The ‘Beef’ in Brooklyn
In a city that’s hardly thought twice about the Midwest, local Chicago-style eatery demands New York’s validation
By: Ari Mehlman
The neon glow of “Vienna Beef” in the window gives away what’s inside. If you know, you know. Soggy sandwiches. Salads on hotdogs. Cheese before sauce, no slices. These foods almost make sense in this city, but there are clear cultural distinctions to be observed.“If chef sees you put ketchup on one of them hotdogs he’s gonna be tight,” said Marcia Roberts, 29 year-old Bronx native and veteran cook at Bobbi’s Italian Beef in Carroll Gardens.
We’re talking classic casual Chicago fare. This place serves by the books, but not any book a New Yorker has read. Case in point — they don’t know what an Italian Beef is. “They order it and they’re like ‘Why is the bread soggy?’ It’s supposed to be wet. New Yorkers don’t understand that.” That was Jason Lux, 45. He’s a Champagne, Illinois native — and he owns Bobbi’s of Brooklyn.
“But they’re learning,” he continued. “Once they have it they’re like ‘Wow, why haven’t I had this sandwich before?’”
Opening — Bobbi’s Italian Beef, 228 Smith St, Brooklyn NY
Picture Smith St on a sunny spring Sunday morning. Flocks of families; scooters and strollers. The childless are day-drinking. Saturday had been wet, the week was cold. But today is warm — people are out and about. The weather always seems to weigh in. Lux is hoping to bring them inside for lunch. He can always rely on a native midwesterner to stop dead in their tracks upon seeing that Vienna Beef sign (as I did, a native New Yorker / New Jerseyan. My Chicagoan mother would be proud). But if you only know Sabrett’s, Nathan’s, or Hebrew National, Lux will entice you some other way. A mention of Chicken / Meatball Parm usually does the trick. He’s a New Yorker of 22 years, after all. He knows his food, and he knows these people. So no matter who you are walking in, this place is for you. “We are a destination and a neighborhood joint,” he boasts.
Lux is making breakfast when I arrive, 30 minutes out from opening. It’s a turkey melt with hummus. He gives me a rundown for the day as I take in the decor. The walls are adorned with Chicago memorabilia. Vienna Beef weiners on everything… Illinois license plates, Chicago flags, in Lake Michigan and the hands of Chicago legend Mike Ditka. Also — the periodic table of condiments — the sole chemical formula for a Chicago dog. Any other combination will not constitute. It’s like rocket science to any regular NYC hotdog cart enjoyer.
But Lux makes it simple for himself: “I live by two rules. One, if you’re not gonna feed it to your mom, don’t serve it. Two, it’s always worth it to put a little extra rather than skimp on it.” The food he serves should satisfy — simple.
It’s 11:00 AM, 30 minutes until open. Hotdog and sandwich mise en place — Roberts is taking care of it. She is Lux’s trusty cook of five years, and longtime friend. “I can’t get rid of Marcia, she’s like my daughter,” Lux states, not joking. Roberts sometimes addresses him as ‘dad’. “How long have I been working here?” she asks. “Too long,” Lux responds lightheartedly.
One thing left to do is prep the Beef. To a Chicagoan (or regular enjoyer of FX’s “The Bear”) that’s a colloquial term. But to many customers, it’s a mystery. New York has its fabled Chopped Cheese — Chicago takes pride in the Italian Beef. I’m lucky enough to be taken down to the basement for its preparation.
It takes a day to complete the process; marinating and cooking combined. Lux unwraps two chubs of top round cut, cuts them into quarters, and places them in two hotel pans. Now for the rub. “It’s not complicated… as complicated as you want to make it,” said Lux. “See how we’re marinating this?” He pulls out an empty jug labeled “Beef Seasoning”, along with paprika, Italian seasoning, granulated garlic, black pepper, and crushed red pepper. Lux combines the spices in the jug, and proceeds to massage the mixture across the full surface area of the meat chunks. Finally, he pours in a beef stock and covers the pans. “This is going to cook for four hours, then let it rest. So the meat gets all tight — that makes it easier to slice nice and thin,” Lux explains. “Then we put it back in the jus, and steam it for another 2 hours. The amount of time that goes into it — that’s the [main] part.”
