a unique culinary experience.

Nicky’s the Real McCoy, 5801 S. Kedzie Ave. Calabria Imports, 1905 W. 103rd St. Fat Johnnie’s Famous Red Hots, 7242 S. Western Ave.

(Ellis Calvin)

“It’s a niche of the wine market that seems to be growing,” Ozelis reflects in the back room of Bev Art. Wild Blossom currently operates out of this tiny space, experimenting with new flavors and aging barrels of concoctions in the cellar. The honey used to make the mead comes directly from beehives kept by Fischer, who has been raising bees since he was a child in New Paltz, New York. When he met Ozelis through a local homebrew club, he was looking for a way to put his honey to use. “He could sell it as honey,” Ozelis explains. “But it’s much more interesting when you turn it into wine.”

Interesting, and a little “esoteric,” Ozelis says with a smile. While Fischer knew that the honey he was producing was of a high enough quality to make good mead, neither he nor Ozelis was sure if customers would buy it. “The only thing he had to worry about was if people would be interested—will they understand it, will they accept it,” Ozelis recalls. Part of mead’s appeal is its rich history, but that can also be a bit intimidating. “People don’t know too much about mead,” Ozelis admits. “They think of Vikings rampaging, drunk out of their skulls.”

Wild Blossom meads shouldn’t cause the average person to go berserk. Prairie Passion, the brewery’s most traditional mead, lacks the hallucinogenic components, such as fly agaric mushrooms or toad skin bufotoxins, that the Vikings are theorized to have ingested with their mead. Instead, it’s laden with sweet and heavy floral notes, and the bottle cap is filled with Chicago wildflower seeds, encouraging the customer to help maintain the renewable source of their beverage.

Wild Blossom’s product is “about as local as you can get,” according to Ozelis. Some of Fischer’s hives are located on the site of the abandoned U.S. Steel plant on 92nd Street. Where most people saw “leftover industrial real estate,” in Ozelis’s words, Fischer saw opportunity. His bees pollinate the wildflowers on the property and, as Ozelis sees it, both the city of Chicago and Fischer are “turning it into something much more enjoyable and usable.” This seems to be a common theme among Fischer’s hives: he has several more located on top of the Marriott at 540 North Michigan Avenue, contributing to the hotel’s green roof project. “There’s a lot of flowers up and down Michigan Avenue,” Ozelis explained. “The bees just fly around, pollinate them, and come back.” Still more hives are located in the Indiana Dunes, where the fragrant black cohosh flower, indigenous to the area, imparts an intense aroma to meads made from the honey of those hives. “It’s amazing that within an hour of the city you can have bees pollinating wildflowers and turning out honey that isn’t toxic or rancid,” Ozelis chuckles.

While mead has been found on almost every continent, different cultures produce vastly different versions, depending on the raw materials they have available. Wild Blossom incorporates local produce, like blueberries, mulberries, and raspberries, but in Eastern Europe, where it’s difficult to grow fruit, meads tend to be flavored with spices. Ozelis, who is Lithuanian, felt a socio-cultural connection to mead in his early brewing days. “It was something I was familiar with, something I had sampled. It’s another excuse to ferment something.” He remembers the meads from his country being very spice-oriented: “The traditional Lithuanian meads have ginger, juniper, allspice, cinnamon; they might even add some other herbs like dill or fennel. Sometimes they would add hops in there, either for aroma or for bittering purposes. It’s more like a tonic or an elixir.” With such a sweet product, bittering is a common, if optional, step. In Ethiopia, the stems of the shiny-leaf buckthorn—a shrub known there as gesho—are boiled to produce a bitter extract, which is combined with honey to make a drink called tej. The simple mead is truly a global drink.

