EuroAmerican Swedish Yum Yum: Ann Sather's

I’m currently sitting slightly hunched (very unyogic in posture), fat and full from what was another comforting breakfast on a windy morning here in Chicago. As I walk the city blocks full of autumn leaves, now donning sweaters and my precursor to winter layers, the sting of this city’s wind at my face, I’m reminded time and time again why I chose to live here, the food. Sure, our architecture rivals other famous city’s, and those with shoe and handbag fetishes are sure to be satisfied here, but I awake feeling grateful knowing there is a warm, satisfying meal under ten dollars within blocks from my stoop. On this crisp fall morning, I sauntered a mere 5 blocks for some sticky buns and then some, at Ann Sather’s. Boasting 4 locations around the city, including their largest one on Belmont, also specializing in catering, Ann Sather’s has become a staple in warm, hearty foods, generous portions for a tremendous value. Claiming Sweden as its roots, each location provides a homey atmosphere and soulful fare. It’s delicious all year round, but given Chicago’s propensity for frigid, I am most drawn to Ann’s on those cold, dreary days. Eating here is an emotional equivalent of drinking hot cocoa next to a fire or eating s’mores while camping, comfort and nourishment.

I grew up eating my Grandma’s Swedish meatballs, just one of many meals venturing off from her Italian roots or her African upbringing. She married an Irish/Scottish/American man, so being the true culinary artist she is, she began exploring other continental cuisine in her own kitchen while continuing to perfect what she knew best. Swedish meatballs, corned beef and hash, or Swiss steak were always welcomed treats, special occasions, and they perpetuated a truth already engrained in our hearts and minds, the way to anyone’s heart and happiness, is of course, through our stomachs. And so whenever I feel adventurous I try a meal my Grandma had already perfected. It’s actually easier for me to throw down things like bone barrow and horse panini because my grandmother didn’t ruin me by perfecting it beyond comprehension. This is why I almost never order lasagna (a dish well conquered by my Momma), a long list of Italian and other ethnic dishes, and many American greats as well. My point is I suppose those standards are difficult to meet or beat, and so if I reluctantly try a childhood favorite and I love it, you can be sure to trust it’s damn good.

It was with that trepidation that I tried Ann Sather’s Swedish meatballs during my first visit. I hadn’t had my family’s in a while and it was one of those days where meat and potatoes seemed like the only remedy for my hunger, emotional and biological. I was so beyond pleasantly surprised, not that I should be, it’s a successful Swedish restaurant in Chicago, but I’ve been let down before, so to taste the familiar flavors and textures and feel simultaneously soothed by what I hoped it would taste like and also blown away by the excellence in execution sent me into one of my favorite states, food bliss.

Lunch and dinner are fantastic here, full of hungry man meals sure to satiate any craving and bust the buttons right off your pants. I’m going out on the limb and claiming breakfast to be my favorite meal at Ann’s. They provide 8-10 savory and sweet specials daily, including a mind-blowing mascarpone cinnamon roll french toast, let that one sink in for a beat...mmm, yes. They’ve perfected a slew of breakfast favorites with Swedish spins and nuances, burritos, omelets, benedicts; but their version of biscuits and gravy takes the fricken cake. It’s the best I’ve ever had the pleasure of stuffing into my all too active mouth. It’s a happy marriage of an eggs benedict and a traditional biscuits n sausage gravy, consisting of a flaky homemade biscuit, a delicious sausage patty, an expertly cooked poached egg, topped with the house sausage gravy. Most meals come with two sides and average around $10 bucks. Each entrée is so generously portioned and appeasing that it’s easy to share with a willing partner. You will not leave hungry or dissatisfied.

What has driven their success and brought foodies back for more is their famous sticky buns. I love a good homemade cinnamon roll, a lot. I even enjoy slathering that fake sugary strangeness on those rolls from the grocery store. The buns at Ann’s taste like love. Sounds like something a 600 pound sincere food addict says, food is love. But what I mean is I can see, smell, feel and taste the love that went into it. They’re special, unique, not a confusing mess, but a superbly accomplished process I couldn’t even begin to understand. They taste simple and delicious but so down-home, right out of the kitchen of my North Carolina family’s or some of my favorite pastry places in Northern Europe. I’d be happy to die drowning, stuffed like sausage, in a bathtub full of Ann Sather’s buns.