Meanwhile, service has just begun. The first order of the day is a Cheesy Beef with hot giardiniera. Roberts prepares it. The sliced beef is stuffed into a crusty roll, dipped into the broth (yes, the bread too) and topped with hot giardiniera, a medley of spicy pickled carrots, celery, and peppers. Wrap and serve. It’s a messy, but comforting experience to consume. While admittedly delicious, “…it’s very hearty for my little self,” Roberts remarked. Full disclosure, the cheesy element is not a Chicago staple. It caters to New Yorkers. Chicagoans, on the other hand, are known for adding an Italian sausage to their Beef. Enough cheese in their pizza — that will become evident.
Marcia Roberts, chef at Bobbi’s, prepares an Italian Beef sandwich with sweet peppers
Today, New Yorkers will be introduced to a more well known Chicago staple. Sundays are deep dish days. Lux shows me how it’s done. In Chicago, a deep dish spot will usually give you around 45 minutes headway on a pie. “That’s not gonna work here,” Lux says. “I can do it in around 23,” he continued. That’s the New York spirit. First, he greases the seasoned pan. In the bottom goes a handful of breadcrumbs, then the dough, stretched up the sides. You’ve just made yourself the most perfect cheese receptacle known to humanity — put as much shredded mozzarella as the pan will hold. Lux bakes this together for several minutes, till the cheese is gooey, then he adds marinara sauce and toppings. In this case, homemade pork sausage and mushrooms. The pie bakes for another 10–15 minutes, until golden brown and bubbling.
Jason Lux, owner, prepares a deep dish pizza
It might be wishful thinking to get this city to accept a Chicago-style pizza, considering all of our reservations about how such a delicacy should be prepared. A New Yorker would be unable to even eat it with their hands. Furthermore, deep dish is seldom sold in slices. But if we are being even more critical about the dish, it should be thought of more as a casserole than a slice. It’s in its own lane, but I’m not so sure this city will be quick to add another. Especially considering congestion pricing, and — er — the price of indigestion. Deep dish does some serious damage, and its food coma rivals Thanksgiving. But so, so good.
The Chicago dog, on the other hand, could take the city by storm. It’s a truly elevated version of a food that many consider either basic, suspect, or childish. “I have my hotdog diploma on the wall. I don’t mess around, okay?” These dogs are things of beauty, really. Roberts is mesmerizingly assembling them for most of the shift. She’s a whiz. First, she pulls a poppy seed bun and a frank from the steamer. After configuring the two, a pickle spear is nestled along one end, tomato slices along the other. “The biggest thing [New Yorkers] are scared about is the tomato slices,” Lux explains. “But once they have it, they’re like ‘This is really good.’” Now for the condiments: generous servings of neon-green relish and diced onions. Then goes a drizzle of yellow mustard — never ketchup — and a few sport peppers. Top with a sprinkle of celery salt, which becomes a staple flavor of the dog once you’ve had it enough times.
Roberts, as many New Yorkers, was initially skeptical of such a loaded frank. “I saw that and I was like ‘Who would put all of that on a hotdog?’ But then I tasted it and I was like ‘Oh my god. Very, very good,’” she admitted. What’s not to like? “It’s a salad on a hotdog… Your doctor is okay with it,” said Lux.
It’s taken a lot to get to this point as a business. “The whole dream was the hotdog… But it took me longer to source the fucking hotdog than it did to build this place,” he admitted begrudgingly. Every week, 60–80 pounds of wieners arrive in Brooklyn (that’s 480–720 hotdogs). They came from Chicago, via Atlanta and New Jersey. It’s truly out of the ordinary to see this much Vienna Beef so far from Lake Michigan. “If I go to Las Vegas and see a Chicago hotdog, I’m going to try it so I can bitch about it. Chicagoans are kind of like New Yorkers like that… any excuse to fluff your feathers,” said Lux.
But here we are — Bobbi’s becoming a neighborhood staple. It has been no easy task introducing the most stubborn, self-assured people (New Yorkers) to an unfamiliar cuisine with similar staples. But he’s bridging the gap. “If you ever open a business, the only way it’s going to survive is if you run it. That’s why I’m here.” “Period,” affirmed Roberts.
“I don’t do a family meal, but I let everybody eat,” said Lux. Roberts couldn’t agree more: “He lets everybody eat!!!!”