Like the many generations of meadmakers before them, Fischer and Ozelis are constantly tinkering with new flavor combinations. Most of their meads include some kind of fruit. “The idea with fruit,” Ozelis explains, “is that it adds a layer of complexity and depth because now it’s not just honey and water. Adding fruit to it really adds much more in terms of flavor, aroma, mouth-feel, and color.” Their Wild Berry mead is made with crushed wild mulberries and raspberries, which are left in the mead, skins and all, during a secondary fermentation. Using the whole fruit gives rise to delightful tannins, and the taste is much stronger and more acidic than their Pom-Nectar mead, which uses pomegranate juice from California since the fruit doesn’t grow locally.

One of Fischer and Ozelis’ most innovative techniques involves aging their Sweet Desire mead in old bourbon barrels, to pull out the flavor, the color, and the aroma of the barrel, as well as the bourbon. This idea was a twist on a specialty beer created by the local brew club, HOPS (Homebrew’s Pride of the South Side), which Fischer co-founded in 1995. Ozelis remembers making the brew on St. Patrick’s Day for the South Side parade. “Homebrew’s Pride of the South Side would do fifty gallons of stout on the sidewalk. We’d be boiling up beer along the parade, and we’d always put it in whiskey barrels to ferment and age, because that gives it a wonderful flavor.” When Ozelis and Fischer joined forces to create Wild Blossom, they didn’t want to try this technique with wine. “That would be like throwing a shot of Jack Daniels in a cheap chianti: not very appetizing,” Ozelis jokes. “But we thought it might work with the mead, and sure enough, it did.”

In addition to their collection of diverse meads, Wild Blossom also makes a line of South Side wines, “a sort of homage to the old Italian guys on the South Side who would make wine during Prohibition,” says Ozelis. “The grapes would come in from California on the railroad cars and all the Italian guys would get the grapes and make wine like they did back when they were in Sicily or Naples.” Unfortunately, none of Wild Blossom’s beverages can be sold on premises. Due to zoning restrictions, Wild Blossom can manufacture their wines in the back of the Bev Art Supply Store, but customers need to walk to the liquor store across the street to buy them. “After prohibition, this side of the Beverly neighborhood voted for the whole ward here to be dry, and then across the street was wet, which meant that you could open up a tavern or sell alcohol in restaurants,” explains Ozelis. An unfortunate by-product of this law, he points out, is that there are no good restaurants on the dry side of Western Avenue. He remains hopeful: “It might be changing because there’s pressure to develop this neighborhood. Maybe people are eventually going to realize that it’d be nice to have a decent restaurant or a music venue. We’ll see what happens.”

The future looks bright. Wild Blossom advertises mead to be the most sustainable beverage on earth, largely because it takes so little effort to harvest the raw materials. Ozelis hypothesizes that the first people to discover mead simply found a honeycomb filled with rainwater that had been allowed to ferment with airborne wild yeast. In modern times, mead-making is a little more controlled, but Ozelis cheerfully emphasizes the lack of human hands in the process. “We just let the bees fly around, go to the wildflowers to forage and pollinate, and they give us honey.” Compared to wine or beer, as well as most farm produce, Ozelis guarantees that “you don’t have to run combines, tractors, trailers, or refrigerated trucks to move the honey, so that really cuts down on energy use and pollution.” While sustainability is a popular catch phrase these days, mead is not just eco-friendly—it’s timeless. This drink of the gods contains both past and future in a single sip: an age-old tradition, perfected over centuries, promises to be around for centuries to come.

best start-your-own catering business
Cakewalk
Baking enthusiast? Or do you think you’re a world-class pâtissier in the making? Cakewalk, a baking supply store, was started in 2003 by Chef Lori Parrett to help Chicagoans embark on all kinds of cooking endeavors. Providing for both professional needs and homestyle techniques, Cakewalk is stocked with every kind of cake mold, cookie cutter and muffin tin imaginable. The store also provides candy-making tools and a solid collection of instructional books, which range in subject matter from cupcakes to wedding cakes. To supplement their retail, Cakewalk offers an array of weekend classes. A knowledgeable staff is on premises, ready and eager to cater to their customers. 1741 W. 99th St. Tuesday-Thursday, 11am-5pm; Friday, 11am-pm; Saturday, 10:30am-5pm. (773)233-7335. cakewalkchicago.com (Sarah Pickering)

