Interesting/good lunch, general vicinity of 3300 W. Addison?

Have to reunite with lost luggage at the taxi Lost & Found. Not my usual area. Just wondering if there's anything out that way to salvage the otherwise long and tedious schlep.

Pretty close to Smalls (4009 N. Albany) . . . not very far from Smoque, Thai Aree . . . depends what you mean by vicinity I suppose.

GNR Cafe Orchid fits the bill, too.

=R=

Cafe Orchid
1746 W. Addison
Chicago, IL 60613
(773) 327-3808

I'd suggest Olga's Deli (recommended here 5 years ago) for huge, delicious, cheap sandwiches and fantastic German potato salad made by the sweetest lady you'd ever want to meet. I can recommend the schnitzel (center) and the German-style hamburger (that's Olga assembling one at right). Sandwiches recently went up to $6. Take out only.



Olga's Deli
3209 W Irving Park Rd
Chicago
773-539-8038

Edited to restore photo links.

You're not far from Mirabell (3454 W. Addison), just in case you fancy a massive old German beer stein with your lunch. Even if you don't, you'll find some solid German food there.

You're also not far from Hot Doug's.

Or First Slice on Manor (2 miles NE). Also, less than 2 miles from there: Noon-O-Kabob, Semiramis, Chief O'Neill's, Isla Filippino and plenty in Lincoln Square.

Pie Lady wrote:. . . Chief O'Neill's . . .

No!!

=R=

Tamales Garibay is also at 3859 N. Kedzie, I love their tamales. They also appear to do other standard Mexican fare, but I've only tried their tamales.

ronnie_suburban wrote:

Pie Lady wrote:. . . Chief O'Neill's . . .

No!!

=R=

I don't know why this place is getting the stink eye. My last two visits there were delicious. Perhaps I have the luck of the trace amount of Irish.

I failed to mention that I would be on foot and heavily laden, so Rene G's option seemed both geographically and gastro-emotionally the way to go.
Bless you Rene G.
My stop at Olga's turned my wet, gray slog of a day into a Frank Capra movie.
The store actually looks brighter and livelier in your pics than it seemed today. From outside, and even upon entering, the place could not have looked less prepossessing. Narrow and deep to begin with, it seemed even more cramped being bisected down the center by an indifferently stocked shelf unit. Everything looked a bit distressed, faded, cluttered. Though my faith never wavered, I did stand for a few moments in the apparently empty space, taking it all in, until shaken from my reverie by a cheerful, "Helloooo?" emanating from the back.
Olga bustled in like the cook/grandma/housekeeper in an old movie. What would I like? Before I choose, I should taste the baked ham. Just made. Here.
A generous slice thrust forward over the counter dangling from the end of a very serious knife. Warm and delicious.
Well, I was thinking of the Schnitzel.
You know what Schnitzel is?
Yes, I do. My mother made Schnitzel.
Here, try. I just made it.
She wasn't kidding. The beautiful mottled brown/black bread crumb coating was glistening and fresh-out-of-the-pan hot. The meat was perfectly moist/tender.
I'll take 2 of those, please.
They are the size of dinner plates, and she's making the sandwich on fairly modest rounds of rye bread, so she simply hacks the pound of schnitzel into rough circles and proceeds to stack them on the bread. We're about 3 layers high when she asks, "Do you want to try a pork chop?"
I didn't want one right then, and was already considering other items for the rest of my order.
The solution?
I'll just put some pork on your Schnitzel. It's free. You know why? Because I already made it. I had it.
And by "some" she meant she would now place an entire pork chop on top of each of my already tottering Schnitzel towers. (Nobody has anything to teach Olga about vertical presentations.)
"Oh! Do you like corned beef?"
"I love corned beef."
"I just made it! Here, try it first."
She bustles back out, then returns with a steaming whole brisket in her hands. Whacks off a hunk that would pass for a portion in some places.
Mmm-mmm good. "OK, just slice me a pound of that. Not a sandwich. I'll take that home."
She slices thick, wide ribbons into a styrofoam take-out container, which, as it happens, is subdivided into 3 sections. The corned beef fills the main area, but what to do about the remaining two?
The solution?
She bustles out again and returns with a hunk of steamed cabbage, and a large steamed potato with which she fills the empty sections.
"And I'll take a loaf of the rye. My wife doesn't like rye bread, but this looks very light, so I'll take a chance."
"Here---have a slice before you take it."
So at this point I have consumed, in component parts, the equivalent of about 1.5 normal sandwiches before getting anywhere near the one I actually ordered and will pay for.
Now we're at the register. We're chatting, she's packing things up and I say something about how glad my wife will be when I return with this great sack of deli booty.
"Oh! Your wife! Let me send home a present for your wife. From Olga, you'll tell her."
She comes into the aisle and surveys the rather neglected looking shelf. Large bottles of fruit syrup, dusty bags of pasta, some odd canned goods. . .hmm. . .Ah! There it is. A lovely package of Bahlsen Butter Leaves cookies.
In the end, I spent about $25, ate a filling meal while ordering, and returned home with about 6 meals worth of food. As well as (I deeply believe) lower blood pressure and cholesterol, better karma, and goodwill toward men.

