This is quite possibly one of the most long-awaited posts ever to appear on The Traveling Spoon, but for fans of deep dish and enormously cheesy pizzas, it's worth the wait. The pies served up at Giordano's are, without exception, the most gooey, cheesy, saucy, hefty and, well, simply enormous pizzas I've ever seen. I offer this as evidence:
That mass of crust, sauce and molten cheese may have just blown your pizza-loving mind, but before I launch into my review, I have something very important to disclose: I'm not a deep dish pizza girl. I know it's a disgrace to my largely Chicago-based extended family, but I'll take a thin crust over a deep dish any day - and don't even get me started on stuffed pizzas! I love the crispness of a Neapolitan pie, and the bendy, trendy flexibility of a New York slice. I love the little bubbles that erupt from the wafer-thin crusts of wood fired pizza, and think that dough should be more than just a vehicle for sauce, veggies, and meat.
With all that in mind, you're probably wondering why I ever set foot in Giordano's, right? Well, apart from a serious case of 'When in Chicago...,' sometimes even the most devoted thin-crust lover just needs a bit more. And where better to get it than at Chicago's premier stuffed pizza eatery, Giordano's.
Although the restaurant offers other classic staples of Italian fare, the pizza is definitely the main attraction. Unlike some of the other Chicago deep dish hotspots (I won't go into the rivalries here!), Giordano's specializes in stuffed pizza - not stuffed crust, stuffed pizza.
Essentially, each pizza is a layer of buttery crust, suitably weighed down with the toppings of your choice, smothered with masses of molten cheese, topped with another layer of buttery crust and slathered with tangy-and-sweet tomato sauce. With this method, you can easily see why these bad boys are called pies!
In the very early days of The Traveling Spoon, I went on a virtual journey in search of my culinary ancestry. I told you of my love for Czech dumplings and my passion for German pastries - and I love these things, I really do, but one of the best things about traveling the world is that I've had the chance to taste all kinds of regional cuisines. I've eaten curried goat in Uganda, sampled schnitzel in Bavaria, and drunk the local wine in Spain. No matter where I go, I always find a new dish to love - and one of my Italian favorites is carbonara.
I love a good carbonara. I mean really, really love it. So much so that it was one of the last meals I ate as a single girl, before Matt and I got married. The saltiness of the pancetta, the prickle of pepper in the mouth, and the velvety way the egg just barely clings to the pasta - perfection!
Okay, so it may not win any beauty prizes, but just let your tastebuds be the judge!
Since I don't typically eat a lot of pasta, I've always treated the dish as a rare treat - until now. By substituting spaghetti squash for the usual pasta, I've transformed the dish from a somewhat guilty pleasure into a meal fit for everyday. So often I find myself sharing new or unusual recipes on the blog and forgetting all about my old favorites. I'm working on changing that and this recipe is a good start - it's such a favorite that I've actually eaten it three times in the past couple of weeks!
This is a bit of a long post, but stick with it! It's definitely a feel-good story (and who doesn't like those this time of year?), with a couple of fun videos...and it features pizza - what more could you want?
It's a little after 2pm on a Saturday and we've just caught the tail-end of the lunch crowd at Nick's Pizza & Pub in Crystal Lake, IL. Though it's still pretty busy inside - the day's nonstop drizzle is doing little to keep loyal patrons away - the late-afternoon lull is good news for me, because it means a chance to tour the kitchen of this unique local eatery. We're here to celebrate my cousin Ethan's birthday, but the visit also gives me a chance to check out a restaurant that has won a place in local - and national - lore.
On a local scale, Nick's is famous for the crispy, thin crust pizzas it's been serving since 1995, and for juicy Italian Beef cooked on site, from scratch, and according to a 35-plus year-old recipe that the owner, Nick Sarillo, inherited from his father's Chicago beef stand. Nationally, Sarillo's two-of-a-kind restaurant (there's a sister location in nearby Elgin, IL) has garnered positive press for his uniquely successful business model.
