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.

Oh My Crust!

Oh my Crust! Pequod's! Three words: Chicago. Style. Pizza. This evokes a variety of reactions from people who, for whatever reason, claim some sort of expertise on the consumption and critiquing of pizza. There’s the classic debate, NYC v. Chicago, for many things other than pizza, but food seems to be on top of that list. I’ll come right out and say right now that I typically prefer New York style pizza, but as a foodie I find myself loving pizza in all forms, and I crave Chicago pizza strongly. It’s a very specific desire that only this style pizza can fulfill, and in my humble opinion only one establishment can truly satisfy. Pequod’s.

Yep, Pequod’s pizza. Strange name, even stranger meaning. Something to do with Moby Dick, the logo is a whale with a thong over it’s face? Try finding the metaphor or symbolism in that. Regarding pizza. No clue. As I’ve so eloquently stated before, I don’t care. And neither do you. I’m sure there’s some literature out there with the story, but I was too concerned smelling and tasting delicious pizza to care. The pizza is beyond excellent, and that’s all any of us really care to know.

Winning the genetic lottery as I did, I was born with Italian blood coursing through my otherwise American veins. I also lived in the blessed country for three years. This gave me the built in right to judge food on such a ridiculously high standard and therefore have pure disdain for anything mediocre and everything cliche. Sure, I’m cliche in many ways, but not with food. You’ll never hear me enthusiastically revisiting a delicious Pizza Hut pie I consumed, or McDonald’s hamburger, or Subway sandwich. Mom n Pop, individually run establishments are always %100 better than any chain. Of course this is a matter of “taste”, but I’ll just say I’m confident you as the reader can trust my taste because of the standards my family so lovingly instilled. I know pizza, trust me. And thanks to a local friend, we were lead in the right direction, straight to Pequod’s. Ask a local, always.

So I’ve had Uno’s, Lou Malnati’s, Gino’s and Giordano’s. All are well known pizza places here in Chicago with multiple locations and an underlying rivalry. Similar to Pat’s and Gino’s cheesesteak in Philly, all claim to have the #1 best pan pizza here in Chicago. To all I call bullshit. You’ll enjoy yourself, don’t get me wrong. I’m not a snob. In a real fatty moment I can slather garlic butter all over Papa John’s and force it down my gullet, but this is about quality, an experience, something you won’t forget. Having family in Philly, speaking for them I know there are better cheesesteaks than the famous Pat’s or Gino’s. And the same can be said for Chicago.

Pequod’s has two locations, on N Clybourn Ave, between Webster and Greenview, in the neighborhood DePaul, western Lincoln Park, so college kids are abound and certainly a large part of the clientele in this place. The other is in a suburb called Morton Grove, won’t be trekking out there any time soon. It’s essentially a sports bar. Plenty of flat screens to watch any Chicago team currently playing, a decent sized bar and surrounding booths on two levels. It’s always busy, but you won’t ever have to wait too long. Pan (deep dish) pizzas take a good 45 minutes to cook, so you have the option of placing your order while still waiting for a table and I highly recommend you do that. As soon as you smell the cheese and sauce combination and catch a glimpse of the beautiful masterpiece you will be ruthless in your pursuit. Grab one of Chicago’s many delicious local brews, something of a Goose Island variety perhaps.

I’m choosing to discuss the pan pizza, because I’ve visited Pequod’s 3-4 times now and I’ve never wanted anything else. It should be said; however, that they do offer thin crust. So order that if you must. I’ll be reviewing thin crust eateries soon. After 45 minutes of painful anticipation, a deep dish consiglieri will bring your pizza, place the pan on a thick, wooden cutting board, and cut through that crunchy thick crust himself and place it on your plate. I most often opt for mushrooms and fresh tomato on top of the cheese, but you can add any combination of fresh toppings, meat, veggie, or cheese. Dust the top with a little parmesan and you’re good to go.

What makes this pizza such a stand-out is the crust, as is often the case with any type of pizza. With deep dish it's essential. Pequod’s crust is buttery and carmelized and thick, but never soggy, never succumbing to the tall layers of cheese, sauce and whatever else you’ve chosen to challenge it with. You fork and knife this pizza, which may throw you off, but it’s worth it. It’s more than a pizza. It’s a visceral experience. The cheese is gooey and smooth, the sauce savory and not too sweet or overwhelming, and the extras are top quality, but they all pale in comparison to the crust. It’s so crunchy that it has syllables when you bite. C-c-c-crunch! Not simply, crunch! Like any impeccable pie, the crust is almost crumbly when you bite, but hugs and supports it’s ingredients valiantly.