On this occasion we took visiting relatives and friends to the tiny spot on Southport Avenue, at the end of a long line of ritzy boutiques I could care less to afford, kids clothing, pet grooming, bar after bar, until a home away from home emerges just before the el station. I pride myself on providing worthwhile suggestions for restaurants or bringing the experience to you myself. I want to share what I love with those who appreciate and resonate with my enthusiasm. That’s all. To physically sit and enjoy, then see the look on others’ faces, the pleasure, the joy, the relief, is unmatched. The least I can do is encourage my fellow readers, however many that may be, to share whatever makes you feel this way, food, art, love, and hope you’ve benefited from mine in some way.

Spread the ecstasy. Explore your palate. Share with deserving people. Enjoy.

Sandwiches, Salads, Soups and Soul at Panes Bread Cafe

Ahhh, bread. So simple, yet to vital. And so easy to f*ck up. There’s some colossally shitty bread out there. You know who you are. And if your idea of good bread is of the Wonder variety then you may as well move on and read the Wal Mart blog for food recommendations. This isn’t about bread though, this is also about sandwiches. Bread is very obviously the essential component in a sandwich, without it, it’d be like a hug with no arms. Apologies to my amputee friends out there. Panes bread cafe is a little Chicago gem run by a group of feisty European women. Clearly, I love them. We have the same cynicism for lesser food and the same enthusiasm for real quality food and simple ingredients. A great sandwich should not be hard to come by, but in many ways it is. Panes is attempting to make that craving for a mind-blowing sandwich an attainable reality by providing Lakeview customers with the best of the best at a great price.

Located on the 3000 block of Sheffield Ave, just south of Belmont, Panes has a small, modest sign out front, and an almost equally small operation inside. This only adds to its charm as inside is brightly painted in a beautiful Tuscan yellow, with industrial beams painted in a complimentary rustic red. It maybe sits 30 people, mostly those finding time on their lunch hour to scarf down something that will brighten their day, and their pallet. Upon approaching the counter you see a slew of freshly made breads, spanning from Spain, France, Italy and Greece inspired and cornering even the banana market. The menu is on the wall to the right and beyond selling bread, they serve appetizers, soups, salads, pastas, and of course, sandwiches.

I first had the privilege of a Panes experience about 6 months ago, when a great friend who has now left Chicago ordered it for our co-workers at my 2nd job. For $5.95 I got a large sandwich with grilled portabella mushrooms, homemade pesto, tomato, fresh mozzarella on tomato bread. It also came with a side of chips. I was so amazed the bread was not soggy in the least, despite the 1.5 mile delivery length and 30-40 minute wait. It was delicious, plain and simple. I could not wait to order again. When I did, I ordered their roast beef, which is home cooked and sliced, served with avocado, spicy mayo, grilled onions and monterey jack. Oh man, so good!

Just recently I went to Panes in person. It’s even better because you can pick up fresh bread and peruse their selection of hand-crafted desserts. I’m a whore for sweets so naturally I took home one of their “monster cookies.” I’m salivating just thinking of this. It’s a large cookie, as you probably imagined, made of peanut butter, oats, M&M’s and chocolate chips. It’s fricken fantastic. This trip I picked up a Sunny California and Super Panes sandwich and we enjoyed every finger licking bite. Not a bad item in this place, just no nonsense women giving you their best. They’re my heros.

If I’m slumming and forced to be in suburban America I’ll settle for a Quizno’s or Firehouse sub, but if I’m in Chicago and I’m fortunate to have such incredible options, I’ll ride out of my way or have Panes delivered. Every. Single. Time.

They don't even have a website, so here's a link to their menu.

Raise your expectations. And standards. Quality of life is important. Especially with food. Enjoy.

O.M.G.-D.M.K.

