By Vitali Lorrenzo ( A backpacker in America) Guest Post
I arrived in Chicago on a crisp October morning, wrapped in a scarf and buzzing with jet lag. My good friend Marco—who moved here from Florence five years ago—met me at O’Hare with a grin and the kind of espresso you can only get from a battery-powered Moka pot in a rental car cupholder. “Benvenuto, fratello!” he said. “I’m taking you to try something molto speciale today.”
That “something” was the Chicago Italian Beef sandwich—a local legend I had never even heard of before landing in the Windy City. I had braced myself for deep-dish pizza, maybe a hot dog with too many rules—but a panino with juicy beef, soaked in broth, served with spicy peppers and dipped in its own sauce? Madonna mia, I had no idea what I was walking into.
First Bite: Love at First Dip
We pulled into a place called Al’s Beef, one of the city’s oldest Italian Beef joints. Inside, it smelled like Sunday at nonna’s—onions, garlic, roasted meat. I watched as the cook sliced thin shavings of beef, layered them into a long crusty roll, added sautéed sweet peppers and hot giardiniera, then—eccolo!—dipped the entire sandwich into a shimmering pan of broth. I blinked.
“You’re supposed to eat it like this,” Marco said, showing me his soaked sandwich, fingers already shiny with jus. I took a bite. The bread was soft but still had a backbone. The beef—thin, tender, garlicky. And the broth? Like the concentrated soul of a Sunday roast. I was stunned. “Cavolo, this is… incredible.”
A Taste of Two Worlds
Chicago Italian Beef, as I came to learn, was born from Italian immigrants who settled in Chicago in the early 1900s. With limited money, they used cheaper cuts of meat, sliced them thin, and simmered them in a broth (known as “gravy”) to make it stretch for weddings and family gatherings. It’s comfort food, but also street food. Humble and rich. Italian in soul, American in swagger.
It reminded me of our bollito misto back home, but streetwise—like if a Florentine butcher opened a sandwich cart in a back alley of Napoli.
The Recipe: How to Make Chicago Italian Beef at Home 🇺🇸❤️🇮🇹
Here’s the version I scribbled down after begging a friendly local butcher for tips (and after annoying Marco with a dozen taste tests). It takes time—but like any Italian will tell you, le cose buone richiedono tempo.
Ingredients (for 6 sandwiches):
For the beef:
- 3–4 lbs chuck roast or top round roast
- 1 tbsp olive oil
- 4 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 tbsp dried oregano
- 1 tbsp dried basil
- 1 tsp crushed red pepper flakes
- 1 tsp ground black pepper
- 1 tsp salt
- 1 tbsp onion powder
- 4 cups beef stock (homemade if possible)
- 1 cup water
- 1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce
For serving:
- 6 Italian-style hoagie rolls (sturdy enough to hold juice)
- Giardiniera (spicy pickled vegetables)
- Roasted sweet bell peppers (optional, but delizioso)
Instructions:
1. Sear the beef.
In a large Dutch oven, heat olive oil over medium-high heat. Sear the beef on all sides until browned. Remove and set aside.
2. Build the broth.
In the same pot, add garlic, oregano, basil, onion powder, salt, pepper, and red pepper flakes. Sauté briefly until fragrant—about 1 minute. Add beef stock, water, and Worcestershire. Stir.
3. Slow cook.
Return the beef to the pot. Cover and simmer gently for 3 hours, until the meat is fork-tender. Alternatively, you can roast it in the oven at 325°F (160°C).
4. Chill and slice.
Remove the beef and let it cool completely—ideally overnight in the fridge. Slice it very thinly (almost shaved), like prosciutto cotto. This is key.
5. Reheat in broth.
Return sliced beef to the warm broth. Let it soak and reheat gently for 20–30 minutes.
6. Assemble the sandwich.
Split your rolls, layer in the warm beef, top with sweet peppers and a generous spoon of giardiniera. For the authentic experience, use tongs to dip the sandwich—whole or partially—into the broth. (Yes, it’s messy. No, you don’t eat this on a first date.)
Final Thoughts: A Sandwich Worth Flying For
In Rome, we have porchetta. In Naples, there’s panino napoletano. But in Chicago? The Italian Beef reigns supreme. It’s a sandwich with heart—a tribute to the Italian spirit of resourcefulness and flavor, transformed into an American icon.
As I sat on Marco’s balcony, fingers greasy, mouth tingling from pickled peppers, I looked out over the skyline and whispered to myself:
“Questo… questo è amore.”