In an industry plagued by up to 200 percent annual employee turnover, Nick's has a retention rate of 80 percent. Each location is operated by around 100 employees. For those not impressed by numbers, that's a whole lot of happy workers - one of whom is my cousin, Ethan. I don't know too many other employees who'd be excited to take their family to their workplace on their day off - especially when that day is their birthday - but that, it seems, is part of what makes Nick's so special.
According to Inc. com, the popularity and success of Nick's is largely due to Sarillo's 'strikingly effective' management strategy, which encourages employees to take an active and personal interest in the well-being of the company. But it's not just the employees who are invested in the future of Nick's; after years of supporting the community with fundraisers and charitable donations (their menu puts actual dollar amount at over $72,000 last year alone), this year Nick's turned to the community for a little support of its own.
Plagued by financial woes as a result of overbuilding, the state of economy, and nearby road construction, Sarillo made a risky move in September, sending an e-mail to all 1,600 members of his Frequent Guest Program. He used the message to highlight the shaky financial situation of the company and to ask, not for handouts, but for increased business. What could have been the nail in the coffin for a less community-minded organization turned out to be Nick's saving grace; the customers turned up in droves, doubling the expected revenue in the first week.
Their enthusiasm bought Nick's some time, but the restaurant isn't entirely free and clear, yet - in fact, they're still 25% short of their end-of-year goal (you can track their progress here, on the official Nick's Pizza & Pub website). Of course, the community is still responding - it's one of the reasons Ethan decided to celebrate his birthday there...which brings me to the real 'heart' of this post: my tour of Nick's at Crystal Lake and, of course, the food. Enough about the business, let's talk pizza!
The Nick's experience starts as soon as you walk through their 9-foot-fall, heavy-as-lead wooden doors. Aside from the electric signs outside, the place looks like it's been here for much longer than 16 years - and that's because parts of it have. The cobblestones outside the building come from the streets of old Chicago, and the massive building itself is made from a reclaimed, Crystal Lake dairy barn. Inside, it has all the rugged charm of a hunting lodge or mountain retreat. Antler chandeliers hang from the exposed beams of a vaulted ceiling and animal busts adorn the walls. A huge stone fireplace provides a focal point in the center of the room and, decked out for Christmas, the place is surprisingly cozy and festive.
Our party is large, so while everyone is getting settled, Ethan arranges for my tour with manager, James Corsiglia. After a brief introduction, James takes me on a quick tour of the restaurant floor before taking me into the kitchen. At Nick's, the kitchen is the 'Heart of the House' - a sentiment to which I can certainly relate, even if my kitchen isn't nearly as clean and efficient.
And efficiency seems to be a watchword at Nick's; pizza makers are trained to top pies with exactly 60 pieces of sausage in under a minute, and the stone shelved ovens cook each pizza to crispy, golden perfection in only 15 minutes. Such speedy baking requires high temperatures (around 550°F) so even on a chilly November day, the kitchen is sweltering. Amazingly, the employees seem more than able to handle the heat - I'm introduced to each one by name, and all of them are smiling!
The kitchen is set up in stages and each employee has a dedicated job to do. Tasks range from working in the salad prep area, or prepping trays of dough, to topping the pizzas, or pulling them out of the huge ovens. Later, Ethan explains that each task requires extensive and specific training, leading to a certification. After an employee passes a certain number of certifications, they trade in their tan hat for a red one (which comes with a pay raise) and, eventually, after every certification is passed, the red one is exchanged for the black hat of a 'Pizza Pro'.
On our tour, James shows me the trays of dough balls, standing ready for the dinner rush. They'll empty 32 trays, of 15 balls each, in a single day. He points out the ingredients, which are ordered frequently, and in small batches to ensure freshness. The sausage used on pizzas like the Nick's Special (a signature pie loaded with cheese, sausage, onion, mushrooms and green peppers) is custom blended for Nick's.
