52 Italian beef joints. 52 weeks. No mercy…read more
And for our inaugural investigation, we traveled to Asti Italian Deli in Bensenville, where apparently the local population has been keeping a delicious little secret from the rest of us.
Pulled into the parking lot and the place was packed. People heading through the door like somebody was handing out free money. A little line inside. Good sign. In Chicago, you follow the crowds, especially when they're hungry and nobody's smiling until they get their food.
Walked in and the place is gorgeous. High ceilings, beautiful Italian and Chicago decor, everything done to the nines. Somebody spent some serious money making this joint look nice.
Terrific. Wonderful. Mazel tov.
I didn't drive here to admire the wallpaper. I'm here for business.
I scanned the menu and immediately realized I was going to have a problem. Subs, meatballs, pasta, all kinds of beautiful things calling my name. But I had a job to do. A solemn obligation to the people of Chicagoland.
I needed that yummy, yummy, juicy, juicy Italian beef.
Ordered my usual. Cheesy beef with mozzarella, hot giardiniera, sweet peppers, and EXTRA EXTRA dipped.
BAPTIZE THAT SANDWICH!
The cashier didn't blink. Repeated the order perfectly. Clearly, I was dealing with professionals.
Also grabbed fries and a soft drink. Fries were fresh-cut and excellent. Unfortunately, no cheese sauce.
An unfortunate development. I've notified the appropriate authorities. We'll move on.
Then came the main event.
I unwrapped this magnificent bastard and immediately knew we were starting off hot. Enormous portion. Generous peppers. Beautifully assembled. Cheese melted perfectly. Gravy everywhere it belonged.
The first bite?
OH MY ZEUS.
Ladies and gentlemen, we have ourselves an Italian beef.
The flavor was exceptional. Tender, delicious beef, outstanding hot and sweet peppers, perfectly incorporated mozzarella, and gravy working its way through the entire operation like it owned the building.
And the bread?
BAPTIZED.
I'm talking full immersion. Not a little sprinkle of holy water on the forehead. This sandwich got the complete religious experience. Catholic, Greek Orthodox, and a second dunk just to make sure the paperwork went through.
Juice everywhere. Greasy fingers. Every bite soaked with flavor.
And somehow, the damn thing held together!
That, my friends, is craftsmanship. Anybody can throw a sandwich into a bucket of gravy. The trick is getting it back out while it's still legally recognizable as a sandwich.
Asti nailed it.
Every component worked together. Nothing overpowered anything else. No dry pockets, no disappointing bites, no excavating through bread to locate the beef. Just one beautiful, harmonious, gravy-soaked Chicago institution.
OFFICIAL EXTRA DIPPED RATINGS:
Overall Italian Beef: 9.1/10
Baptism: 5/5
Giardiniera: 5/5
Sweet Peppers: 5/5
For perspective, anything above an 8 on my scale is REALLY good. A 9 means you've entered sacred territory. I'm not handing out 9s like Halloween candy just because somebody owns a meat slicer.
This beef earned every decimal.
If I lived in Bensenville, I'd be here multiple times a week. By the end of the month, the employees would know my order, my family history, and probably ask why I wasn't there yesterday.
I fully intend to return and investigate the rest of that menu. Purely in the interest of journalism, of course.
Asti Italian Deli, you beautiful bastards.
9.1 out of 10.
The bar has officially been set.
BEAR DOWN. BEEF UP. EXTRA DIPPED.