Apologies

I've been gone so long!

Chris and I went back to Portland, this time together. We both loved it. I got back on the train the day after we flew back here, to go to my mom's. And that was lots of fun, too. I'm really blessed to have the type of family that likes to sit around and laugh (on both sides). I only have two first cousins in the whole world (how un-Italian-like, and they're on the non-Italian side of my family), and they are funny, funny people. I feel very fortunate.

Anyway, I have pics of Portland (again), and I don't know what-all, since I haven't been able to face the prospect of unloading my camera and phone of all they contain. Tomorrow and Tuesday I work two long days (that's okay considering I have taken so much vacation -- the practice has been slow, anyway), and then off to Bourbonnais for Thanksgiving. My boss is giving us each a turkey for our families, so I will be hauling that down in a cooler for Wilma and I to cook!

Anyway, I will post today, and my apologies again if I am in and out all week (or out, mostly.) The funny thing is, I am up to a record number of hits-per-day and growing, so it doesn't seem to matter so much whether I am here of not. :)

Talk to you soon!

Gina

Jaenicke's Drive In

When I was in high-school, I went over to my friend Lori's house. Her older sister was settling in to some take-out food. "Watcha eatin'?" I asked. "Sauce buns" she said. "What's a sauce bun?" I asked. She looked at me mid-bite like I was a frigging lunatic. "You've never had a sauce bun??" to which I replied, "No. Never heard of them." She wolfed down her dinner and hauled me out the door, straight back to Jaenicke's Drive In, where I had my first taste of heaven, sans hot dog.



Jaenicke's (pronounced yah-nick-eez) is right down the road from where I grew up, so I dunno why I'd never tried their food before. But I've had it a lot since. The owner of the place used to come into the animal hospital where I worked, and I first heard about "the feud" from her. There is a Jaenicke's Drive In in Kankakee, and the one near me in Bourbonnais. The Jaenickes, sadly, have apparently split into two warring factions that do not speak to one another. Consequently, everyone in the area swears that either the Bourbonnais branch, or the Kankakee one is far superior. A cross-town rivalry, if you will. Personally, I went to the Kankakee one (also called Jaenicke's on Wall) once or twice (with my friend Carrie, who swore it was the better of the two), and I found the food to be served a bit more sloppily, and I just felt it wasn't as good. I just found out that there is a Jaenicke's in Momence, too, but I don't know anything about that one... Maybe you just like the one closer to where you live, I dunno. The truth of the matter is, all the Jaenicke's joints are pretty awesome -- but I'm loyal to my Bourbonnais peeps. I just love what comes out of that joint. It is always consistent, perfect, and delicious.

We went to Jaenicke's on a pretty gray, unusually cold summer day. But you know what? Sauce buns on sale? That brings a summer day right into my mouf.



So what is a sauce bun, you might ask? It is a soft white hot dog bun, filled with Jaenicke's amazing hot dog chili. Of course they have hot dogs available if you like, but I like the warm, uninterrupted softness of the sauce bun. The chili at Jaenicke's is very sweet and mild -- more like barbecue sauce than chili. Cheese is optional, but trust me, you want that option. It's just plain old nacho sauce right out the jar, like Cheez Whiz. To me, the cheese and chopped onions are a necessity, as is a good old Green River to go along with it (to this day, Jaenicke's is the only place I've ever had Green River soda. It is available in other places, but it just doesn't seem right for me to drink it anywhere else).



Chris got a chili dog, and some corn dog nuggets. Hot and dee-licious.



I got my beloved sauce buns, tucked into the box with stapled wax paper, as usual. Which is great, because it facilitates me licking the cheese sauce off the top.



Jaenicke's is closed in the winter months, starting in October I believe, and re-opening in spring. I usually only get back to eat there once a year, but nothing says springtime quite like opening day baseball, and that first bite of Jaenicke's.

Mojito Chicken, Nonno, and His Steak

Today I thought I would begin with pictures of a very special man: Chris' Nonno (grandpa). His name is Irio. He lives with Chris' parents, in his own little "apartment" in the downstairs area, with his own kitchen. He is adorable. Enjoy him:



My husband's Nonno (though I call him that, too) is almost 88 years old, and he still makes seasoning mix for us, fresh bread, and baccalà (which I believe is the only seafood he eats). He waters all the extensive landscaping at the house, walks every day, mows the lawn, rakes leaves, shovels snow... And probably a ton else. He doesn't have to do any of that, of course. In fact, Chris' parents have been totally unsuccessful in stopping him. He is incredibly stubborn, and just as cute and sweet at the same time with a light and merry sense of humor. I see him in my husband all the time, especially in his little periods of inflexibility about what I would consider "small things," like the schedule of events that you might have on a day off. On the days when most people would plan nothing and "go with the flow" (or even stay in their pajamas all day), Nonno wants to know, exactly what time is dinner? And Chris is grousing because we may be five minutes late to it. And you can't get very annoyed because, well, they're both just so dang cute.

Unlike Chris, Nonno is a picky eater. I'm not just saying that because on my side of the family, we cram things in our mouth first, and ask about edibility later. There is a pretty narrow range of things he will eat. When we grill out, he wants steak. Just steak. Keep away from him with the fish or the chicken (here you can see his steak in the back.)



And he always has some kind of potato or pasta, bread with dinner, and definitely white wine. And if you're not questioning the validity of all that you knew about healthy eating by now, you should be.

God bless you, Nonno. We love you, see you soon!

