Judge
Vardigan
Summer
2002
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Illinois
Amtrak it while you still can. The ride's only five hours from Ann Arbor,
and you avoid the Chicago traffic. As for the füd ON the train, I
cannot say. Its rating would be undefined, or maybe empty set -- I've
been out of high school a long time. Anyway, I didn't try it. Saw it though,
and it didn't look good.
Deboarding at historic
Union Station, I walked in July's oven heat through intermittent rain
and frequent gusts of dust from what looked and sounded like the jackhammering,
dirt-lifting, craning, dozing, and wholesale reconstruction of downtown
Chicago, encountering closed sidewalks everywhere I turned. It didn't
help that I had no map, and seem to lack that vocal chord that asks for
directions. I was in pursuit of a Chicago Dog, and on the advice of Jane
and Michael Stern's Roadfood book,
I was aiming for Gold Coast Dogs (2
N. Riverside Plaza), a supposedly legendary doghouse.
 When
I finally arrived, backpack epoxied to my back with sweat, I discovered
that Gold Coast Dogs is in a mini-mall. I located Gold Coast wedged between
a Something Bad and Something Worse, I don't remember exactly, but let's
say Bath & Body Works and...Sbarro. Gold Coast's interior: Gleaming
white, wincing white, and not a patron in sight. On the walls though,
many accolades, which I guess were encouraging. Of course, I also thought,
who knows where they're from. After all, Füd Court reviews can be
seen in San Francisco restaurant windows. Not exactly reputable, but people
probably read them and possibly believe them. (Like those reviews you
see in the paper for crummy movies like A.I.: "Oscar with a bullet!
The year's first knock-out!" Raves Robert Mitchell of the Bemidgi
Post-Gazette-Star-Press-Herald-Daily-Times. Tribune.)
Behind the counter
the workers were sharing some laugh of all laughs. A laugh they will look
back on later as one of the best of their lives. Apparently at my expense,
because a quick hush fell over them as I approached. When I ordered, the
kid replied, "Are you sure?" after everything I said. This seemed
ominous. I was definitely sure that $2.99 for a CHI Dog, fries, and drink
("Cherry Coke, please."..."Are you sure?") was a bargain.
The dog came with your traditional Chicago fixings: peppers, tomato, pickle
spear, relish, mustard, sprinkle of celery salt. It was acceptable but
I've had better at Moishe's, Red Hot Lovers in Ann Arbor, and elsewhere.
I didn't deem it worth the sweat, misdirection, and bulldozers.
Noodles &
Company
930 Church St.
Evanston, IL
Map
This Restaurant
Here I ate with by-now-newlyweds
and reader-eaters Stephanie Blackburn and Tim Freeth, along with their
friend and bridesmaid Kathleen, a recent transplant to San Francisco and
therefore soon to be an avid reader-eater. This place reminded me of Frisco
(yeah I'm calling it that!), as it capitalizes on the current hot thing
around here: noodles in a bowl. Everywhere you turn there's a Thai Noodle
House in this town. Best of, King of, Sonofa, etc. Noodles & Company
brings this trend to the Midwest, where they have restaurants in four
states. There's nothing spectacular about it, but you can expect a solid,
filling bowl of Pad Thai or Indonesian Peanut Saute noodles for about
five bucks. Tim Freech (as he is usually referred to in print) noted their
serving of water in huge glasses, a practice he believes should be more
widespread.
 Magz
Breakfast-n-Lunch Xpress
111 S. Clinton
Chicago, IL
Map
This Restaurant
In a last-ditch try
for a better Chicago Dog experience, I wandered around near the train
station just before leaving town, searching storefronts for signs of hot
dogs inside. I found Magz, located in a food court (no relation) type
of space just around the corner from Union Station. The menu's claim --
"MAGZ IZ REALLY COOKIN' BREAKFAST W/ 3 GRILLS" -- appeared to
be true. This place satisfies a steady line of nearby toilers, featuring
everything from burgers to omelettes to gyros to polies to corned beef.
I got the Magz Red Hot for $2.75, with fries. I had a good feeling walking
out with my Styrofoam, but witness the trepidation (photo) as I feared
another lackluster wiener. The first bite cast out all fear. I ate on
a curb out of earshot of construction with relish and mustard falling
on the concrete and the bad Gold Coast feeling falling there too. Yes,
this was a better dog, and I could get back on Amtrak to pass through
towns like Niles and Dowagiac without regret or self-loathing.
Next stop: Wisconsin
in the white Chevy Malibu.
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