Eventually, we made it to Phillipe's, which I believe serves the most delicious French dip in the world. When we got back to Chicago, we compared the French dip sandwich at Mr. Beef, which I found to be less flavorful and a lot more messy. Mr. Beef wins though when it comes to service and decor. Who can beat Mr. Beef's Elegant Dining Room and the southside Irishmen who prepare your food? Phillipe's is staffed by a bunch of middle-aged Mexican women and the inside, though authentic, felt no more special than the faux-old-timey-feel-good-decor of a Potbelly's. Mr. Beef makes a sloppy Chicago sandwich for the mostly constructon workers and carpenters coming in the door. Phillipe's is all tourists (like me) and retired people, so perhaps Mr. Beef wins after all. We finally made it to Chinatown after that protest and bought some red bean cakes.
1 comment:
I look sincere.
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