**As a side note, the chicken we grilled here on Father's Day was a concoction of some chicken breasts that I marinated in margarita mix (tequila included), coarse salt, pepper, olive oil, and mint for a sort of "Mojito Chicken." It was very good, as was the salmon that Wilma seasoned, and we ate with fresh homemade pesto sauce (with basil from her garden) and pasta. And Nonno's steak looked pretty good, too...

Chicken Parmigiana

My favorite places to eat in my hometown, as a kid and as a teenager, included some of the following (in no particular order):

• Pee-Wee Golf (for sliders)


• Hardee's (for frozen cookie dough)


• Jiffy's (now Bill's Diner on Kennedy Drive, a great place itself) where you used to be able to phone in your order from your table to the kitchen -- also, they had a jukebox at each table


• Monical's Pizza


• Aurelio's Pizza (my favorite still, thank goodness for the one in Addison)


• Chicago Dough Pizza


• Woolworth's (eat chicken nuggets, homemade pie and a cherry Coke with REAL cherries at the counter, then look at the parakeets and the Colorforms all in the same place! Jaffee Drug still has a soda fountain/counter open...)


• Jesse's Fine Dining (champaign chicken, seafood bar, or a black-cherry glazed bird -- fancy)


• Hunan Chen on Court Street


• Mickey's Gyros -- which reminds me of Jen's little brother Jason going, "TWOGYROPLAATES!" like he's yelling to the back of the kitchen


• Davidson's West on Court -- a favorite of the Kankaee Valley Theatre crowd in my later years


• Blue's Cafe -- Dad used to meet his buddies there, and bring me sometimes, too. Great food, still kicking.


• Howard Johnson's for hot dogs with buttered, toasted buns, or fried clams. For my first grade birthday dinner, I selected Howard Johnson's.


• Hunk's, for clown pancakes


• Lum's with mom, where I always ordered the French dip sandwich and stared at the Picasso and Matisse prints on the walls


• The Golden Bear, and I swear mom used to bring me to a Sambo's, a restaurant chain with perhaps innocuous, yet subtly racist overtones... Maybe that was in Carbondale?


• The Redwood Inn smogasbord... we came up with the word "bevam?" that expressed how they guy at the end of the line always asked "beef or ham?" in a quick, mashed-together way


• Mother McGee's, where my parents could get cocktails, and I had escargot for the first time


• Jaenicke's for sauce buns, and I'm sorry, but the one in Bourbonnais is better


• Boz Hot Dogs, for Italian beef, not hot dogs (you go to Jaenicke's or HoJo's for that!)


• Poor Boy Restaurant on Court (Dad knew the owner, and she'd drop off beans and cornbread or shrimp po' boys at the house)


• Dionne's in Momence (I always felt so fancy, and imagined my future life would be eating at places like this every week)


• Ryan's Pier in Manteno


• Sam n' Ella's on the river... and if you're not from the area, seriously, that was the name! They had great food and and unbeatable view.


• Town and Country, the red building out on Rte. 17. We used to get shish-kebab and duck there, or liver with onions. Dee-licious.


• Council Table (though I always just got cereal)

I'm sure there are more that have slipped my mind... a lot of these places have been closed for years. Does anyone have any memories to add? I would love to hear them... I plan on doing individual posts on some of these in the future.

Anyway, none of these places compared to "The Little Corporal" restaurant. The Little Corporal was a Napoleonic-themed diner in the front of the building, with drum-shaped table lights and French soldier figures throughout. I kid you not. You could sit in a generous booth, or at the large counter in the center of the diner. As you walked towards the back, you first encountered the restrooms. (I can't vouch for the men's room, but the ladies' was painted bright pink.) In the rear of the building, there was more of a nightclub atmosphere, with runner lights and a piano bar. (And those rumors that Barry Manilow got his start, and got fired from the Little Corporal? Well, those aren't rumors, friends.) The seating in the rear was my absolute favorite: striped Napoleonic tents over each private booth, with the names of different French generals, and pennants at the top. Many were the times my father sweet-talked the lunch-shift waitresses into letting us sit back there in the daytime (turning into rather long lunches when they subsequently forgot we were there.) The place was too good to be true.

I always ordered the same thing at the Little Corporal: the veal parmigiana. It came on top of spaghetti with meat sauce, and lost beneath a blanket of mozzarella cheese. Early in my high school years, I found out how veal is raised, and I've never eaten it since. The last time I had veal was probably at the Little Corporal.

Now, when I get that craving for the Napoleonic/Italian/trashy diner fare of my youth, I make it with chicken. (I know, I play favorites with my meat.) I pound the cutlets, dip them in flour, then egg, then breadcrumb and fry them up. Then I place them atop a mountain of pasta in a baking dish.



Then, I load it with enough cheese to fill up the Kankakee Valley, and bake it with some foil loosely over the top. If the cheese isn't bubbly and golden enough after everything is heated through, I take off the foil and broil it for a few.



Then I simply make a general's tent with the bedsheets, and I'm ready for my stroll down memory lane... Quite a FEW strolls, and Chris and I can separate this into several meals and eat chicken parmigiana all week long.



Sadly, the Little Corporal is now some pizza place, and I think part of it is called Liquor World or something. When the restaurant closed, I skipped the opportunity to attend an auction for some of the items, and I have since seen a few things show up on Ebay... I do still have a coffee-cup shaped magnet from the Little Corporal that was on our refrigerator for many, many years. I had it in my pocket when I went to the Barry Manilow concert last year at the Allstate Arena just in CASE I got called up on stage and could get him to sign it. Didn't happen.

Oh well... I'll always have my memories (and the parmigiana.)