Dear Johnnie's

Apparently, Johnnie's Beef in Elmwood Park is legendary.

Back in the good ol' days, when Frank Sinatra was around, he made it a point to get out to the suburbs to hit up the little sandwich shop every time he visited Chicago.

Or so my dad says.

When Johnnie's came up in relation to a story I was writing for the paper, I asked my editor what the big deal was.

His email reply: "It's JOHNNIE'S!"

{Actually, he spelled it with a "y" at the end, not an "ie." I'd hate to be accused of misquoting.}

The caps made me a little nervous. Was he angry with me? Had I committed some cardinal sin in not knowing the story on a greasy spoon?


He wasn't really mad. But I'd say it's tough to describe the charm of Johnnie's to someone who hasn't been there.

I am no longer that someone. And I dragged Alex along as a witness. He's glad I did.

Now, I'm not one to go chasing all over town for a big beef sandwich. And French fries, you can get anywhere, right?

But there was just something so nostalgic about standing in a line that stretched out the front door, waiting to reach the counter where a cashier periodically yelled out orders to two workers running around behind him. "Beef!" he yelled. "Combo!" and two sandwiches materialized in front of us. "Ice!" and our waxy paper cup was filled with lemon Italian ice.

We carried our grub outside and sat at one of the picnic tables in the sun to enjoy the feast. The Yelpers don't lie -- the bun is a little on the soggy side, but that's only because the beef is so juicy. Alex and I split a side of fries, which came old-school McDonald's style in a little paper pocket. And the ice, oh my Lord, was the best Italian ice I've ever tasted. Hands down. And I was something of a slush connoisseur as a child.

It came with one of those straws with a little spoon at the end, and was garnished with frozen lemon wedges.

So, I finally made it to Johnnie's, after a year of my dad pestering me to do so. And let me just say, the rumors are true. It's just as good as everyone says it is.

I think with a week and a half left in town, we have plenty of time for a return visit. Or two.