By the time we finish in the kitchen, I've exhausted my supply of questions and worked up quite an appetite, so it's a good thing that Nick's provides plenty of Virginia peanuts for snacking. Back at the table, everyone is cracking the nuts and tossing the shells on the floor - it's all part of the fun at Nick's and adds to the general atmosphere. We order drinks (their pitcher of cherry Pepsi comes with actual maraschino cherries!) and wait for our pizzas.
The Nick's Special
When the pies arrive, piping hot and smelling like heaven, we descend on them almost before I can get any photos! I manage to snatch a few of the Nick's Special, as well as the Double Decker version (two layers of crust and toppings layered over each other) and the Mexican pizza, but the Bacon pizza, a favorite with Ethan and his friends, disappears too rapidly for a Kodak Moment.
The Mexican Pizza
The crust on each pie is thin and crisp, and every pizza is deliciously saucy - a combination that reminds me of pies I've tasted on the streets of Italy. I prefer this kind of pie to deep dish, which is occasionally too dense and sloppy for my liking, and even the Double Decker is crisp and perfectly cooked.
Look at that baaaaaacon - and the beautifully braided crust on the Double Decker
Although I'm not a fan of peppers, I like the way Nick's slices theirs - long and very thin - so that I even end up leaving a few on my piece of Nick's Special, much to Matthew's disappointment. The Mexican is a great change of pace, and it really does taste like tacos on a pizza (which is a surprisingly good thing!), but my favorite is the bacon. It has the perfect ratio of toppings to cheese and, of course, it has bacon - how could anything else compete?
Yes folks, that's bacon pizza - served on one of Nick's biodegradable plates
We only order pizza on this visit, but I've heard great things about their Italian Beef and I plan to sample it for myself, next time we're in town. Their beer nuggets - fried balls of garlic and parmesan encrusted pizza dough - also garner rave reviews, and for those who like their sweets, there's the Moose Madness shake and even gelato, to further cement any comparisons to an Italian pizzeria.
Printed on the back of each menu is a clearly defined purpose, a summary of the 'Nick's Experience' which is to provide "this community [with] an unforgettable place; to connect with your family and friends, to have fun and to feel at home." Judging by our experience, I'd say they succeed, so if you find yourself in the Crystal Lake or Elgin area, take your family on over to Nick's. Of course, my endorsement isn't entirely altruistic - I want there to be a Nick's to come back to, next time I'm in town!
Today's post is a bit of a teaser. You see, I'm working on a post that I'm pretty excited about, but because I want to be sure to do it justice, it's taking a little longer than I'd intended. I'm having fun doing the research, but I know that in the meantime bellies are getting hungry, mealtimes are approaching, and folks are looking for recipes. So, to tide you over until that post is ready (and as a little foretaste of what is to come), I'm sharing a version of our favorite white pizza.
Our white pizza is based on a 'sauce' of olive oil, garlic, and Italian spices (with a splash or two of my precious truffle oil thrown in on occasion). The absence of traditional tomato sauce lets the individual flavors shine through, and the thin crust keeps the pie from being bland and doughy. Although we've made our own dough in the past, I have to confess that we often make this recipe with store-bought dough for a quick, weeknight feast. As with most things, there's nothing better than homemade (so you should make your own dough if you can), but it's the toppings that really make this meal special.
Of course, you shouldn't feel limited to the toppings I've mentioned; sometimes we add spinach, chicken, sausage, or even whole, fat cloves of roasted garlic to our pizza. You can also change up your cheeses, substituting mozzarella, parmesan, or others for the more strongly-flavored blue. I've always thought that pizza is the perfect medium for expression in the kitchen, and I've never met one I didn't like (okay, almost never), so treat this recipe as a guideline and give yourself permission to experiment!
In an effort to ward off seafood withdrawal after our week in Hilton Head, Matt and I indulged is some Linguine with White Clam Sauce last night. This simple seafood pasta dish is not only easy to prepare and richly flavored, but also wonderfully nostalgic for me. This recipe was reserved for special occasions during our childhood - it was the standing menu for my parent's anniversary - so, even now, it evokes treasured memories of time spent celebrating round our family table.
