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Vibe check: A new pope-inspired sandwich has dropped. We try 'The Leo'
Listening live to NPR's announcement of new pope on LAist 89.3 FM, I did a double take on the words: "The new pope is from Chicago."
I think in the time I was slow processing that the first U.S.-born head of the Catholic Church was from my hometown, approximately one million memes were being born.
From sports to food, Chicagoans projected their own favorites onto Pope Leo XIV, who grew up as Robert Francis Prevost in a suburb just south of the city border. Heavily in the meme mix is a longtime staple that seems custom made for news out of Rome: Italian beef.
Even if you're not from Chicago, you may be familiar with the sandwich from The Bear. The popular Hulu series is set in a fictional family-owned restaurant called The Original Beef of Chicagoland. In actual Chicagoland there are scores of restaurants that serve the sandwich. One local favorite, Portillo's — pro-tip: you pronounce the Ls — has a branch in Buena Park that's serving what they're calling "The Leo."
Friends of mine picked up all "The Leo" fixings this weekend to toast the new pope poolside here in Southern California.
The sandwich consists of super thinly sliced roasted beef heated in a heavily seasoned broth, allegedly called gravy, not something I ever remember calling it. You then pile the heated beef slices onto a sliced French bread and top it with sport peppers, sweet peppers and giardiniera, a hot relish of peppers and vegetables. Portillo's is calling the sandwich “divinely seasoned” and “baptized in gravy.” Oh, and those selection of peppers are now "the holy trinity of peppers."
What makes it "The Leo"? According to Portillo's it's the double-dip you're supposed to do in the broth.
For me, Italian beef is a staple of my childhood. My mom used to roast her own beef at home and then take it to a local deli counter to slice paper thin, something food safety rules don't allow any more. She'd bring it home and fold it into homemade broth with the sweet green peppers. It would simmer all day on the stove for guests to assemble their own sandwiches whenever they got hungry.
The backstory on the sandwich is that it was created by Italian immigrants in Chicago to make use of tougher cuts of beef and stretch meals at family events, from baptisms to graduations to weddings. It differs in taste from L.A.'s beloved French dip, which is typically made with a better cut of meat and is topped with cheese and hot mustard.
I know one thing for certain, it still tastes like home.