The images linked below are: Schnitzel sandwiches with whole pork chops as condiments; my completed order: 2 Schnitzel sandwiches, 1lb pckg. of Stiglmeier wieners, 1 loaf rye, corned beef and accoutrements, gift cookies.

LOVE this report, mr b. Thanks!

What an excellent result, mrbarolo! As much as your words made me laugh, the photos brought tears to my eyes.

hilarious! i live so close to this place and have never tried it out. i must do so now. Olga sounds like a darling.

Regarding Chief O'Neills, my past meals have been very nice. I remember in particular a very nice parsnip and sweet potato gratin that came with my steak. I once got a bowl of mussels that were sandy. after I told the bartender, the manager apologized profusely, took it off the bill and even gave me a complimentary drink.

Wow...my first impression of this place was not good, but thanks to you I'm going to give this place a try next time I want a deli sandwich or corned beef. The stuff I got from Cermak Produce doesn't look nearly as good, and Olga's is within spitting distance.

mrbarolo wrote:In the end, I spent about $25, ate a filling meal while ordering, and returned home with about 6 meals worth of food. As well as (I deeply believe) lower blood pressure and cholesterol, better karma, and goodwill toward men.

What, no potato salad? Olga makes some of the best I've had. But at Olga's, it's about more than the food, good as those sandwiches and Kartoffelsalat are. As you so rightly point out, a visit to Olga's can be therapeutic, especially on a gray day. Thanks for a wonderful report. I trust Olga's Deli won't get ignored here for another five years.



Edited to restore photo link.

Olga's is great, as long as you go with realistic expectations. Don't expect spotless cleanliness (or even dustless packaged goods), don't expect to be in a rush, don't expect her to have everything on the menu all the time, and don't expect to have a sterile customer service exchange. Expect delicious food, genial conversation, and plentiful samples all at a (very) leisurely pace. I had never understood when people would say they don't want people finding out about a place because it will be too crowded until I think of Olga's.

I like to get the schnitzel with cheese, mustard, and onion but I'll also put in a mention for the smoked butt sandwich. It can be elusive but is delicious when she has it. Or just ask for what was recently made. This place is one of my go-to stops if I'm home from work and around in the daytime. With the proximity to Small's, it can make a hell of a one-two punch.

There is something very encouraging about the accented, stolid way Olga says 'okay' to the choices you make. "You want the schnitzel? Okay. You like onion on it? Okay, we'll put the onion on it." I want her to follow me around and approve of all of my choices. "You going to leave work early to avoid rush hour CTA crowds? Okay."

Thanks for reporting back. I don't live so far from Olga's, but I've never tried it and I love the story you told . . . sure makes me want to give it a try. Luckily, I was looking at the weather forecast for the coming weeks and they're calling for rib-sticking-food temperatures.

skess wrote:There is something very encouraging about the accented, stolid way Olga says 'okay' to the choices you make. "You want the schnitzel? Okay. You like onion on it? Okay, we'll put the onion on it." I want her to follow me around and approve of all of my choices. "You going to leave work early to avoid rush hour CTA crowds? Okay."

This made my day.

Rene G wrote:What, no potato salad?

Funny you should have caught me out there. I thought I could remember the various things you had highlighted, but with so much exuberant conversing and tasting and deciding, I didn't remember the potato salad, and it wasn't out in the open to provide a visual cue, nor did Olga bring it up. So, perhaps she didn't even have it at the moment.
When I got home and was unpacking and regaling Kelly with the whole experience, I suddenly remembered the potato salad and, I believe, actually clapped the back of my hand to my brow when I realized what was lost.
All the more reason to find a way back from Hyde Park. On the train. Then another train. Then a bus. Totally worth it to see Olga again. Among all I brought back, it is the Schnitzel that has most captured me, with its magical mysterious oily umami coating and tender interior. But I want to try that neolithic looking burger and absolutely get my hands on the potato salad.

MRbarolo: I live near Olga's but work in Hyde Park. If you ever want me to bring you something from Olga's down to Hyde Park, I might be able to do it for you. Just let me know. That's a long trek on public transportation.