When we have visitors here in Chicago, everyone wants a Chicago style dog and Chicago style pizza. And while most are ignorant enough to want Uno’s, my judgmental ass won’t let that happen. They’ll be visiting Pequod’s if I can help it, and they’ll slap me they’re so satisfied. I’m still a lover of all pizzas, thin crust usually winning out, and it should be stated here that this pizza is not the best left over. But stuffing yourself with a fresh, just out of the oven deep dish Pequod’s pizza will be nothing less than memorable. I hope you get the chance to eat here.

Pequod's

Bite. Chew. Crunch. Mmmm. 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.

Now that you're finished giving up something, eat this...C.B.A.!

C.B.A. Chicago Bagel Authority. Enough said. Oh. My. God. I know what you’re thinking, “bagels? really? boring.” Rest easy because it’s not simply a bagel place. Oh no, it’s so much more than a bagel place. Steamed bagel sandwiches. That’s right. Steamed, mmm, such a sexy word. Steam. I’m getting hungry again and I’m fairly certain I’ve yet to digest my last sandwich from this blessed place. We first got wind of this place by walking the wrong direction on Armitage attempting to meet friends for dinner at a nearby tapas restaurant. Seeing the sandwiches being prepared through the window was enough to stop us in our tracks and set the intention to visit the establishment soon. And so we did.

C.B.A., as it’s affectionately known to Chicago residents, is situated just steps west from the Armitage (New location on Belmont! Right near the EL station) Brown/Purple line stop, in the heart of Lincoln Park. Probably one of the most charming areas of the city, with beautiful Amsterdam-like architecture, tree-lined streets, and a plethora of boutiques and restaurants, to suit any taste. Just upon entering C.B.A. you’re greeted with a waft of delicious smells you can almost taste. Meat and cheese mainly, but other goodies as well. It has a very casual charm, exposed brick lining the interior, a few rectangular high tables toward the back and a couple cozy booths perched next to the windows, mostly inhabited by moms and toddlers. Avoid it weekday late mornings, later afternoon is best as that’s when the children and moms are napping. There are random photos, drawings, and subtle odes to the Ohio State University Buckeyes, as the owners are from Ohio. No need to worry Wolverine fans, it’s a subtle homage, almost lazy in it’s execution, which adds to it’s charm, so damn casual. The staff is very friendly, at any time of day, and are composed of mostly young, relaxed bagophiles. There’s some cute ladies for the men to enjoy and one AHdorable gentleman, who despite being with my husband I make a bee line for each visit. C.B.A. is no doubt ripe with delicious meat.

The menu is broken down by the type of meat, including 7-10 veggie options that hold their weight against any meaty selection. There’s also a breakfast menu and the option to simply pick a basic bagel, prepared in-house, including a wide variety of spreads and bagels with specific flavors, whatever you fancy. There are easily 50 sandwich choices, all come steamed, and they’re described in chicken scratch on 3 large chalk boards behind the employees. For the convenience of those with regular sight, or worse, they provide menus at the bar where the sandwich artists line up and you simply let them know you’re selection, pay the cashier, be sure to tip and go anxiously wait for what will be a life-changing sandwich.

Now, at this point I’ve had at least 10 of their sandwiches, including breakfast, veggie, and at least one from each meat column. None of them, zero, have been bad or even mediocre. All have made me make the “O” face. Today, for the first time, I ordered a sandwich I’d had in the past. It’s called the Messy Katy. It’s not even on the chalk board! It’s turkey, sliced ever so thin and piled generously with avocado, tomato, sprouts, cream cheese, honey mustard, and here’s the kicker, steamed on Bialy. What’s Bialy? Those familiar with bigger cities, New York in particular, will be well acquainted with baily and all its glory. The shortest way to describe it is a bagel hooked up with an english muffin and had nothing short than the bread equivalent of a Brangelina type child. There’s no hole, its not steamed and then baked, just baked. I think. Ah, well. It’s the perfect texture and flavor for a sandwich, slightly salty, soft enough, not too thick for the sandwich and it’s co-habitants. All sandwiches have adorably clever names like the DePaul Ruben, Hide the Salami, the Ritz and so on. Again, all are highly satisfying, cleverly designed, the flavors complimenting each other perfectly and the accompanying bagel flavor perfectly snuggling and rounding out each bite. Most importantly, they’re made with love. The employees seem sincerely jazzed about their little hole in the wall and love to share in their customer’s enthusiasm.

The good people of C.B.A. gave their labor of love a name befitting of their product. They are the authority on bagels here in Chicago. We’ve made it a weekly trip. They have free wifi for customers, a cooler of tasty beverages to wash down your even tastier grub, and a selection of high quality potato chips with accompanying flavors, and for real fatty’s like myself, uber fantastic rice krispie treats, smore cereal bars, and large chocolate chip cookies. You can consume the food pyramid in one sitting and I encourage you to do so. Prices range from 5-7 bucks a sandwich, well worth it. They have a punch card for frequent customers. I hit my free sandwich milestone today.

Everyone’s life could be steamier. This is a great place to start. Enjoy.