DMK I’m observing many acronyms in my restaurant choices, not sure why. It’s purely a coincidence and this particular establishment has no full name. I’m guessing DMK is the owner’s initials or the initials of each owner, I don’t know. I also don’t care, and neither do you. DMK specializes in burgers, so vegetarians and meat-phobics beware. Nestled in between Lakeview and Lincoln Park on the 3000 block of north Sheffield, near the Wellington Brown Line stop, DMK is the perfect combination of each neighborhood, both swanky and casual, vintage and modern, lively and understated. It’s situated in a brick and mortar building with large red letters out front donning its name, boldly drawing in customers with a craving. As with many of my favorite restaurants, the brick is also exposed on the interior, the layout is narrow with tall ceilings, a mixture of four and two-top black tables, dim lit modern light fixtures and loud music. Not so loud you have to shout, but let’s just say those who refuse to wear hearing aids won’t have issues enjoying the music. Not that they’re dining in, they’re most likely asleep by the time we’re eating.

We were having one of those Tuesday night cravings for unhealthy food. The kind that would soak up remaining alcohol from the previous night, if you had any. In our case, it was soaking up alcohol and whatever else from Saturday night, so this food had some serious work to do. We braved wicked wind and rain to walk about .7 miles in order to reach our chosen burger joint. Upon entering, I was impressed and horrified by the decor and clientele, mainly because I was grossly underdressed, just gross. I had a burger joint in mind and what I found was a more of a combination of bistro and bar. I love this, I just wasn’t expecting it. We arrived around 8 and the place was hoppin, but luckily we were seated in a cozy two-top right away. It’s very Chicago or New York, where you either have to squeeze in between two tables to sit, as the seats against the wall are boothed, or you physically pull out the table to ensure there’s no drink spillage or coats dipped in food situations. I chose the squeeze option, as I like a challenge.

Great beer selection, we each had a Fat Tire for $3! That’s damn good, especially here. You can’t just have water with a burger, especially not at posh place like this. The wait staff we’re all above average adorable (I also enjoy alliteration), ours resembling Michael Cera’s ex-girlfriend from Nick and Nora’s infinite playlist. Another walked like she was auditioning for America’s Next Top Model. I’m nothing if not referencey.

Let me just relieve the beef haters and strict vegetarians right now...there’s a veggie burger, turkey burger, and salmon burger options, all very popular and highly rated. We did not opt for these options for the aforementioned reasons. And because we’re occasionally meat-eating, selfish assholes. I ordered the patty melt. It was like a heavenly version of Steak ‘n’ Shake’s frisco melt. Grass fed beef, smoked bacon (not sure what that was fed), burnt onions (holy hell in a hand basket, those were SO good!), Leroy’s Remoulade (I’m not sure I want to venture a guess there, but it was good, thousandislandy.), smoked swiss (duh!), on griddled rye bread (yowzah). So if you got through all that and still understood then well done to you. Fancy words and ingredients mean nothing. Did it taste good? Hell yes it did! Could I have eaten another one as I hoovered it in about 90 seconds? Yes, shamefully, I could have.

My partner in tasty murder that evening was Derek, the husband to my wife, and he had the #4, a burger also accompanied by bacon and cheese, but also including a fried farm egg and green chile sauce giving it a really fun kick. His was good too. Now, you can’t have burgers without fries, unless you’re some freedom hating nazi, and we’re freedom lovers proudly wearing our patriotism on our sleeves. DMK has a great selection of fries, including a basic fry, sweet potato and then some fun options you’d expect from a place of this calibre. We opted for the parmesan fries with truffle cream. They were better than they read, crunchy enough, fresh, dusted in actual parmesan shavings and the truffle cream we slathered over them like sloths was the perfect compliment. It should be mentioned here that they have home-made mac ‘n’ cheese that I had trouble resisting and I plan to order it next time. Like their burgers, it’s also highly rated and recommended.

Besides the varied selection of beers to wash down your burger, if you want to be a real American, you also order a shake. As we did. One for each of us. It was one of those nights for sure. And it was 38 degrees outside, we could not be deterred. Like everything else, it was very satisfying.

Each burger is $8, unless otherwise specified and a small order of fries, enough to feed two, is $4. With a big appetite, you’ll make it out of there spending about $25-30, not bad for a burger with a side of swank. I’ll give DMK the highest compliment I can and say, I’ll definitely be back.

D.M.K.

Eat. Drink. Eat. Eat. Gulp. Enjoy.