most uses for sweet potato
Jimmy Jamm Sweet Potato Pies
“Is this your first time here?” asks the man behind the counter. “Let me show you around.” Pies, you will find, are only one of the many uses of the sweet potato. Jimmy Jamm also sells scones, muffins, cookies, cakes, as well as a non-dairy ice cream, all flavored with the tasty tuber. One could theoretically get lunch first, as there are sweet potatoes stuffed with chicken or beef, sweet potato vegetable stew, and a variety of sandwiches on sweet potato bread. The friendly establishment goes through 300 to 400 sweet potatoes every few days, using recipes that have been passed down for nearly a century. 1844 W. 95th St. Monday-Saturday, 10am-7pm. (773)779-9105 (Sarah Pickering)

best (and only) meadery
Wild Blossom Meadery
While it may evoke images of Vikings and warlords, the taste of mead, or “honey wine” as it is sometimes called, is sweet, similar to a dessert wine. The Wild Blossom Meadery operates out of the back room of the Bev Art Brewer and Winemaker Supply shop. Bev Art offers classes in making your own beer and wine, and they let you store your product in their store until it’s ready. Founded by Greg Fischer in 2000, Wild Blossom is Chicago’s first winery and the only meadery in Illinois. Using local bees and wildflowers found in abandoned lots, Wild Blossom runs over 80 hives. Certain products are flavored with spices or fruit, like the blueberry and pomegranate meads, but there is really something for every audience here. Case in point: through their unique partnership with Jim Beam, Wild Blossom ages their “Sweet Desire” mead in old oak casks used to age whiskey, imparting a strong kick to its flavor profile. Using and reusing local materials is what led Fischer to promote the Wild Blossom Meadery & Winery as “the world’s most sustainable wine.” 10033 S. Western Ave. Monday, 8am-4pm; Tuesday-Saturday, 8am-7pm. (773)881-9463. wildblossomwines.com (Sarah Pickering)

The festival was founded in 1989 by Christopher Kamyszew, who “decided to bring some Polish films to the United States to show Polish culture,” according to PFFA director Ewa Domeredzka. This year she expects about 15,000 people to show up at the festival’s six venues. “These days everything is on computers…It’s harder than it used to be,” she says of attracting viewers. “We’re trying to bring more for the American audience.” Thus, all but a few of the films have subtitles, and a number are in styles that Americans will recognize.

This is true of the first run of films at the Beverly Arts Center, all three of which are comedies. It begins on Tuesday, November 11, with “Lejdis,” a modern riff on the battle of the sexes from the point of view of four independent young women. The film has proven wildly popular in Poland, breaking box-office records on its opening night and garnering interest from foreign producers eager to shoot their own versions. The Wednesday and Thursday night offerings are less promising: two rom-coms in the Hollywood vein, neither of which boasts enough originality to make it worth either the $10 ticket price or the effort of reading subtitles. “Midnight Talks” has its requisite quirky heroine who spends her time sculpting angels out of salt dough until she realizes it’s time to have a baby. Her ad for a sperm donor brings her more than she expects, though, and her (somewhat inexplicable) efforts not to fall in love make up the better part of the movie. “One More Time” is a somewhat clumsy effort to interweave two subplots, the “parallel romantic adventures” of a mother and her teenage daughter as they spend a summer together at a seaside resort. The film’s picturesque Polish setting may be a bigger asset than its plot or character development.

On the following Tuesday, however, the Center will show a film that rivals the biggest Hollywood blockbusters in scale and ambition. “Mongol” is an epic that chronicles the early life of Genghis Khan: his choice of a bride at the age of nine, the flight from his clan following the murder of his father, and his stormy friendship with his blood-brother Jemukha. With a budget of just $20 million, Academy Award-nominated director and co-writer Sergei Bodrov shot the film on the steppes of Kazakhstan, creating battle scenes on par with those of “Lord of the Rings.” He intends it to be the first part of a trilogy based on a recently discovered text entitled “The Secret History of the Mongols.”

