My Friend Guido

If you were in high school, in Chicago's North Shore circa 1980, you were amazed to find that one Hollywood movie spoke directly at you. Your life was Risky Business. Even if you never played choo-choo with a hooker on the milk run of the, well it was not called the Red Line back then, you related to this movie. Fretting about colleges, your fall-back school, padding your resume with dumb activities in pursuit thereof; maxing out your parent's stereo (although me and my friends liked to make the glass shake with Led Zepplin's Dazed and Confused, not Bob Segar); raiding the bar and otherwise seeing what could be done while they still trusted you. Of course, we were never chased by a killer pimp named Guido instead of studying for a trig exam, in my all time favorite moment from the film. But now, I have my own Guido.

I just adore Club Lago. If it is not the coolest restaurant in Chicago, it is in the top five. I mentioned to Aaron D, who I dined with yesterday, that it was imperative that the city of Chicago landmark the entire interior of Club Lago. From the wooden booths, to the tile floor to the giant ugly heater, no place could be designed this perfect any more. At times, I have followed the lead of JeffB and John M with the Executive Salad. The dish that conjures up Larry Tate and three martini lunches in my mind. It is an ideal combination of saline treats. It has, however, one huge flaw. It is too tiny for my appetite, yet too expensive for my tight wallet. In other words, I could eat two, but I would never do that. So, lately, I have been searching the menu for other treats. "Old School", an infrequent Chowhound poster who eats at Club Lago nearly daily, once pushed the yankee pot roast. I made the mistake one day of trying to insert roast beef for pot roast, and now I am pretty much scared of meat and gravy at Club Lago. I could do what Old School does, compose my own dish--it is a treasure to see him in action there, "make me the veal the way I like it, with the garlic.." Maybe, though, I will stick with the Guido.

Like most things Club Lago, I am following in the footsteps of giants (as C2 might say), and it was Andy O'Neil who I first saw with Guido. Unlike me, Andy does not dissect his meal while he eats it, preferring instead to enjoy a range of discussion. Yet the look on his face convinced me to meet Guido soon. You ever go into a good Italian sammy shop, say La Milanase or JC Bombacigno's with total indecision. What appeals today. They all sound good. Well, if you are having one of those days, head over to Club Lago. The Guido combines meatballs and Italian beef and sausage and grilled onions and sweet peppers (and a nice giardinari if you ask). All of this gets smashed between two slices of D'Amato's long bread. In fact the use of D'Amato's bread would be enough of a reason to eat this sandwich, but this Italian wedding feast on a bun is pretty special regardless. Some of the component parts were better than others, the meatballs were especially good, the beef no Johnnie's, but like a lot of things in life, the sum was greater than its parts.

Me and Guido get along quite well these days.

Club Lago
331 W. Superior St
Chicago, IL
(312) 951-2849