 Herm's Palace
I recently moved back to Chicago after more than a decade in Los Angeles, following a terrible scandal in which I accused myself of sexual harassment, and had to resign from my job at The Jim Hanson Company. In some ways this was a blessing, as, in terms of places to work, The Jim Hanson Company was certainly no Jim Henson Company. Plus, I had stopped seeing how the world was benefitting from our signature miniscule dildos.
Being such a major Chicago food fan (that's a polite way of saying "compulsive eater"), going so many years without a steady supply makes returning here seem like a fever dream. Italian Beefs an Pizza Puffs on seemingly every corner! I would imagine this is similar to how slot-machine fiends feel when their feet hit the tattered carpet of McCarron Airport. I was hell-bent on a meal with which to welcome myself back. But where? Chicago has plenty of greasy spoons, and most are serviceable, but I needed one that was special. But of course! Herm's Palace.
Herm's is just great, period. The very welcoming staff provides the kind of hospitality you won't get in too many joints like this—for example, you pay after you eat, who does that?!? What is this, Le Francais? But it's this kind of detail that makes your visit feel right at home, right down to the multiple arcade games in the back corner. I'm assuming your home, like mine, is a full-scale replica of the "Silver Spoons" mansion.
They really do it right here; clearly they care about the details. The beef and gravy are homemade, and the sweet peppers are absolutely delicious. The sandwich came perfectly wrapped in paper that held the juice in, so it looked like these would travel better than your typical beef sandwich. But I wasn't travelin', I was devourin'. This thing was gone in moments.
So frickin' good. Herm's set the bar high for my return to Chicago food. And the great thing is, I have a trunk full of minature dildos I can use as stents if I ever eat too much!
Review by Foy Cartoona, October 2018 |
Italian Beef with sweet and hot peppers, plus a glass of water—$6.85. I didn't even have to ask for the beef wet or dipped or anything—it was simply served up in a default state of perfection.