The screenings on Wednesday and Thursday are more tragic than epic. “Children of Glory” centers on the Hungarian water polo team in the lead-up to the 1956 Olympics, where it faced the Soviet Union shortly after the violent suppression of Hungary’s attempted revolution. “Katyn,” directed by the renowned Andrzej Wajda, is another Academy Award nominee; it tells the story of the Katyn Forest massacre through the eyes of the women left behind by the 1940 mass execution of 22,000 Soviet prisoners of war.

For those looking to get a taste of authentic Eastern European cinema, these last three films offer the best opportunity. “Some are trying to make things similar to Hollywood,” explains Ewa Domeredzka. “But we have our own European style that’s not so sweet, not always a happy ending. I think that these are the best films—the ones that win awards, that we can be proud of.”
Beverly Art Center, 2407 W. 111th St. Mongol: November 18. Tuesday, 7:30pm. Children of Glory: November 19. Wednesday, 7:30pm. Katyn: November 20. Thursday, 7:30pm. $10. pffamerica.com, beverlyartcenter.com

Best Ice Cream
Shawn Michelle’s Homemade Ice Cream
One hundred feet south of the city line, technically in the suburb of Blue Island, sits the new location of Shawn Michelle’s Homemade Ice Cream. The enthusiastic staff warn first-time customers, “Shawn Michelle’s Homemade Ice Cream is not responsible for any addictions” resulting from the seriously incredible quality of their ice cream. The “Sweet Sixteen Flavors” include their superior versions of the basics, like Vanilla Supreme, Burst of Strawberry, and a dark chocolate called Melanin Magic. Unique and brilliant flavors like Honey Cinnamon Graham Cracker Supreme and Taste of Heaven Supreme (bean pie ice cream with bean pie pieces) make this establishment worth the trek out to the furthest reaches of the city. 11925 S. Western Ave. Tuesday-Thursday, 11am-9pm; Friday-Saturday, 12pm-9pm; Sunday, 12pm-6pm. (708)239-1380. homemadeicecream.blogspot.com (Ellis Calvin)

Best Italian import
Calabria Imports
Calabria was founded in 1975 in suburban Blue Island by an immigrant from Reggio Calabria. Five years ago it moved to Beverly, and it has been serving the Far South Side neighborhood’s sizable Italian-American population ever since. The deli/grocery store offers Italian specialties such as lasagna, tortellini, homemade tiramisu, and cannoli, not to mention a wide selection of Italian sandwiches and general sundries. The 1950s-esque atmosphere given off by the friendly local deli is reinforced by the 99-cent glass Coca-Cola bottles available in the fridge. It’s true what they say: it really does taste better in a glass bottle. 1905 W. 103rd St. Monday-Friday, 9am-7pm; Saturday, 8:30am-6pm; Sunday, 11am-3pm. (773) 396-5800. www.calabria-imports.com (Sam Feldman)

Best Place to Complete Your Vintage Vinyl Collection
Beverly Records
Now celebrating its 41st anniversary, the Beverly Rare Record Shop, or Beverly Records, is a haven for all your classic vinyl needs—and more. In fact, it hosts a variety of “classic” (i.e. nearly antiquated) goods of all kinds, as the big glass case at the entranceway immediately illustrates. From baseball cards to Wizard of Oz dolls, Buddy Holly posters and a brick from the original Comiskey ballpark, the door to Beverly Records is like a gateway into a lost—but not forgotten—era. VHS tapes go for a paltry dollar, and of course, there’s the variety of classic rock and other LPs from genres running the proverbial gamut, including contemporary releases from chart-topping mainstays. Owner Jack Dreznes has been running the business since 1975; before that, his mom ran the show, and it really has the feel of a family-owned affair. Personable service and an extensive library of old and rare LPs (along with CDs, cassettes and even 8-tracks) make this one record shop that can hold its own with the best of the South Side—and beyond. 11612 S. Western Ave. Monday-Friday, 10am-7pm; Saturday, 9:30am-6pm; Sunday, 11am-3pm. (773)779-0066. (Sean Redmond)

