I was gone for nine days to Champaign and Chicago. And you know what I ate while I was there? Oh, the title gave it away.
Chicago is known for many things, one of them being deep dish pizza. I love me some pizza -- I also rewatched the original Ninja Turtles movie during this trip -- and since we don't have anything like deep dish at home, I went to town on vacation.
I had pizza for seven meals. Some of that was leftovers. Let's go over the four places I went to wolf down pizza and declare a Gene Pool winner. Each beautiful creation took anywhere from 30-45 minutes to cook.
Last Thursday. Beggar's.
Joe and I flew into Chicago -- and boy were our arms tired, knee slap -- last Thursday and before boarding a train to Champaign, we had pizza at Beggar's Pizza, where they lay it on thick.
We split a green pepper and pepperoni deep dish.
Spoiler alert, every pizza I had was amazing. This one in particular had to be eaten with a fork because it was so loaded. This shot was taken in mid-slice by Joe. High quality photography.
I ate the leftovers for lunch Friday while I watched Joe write a prep football preview.
Tuesday lunch. Pizzeria Uno.
On our second day in Chicago, we started with lunch at Chicago's first -- 1943 -- and most famous deep dish destination. It was so good last time that I remembered pretty much exactly where it was.
We each got our own individual, Joe the BBQ chicken and me the spinach-mushroom-pepperoni. It didn't disappoint and was the perfect amount of pizza for one sitting. The mushrooms were particularly tasty.
Their slogan was: We owe it all to a man and his pan.
Tuesday night. Giordano's.
When I went to Chicago with Bert and Paul in 2006, we ate at three pizza places. We each had a favorite, and mine was Giordano's.
I don't think Joe and I ate there in 2010, so I had to get another taste of the joint on this trip. I didn't want to make Joe go to two pizza places on the same day, so I looked up the closest Giordano's -- there are 40 in Chicago -- to our hostel and walked there Tuesday night.
The last customer served, I ate while the cleaning crew did its thing. But I did as the slogan suggested: get stuffed.
Yummm. Good as I remembered. I got pepperoni and mushroom, and it became dinner Thursday night as well. I was on a pizza high Tuesday night.
I didn't even care that I got turned around on the walk home and had to call Joe for directions, as my phone had died.
Wednesday night. Pizza and Oven Grinder Company.
On our previous trip to Chicago, Joe and I found this cozy, romantic establishment across the street from the site of the St. Valentine's Day Massacre, which was masterminded by one Al Capone.
It's unique because it's a pizza pot pie. You can get a half-pounder or a whole pounder. The only options after that are if you want sausage or mushroom in it. There is no pepperoni involved.
Before flipping.
After flipping. And that's a pizza pot pie. My mushrooms are what's trying to burst through the cheese.
Like last time, there was a rose on our table. Like last time, the host memorized faces instead of taking names for the waiting list. And like last time, Joe and I held hands and looked longingly into each other's eyes.
And that's my pizza journey in Chicago. I'm not going to sit here, be a food critic and make some kind of scorecard for the places based on texture, sauce, crust, service, etc.
I'll just say that Giordano's won. Congratulations. I'm sure it's an honor.
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