Our frequent trips to Wisconsin have given us the chance to also take in some supper clubs of Northern Illinois. Consider this a first in an on-going adventure. Before I report on two recent experiences, I have to give one serious warning about eating in Northern Illinois (as well as certain parts of Wisconsin). The water sucks. Bad. I actually wonder if this is a limiting factor on the cuisine. Anyway, do like most customers do at these places: drink.
Crandall’s
Crandall’s, just south of the Wisconsin border on Illinois 47 is one of those low, been there forever, roadhouses that makes me hungry no matter when I ate last. While the building dates to before World War II, the current restaurant is only about 10 years old. The lack of history does not seem to bother the people of Hebron Illinois who pack this place and ignore the truly retched water. Nearly everyone eats the house special, broasted chicken. You have two options as dinner, which gets you soup or salad or as all-you-can-eat, which is more chicken but less appetizer—it does include a small dish of cole slaw. An onion soup with a gratin of shredded cheddar suggests the all-you-can eat is a better package, even if you stop at the first plate of four pieces. If you have had broasted chicken before, you know Crandall’s chicken, moister, with a solid if not crisp crust. What separates Crandall’s is the basket of yeast rolls served with dinner, about 75 % get a cinnamon glaze, the other just plain.
J.W. Platek’s
If all of Hebron was at Crandall on a Sunday night, all of Richmond seemed to be at J.W. Platek’s on a Wednesday night located at the intersection of highways 12 and 31. This is no roadhouse but a place in the same vein as many a Wisconsin supper club (with the affectations of an in house brewery and a large selection of wines by the glass). You know it is a supper club when you are seated with a big relish tray platter. To be honest, this was the pinnacle of our meal. A large round plate holding four glass bowls: cheese spread, chopped liver, ranch dressing and pickled beets; surrounding these bowls, broccoli, carrot, radish and celery. Because of the high crowd, service waned, and we finished nearly every bit of this platter before our “real” food arrived. Being a supper club, I ordered supper club, prime rib. I stuck with the regular portion and still got a huge slab of red meat—I’ve learned to order my prime rib rare. The meat showed no complexity, no deep flavors, as if, but enough beefy goodness to justify its $20 price tag. The house dressing with the salad was goofy, bottled creamy Italian mixed with shredded cheeses. Soup was only slightly better if at least made in the house. I liked the steak fries, wedges of baked potato fried, but the rest of the family did not. On the other hand, I did not think much of the tenderloin steak sandwich, tasting way too much of commercial tenderizer.
Think Yiddish, Dress British - Advice of Evil Ronnie to me.