In a brief moment of boredom-induced internet grazing, I ran across a review of a restaurant I used to frequent while a poor college student in Chicago--Mister J's Dawg 'N Burger on State Street. The reviewer said he has never been to the place, will never go to the place, and will not allow his girlfriend to go to the place, mainly because he saw a guy cleaning out the back one day, and the sight was disgusting. Hummmph
Mister J's is an institution, or at least it was in the early 80s. It was within walking distance of my dorm, and for just over $2, you could get a big burger, a pile of fries, and a chocolate shake, and these weren't just any burgers, fries, and shakes. These were monumental, life-altering, and epicurial.
The only down-side of the place was the nature of the ordering--you had to know what you wanted the minute you walked through the door because if you walked up to the counter and hesitated for even a moment, the guy on the other side would scowl with his swarthy, unshaven, Greek face and move on to the person behind you in line--"whadayagot?" he would bark. The trick was being ready at the draw, "I'd like a Number 2 with a chocolate shake, please." A Number 2 was the cheeseburger that was loaded with amazing things like sweet pickles and dill pickles, the crunchy fries, and the thick shake. You could also get a Number 1, which I think lacked cheese, or a hot dog, or a half-chicken platter, all ordered by number. There used to be a Saturday Night Live skit with someone trying to order a Coke at a counter just like at J's, and the cranky guy would snap back, "Pepsi, no Coke!" It was rumored to have been inspired by my favorite college haunt.
The counter was manned by a line of Greek men who had been working at J's for years. They were there when my sister was a regular customer, years before I found the place, and they were there years later when I returned for a brief visit, just to see if it was what I remembered. They were friendly if you didn't waste their time, they valued their regulars, and they nodded if they happened to pass you on the street. Back in the day, husband used to go to J's with a different girl every visit, so they started greeting him with "Hey Casanova, whadayagot?"
I have only fond memories of Mister J's Dawg 'N Burger, and if anyone were to ever ask me for a review, I'd say to ignore the dirty floor and greasy walls and order up. Just don't be shy at the counter, or you'll find yourself at the back of the line.
Mister J's is an institution, or at least it was in the early 80s. It was within walking distance of my dorm, and for just over $2, you could get a big burger, a pile of fries, and a chocolate shake, and these weren't just any burgers, fries, and shakes. These were monumental, life-altering, and epicurial.
The only down-side of the place was the nature of the ordering--you had to know what you wanted the minute you walked through the door because if you walked up to the counter and hesitated for even a moment, the guy on the other side would scowl with his swarthy, unshaven, Greek face and move on to the person behind you in line--"whadayagot?" he would bark. The trick was being ready at the draw, "I'd like a Number 2 with a chocolate shake, please." A Number 2 was the cheeseburger that was loaded with amazing things like sweet pickles and dill pickles, the crunchy fries, and the thick shake. You could also get a Number 1, which I think lacked cheese, or a hot dog, or a half-chicken platter, all ordered by number. There used to be a Saturday Night Live skit with someone trying to order a Coke at a counter just like at J's, and the cranky guy would snap back, "Pepsi, no Coke!" It was rumored to have been inspired by my favorite college haunt.
The counter was manned by a line of Greek men who had been working at J's for years. They were there when my sister was a regular customer, years before I found the place, and they were there years later when I returned for a brief visit, just to see if it was what I remembered. They were friendly if you didn't waste their time, they valued their regulars, and they nodded if they happened to pass you on the street. Back in the day, husband used to go to J's with a different girl every visit, so they started greeting him with "Hey Casanova, whadayagot?"
I have only fond memories of Mister J's Dawg 'N Burger, and if anyone were to ever ask me for a review, I'd say to ignore the dirty floor and greasy walls and order up. Just don't be shy at the counter, or you'll find yourself at the back of the line.
Comments
I just had my nice healthy lunch and now I feel ill.
I could feel my arteries congealing with every word I read.
Gina, greasy is the word for it. And everyone should have their favorite spot, even if you have to wipe the seats before you sit down.
Lynn, Oh come on. You have to try the place just once.
I like these kind of posts from you Robyn the nostalgic writing is a gift of yours. Damn I wish I could write like that. I haven't heard you play your horn yet but I would probably say the same about that. Would I? ;))
Woohoo!
A whole year!
Well done!
Great post as always, my friend :)
PF