Best Place to Catch Some Quality Culture
Beverly Arts Center
Right as you finally step off the Western stop of the 112 bus to Beverly, a large brick building with colored BAC flags is there to welcome you to the neighborhood—and remind you that, just because you’re more than one hundred streets south of the Loop, doesn’t mean that you have to give up the fine trappings of big city culture. Indeed, the Beverly Arts Center attracts professional theater groups like Second City all the way to its humble stages, as well as providing concerts, galleries to showcase artists’ works, and offering classes on art, theater, music and dance—including bellydance!—for both kids and adults. Poems by Judith Valente line the walls, accompanied by photographs by John Matt Dorn, and a new art exhibit with vibrant large-print photography by Cecil McDonald entitled Domestic Observations & Occurrences is on display through October 13. So if you ever find yourself among the hilly streetscapes of this south-south pseudo-suburb, fear not—you can still get all the quality culture you need, even if you are an hour and a half away from home. 2407 W. 111th St. Monday-Friday, 9am-9pm; Saturday, 8:30am-6pm; Sunday, 12pm-6pm. (773)445-3838. (Sean Redmond)

Best Place to Complete Your Vintage Vinyl Collection
Beverly Records
Now celebrating its 40th anniversary, the Beverly Rare Record Shop, or Beverly Records, is a haven for all your classic vinyl needs—and more. In fact, it hosts a variety of “classic” (i.e. nearly antiquated) goods of all kinds, as the big glass case at the entranceway immediately illustrates. From baseball cards to Wizard of Oz dolls, Buddy Holly posters and a brick from the original Comiskey ballpark, the door to Beverly Records is like a gateway into a lost—but not forgotten—era. VHS tapes go for a paltry dollar, and of course, there’s the variety of classic rock and other LPs from genres running the proverbial gamut, including contemporary releases from chart-topping mainstays like Amy Winehouse. Owner Jack Dreznes has been running the business since 1975; before that, his mom ran the show, and it really has the feel of a family-owned affair. Personable service and an extensive library of old and rare LPs (along with CDs, cassettes and even 8-tracks) make this one record shop that can hold its own with the best of the South Side—and beyond. 11612 S. Western. Monday-Friday, 10am-7pm; Saturday, 9:30am-6pm; Sunday, 11am-3pm. (773)779-0066. (Sean Redmond)

Best Steak and Onion Sandwich
Calabria Imports
Beverly may be a historically Irish neighborhood, but Calabria Imports is hands down one of the best Italian delis this side of the Loop (and, dare I may be more audacious, the Atlantic—or at least Lake Michigan). But seriously, coming from a predominantly Italian-American hometown with an Italian sub shop on every corner, I can say that the beef sandwiches at Calabria’s are some of the best this reporter has ever experienced. I don’t even like steak all that much, but the meat is moist, tender, and rich with flavor; add some onions and melted provolone on some crisp Italian bread with a big bag of fries (and to think, all this for only five bucks!)—hands down, it makes the trek allllll worthwhile. Calabria’s also boasts a variety of traditional Italian dinners, such as gnocchi and chicken parmesan, as well as many other sandwiches and subs. An extensive variety of pastas, sauces, breads and Italian cookies are also for sale, and they even stock a full range of Stewart’s sodas. And while the atmosphere isn’t exactly noteworthy, the maps of Italy and the community bulletin board that adorn the walls certainly work to keep you feeling at home (although non-Italians might not feel the warmth so much). But I’ll tell you this—if quality food at great prices doesn’t put a twinkle in your eye and a spring in your step, then hey, maybe Italian food’s just not your thing. I guess there’s always Chinatown. 1905 W. 103rd. Monday-Friday, 9am-7pm; Saturday, 8:30am-6pm; Sunday, 9:30am-3:30pm. (708)388-1500.