I just happen to have some recent photos of a lunch at the Butt’ry. It's an odd little place, yet
real in a way that I find comforting. This is especially so in recent years as two chains have moved in nearby. This photograph gives an idea of the decor, which Diane described above. In two previous incarnations, (a circa 1970 yellow and green garden trellis motif and an 80’s yuppie forest green with gold flecks,) the effect was somehow the same in spirit, achieving a folk art pastiche of bourgeois elegance.
The Butt’ry has been there a long time. I can't say how long, but it was an old favorite of my mother's friend from Winnetka, who is now in her 70's, like most of the other patrons. It used to be run by a group of Polish women, who sold a lot of soup and half-sandwich lunches. They never did much of a dinner business, but the dinner menu included stuffed cabbage, pierogies and such. That said, I think the Butt’ry is in the tradition of the 1920’s tea room, a place where ladies gather for lunch.
I began eating at the Butt'ry almost 20 years ago when the abject misery of "morning sickness" made it impossible for me to eat anything with a strong taste. The Buttry's mild house-made soups and fresh-daily chicken, egg, and tuna salad seemed the perfect thing for those days when I was able to contemplate something more challenging than a matzo ball. Here are pictures of the potato-dill soup and half chicken salad sandwich that I had there recently:
While the soft white bread has a dense, workmanlike crust, it makes a big raft of a sandwich which is a nice platform for generous scoops of mayo/celery-bound salads.
Erik M. is not the only LTH-er with Secret Menu connections. (I’m just trying to figure out the trajectory of the secret menu concept from Spoon Thai to this Wilmette lunch spot.) I can't say that there is much that is a secret about The Buttry's Menu, except perhaps for those who have not eaten there recently. There are some Korean dishes like bulgogi that the new owners have added. The new owner seems very astute in his business plan to bring the regular customers the same food that they have come to expect over the years. The refrigerated case even contains some of the meringue-topped pies I've seen there yet never tried. He assured me that all the bread is made by hand, and that the salads are all made fresh daily. Indeed, the tastes of The Butt'ry have not changed at all, from what I can tell. And that is really nice.
Man : I can't understand how a poet like you can eat that stuff.
T. S. Eliot: Ah, but you're not a poet.