To be perfectly honest, I've never asked my mom for her clam sauce recipe (I should!) and have always improvised my own on the few occasions I've been inspired to cook this dish - which isn't as often as I'd like - but I finally wrote down my basic recipe last night and here it is! I like to add mushrooms and wine, but these aren't strictly necessary. If you can get fresh clams, you should definitely substitute (you can make your own 'clam juice' to add, by cooking the clams in a mixture of wine and water and reducing this liquid before adding to the garlic, mushrooms and oil - be sure to strain for sand and grit first!).
Linguine with White Clam Sauce
1/2 lb linguine
1/4 cup olive oil
2 (6 1/2 oz) cans chopped clams in juice
3-4 cloves garlic, crushed and roughly chopped
4 oz mushrooms, sliced (5-6 large mushrooms)
1/4 cup white wine
1/2 teaspoon basil
Flat leaf parsley, to taste
Parmesan cheese, to garnish
In a large pot of salted, boiling water, cook the linguine until al dente.
Meanwhile, heat oil in a medium saucepan over medium-high heat. Add the chopped garlic and cook until lightly browned. Stir frequently and take care not to burn the garlic. Add the mushrooms and sautee until moistened. Press the juice from the canned clams and add juice to the saucepan. Add wine and basil and cook mixture over medium heat until liquid is greatly reduced and slightly thickened (you want it thick enough to coat and stick to the pasta, not just run off!). Add clams and cook until heated through. Remove from heat and serve immediately.
Drain cooked pasta and return to saucepan. Toss with sauce to coat, and serve with a sprinkling of freshly grated parmesan cheese or a squeeze of lemon juice.
Ever have one of those days when you have absolutely no idea what you're going to make for dinner? You dig around in the refrigerator for a few moments, dash about in the kitchen for a half hour or so and then, suddenly, you've just thrown together something amazing? Well, that's exactly how this recipe came about. Those of you who are geniuses in the kitchen might have this experience on a regular basis, but it's still rare enough for me to be really exciting!
I knew I wanted seafood and that we had a few strips of bacon to use up, but the rest was just sheer luck and a bit of magic from the Flavor Bible. Unfortunately, when I'm cooking 'just for us,' I rarely measure or write anything down, so my recipes are always full of arcane terms like 'a pinch,' 'a smattering,' or 'to taste.' Thankfully, I think this recipe will be quite forgiving. It's one of those dishes that is simple enough to pull together on a weeknight, but luxurious enough to make you dearly wish for a weekend and a glass of wine. Delicious!
I think it's time for another recipe from my non-existent kitchen and this time I'm going to ask you to use your imagination, because we're making risotto. This Italian favorite, like gnocchi, has a reputation for being finicky and complicated. I like to think that my recipe proves this false, but, just in case, we'll imagine that we're cooking under the watchful, but knowledgeable gaze of an Italian nonna, in a cosy cucina bathed in late-afternoon Tuscan sunlight. It's a stretch, sure, but since I'm writing from a kitchen-free hotel room, I may as well go for it!
I've always loved risotto and I think it's a texture thing - there's something so nourishing and comforting about warm, creamy foods, and I love the way the dish is transformed by the addition of various add-ins. A seafood risotto is very different from a truffle-and-bacon infused dish, or a risotto simply flavored with good, aged cheese. Good risotto should be richly creamy, but still slightly al dente, retaining the core texture of the separate grains. It should 'flow' over the plate, without being runny, and is often served in wide, flat bowls to facilitate this. It's best eaten immediately after cooking because retained heat will continue to cook the rice and may cause the risotto to become dry or gummy.
My husband is a die-hard carnivore. One of his favorite meals is a big, beefy helping of bolognese sauce with a side of spaghetti, and he's always most excited about the dinners that make the house smell like roasted, sauteed or grilled hunks of protein. Now I'm not exactly vegetarian (I love seafood and am on fairly good terms with all kinds of poultry) but I'm pretty apathetic about meat and, pre-marriage, often indulged in meatless meals.