I imagine "family meal" being a time to show-off some seriously good homestyle, childhood or family favorites that might not be part of a restaurant's menu. I can't imagine a better group with which to share my mom's Swedish meatballs, my dad's lefse or a big pot of my grandma's bacalao stew, so I can't imagine what amazing recipes chefs and staff might have up their sleeves and are just itching to share and reminisce.

I am constantly arguing with my partner regarding this exact topic--What people do and do not know about food. Allegedly, I give people FAR too much credit for the capacity to identify food items which, in my case, is mostly Scandinavian food and drink, i.e. lefse, gravlax, glogg, brunost, et al. Inevitably, he emerges the victor and shoves it in my face like a professional athlete taunting a kindergartener who failed the Presidential Physical Fitness Exam (granted, he is an athlete). Typically, a takedown consists of this: "You really think everyone knows what gravlax is in NYC?" "Yes, of course! People get lox every morning on their bagel!" "They don't know what gravlax is." "I just said they do!" "Let's go outside in Bay Ridge on 5th Ave. right now and ask people what gravlax is." "This is easy, this was a hardcore Norwegian neighborhood for years!" I lost. "Grave what?" "You need a locksmith?" "You need me to pick your lock? Let me call my cousin. He's good." So, in summary, I suppose I have a much greater faith in humanity and a capacity to eat and learn over the course of a lifetime or, perhaps, I simply had parents who never kicked me out of the kitchen or discouraged me from watching hour upon hour of PBS cooking shows when I was home sick from school.

I simply don't understand how my favorite (and hands-down the best Chicago-style deep dish in the world...not just the city, but the world) consistently falls under the radar, but, well, that just makes more for me to stockpile and take back to Brooklyn when visiting my hometown. OLD CHICAGO PIZZA, at 742 East 79th Street (79th and Cottage Grove). Give Paul a call, give him an hour and start heading over to the South Side for something that will completely change your world. It is absolutely impossible to drive home/ride the bus/take the El/walk home without pulling off a piece and devouring it. If you drive, at least you can lock the thing in your trunk. I have been going to Old Chicago Pizza since its original incantation in an old ice cream parlor at 79th and Halsted. When it moved to its current location, a fair amount of time passed and I started to go into mourning. Rarely do restaurants that I adore successfully move to new locations. But, alas, after bi-weekly calls over the course of what seemed like years, the phone was answered, the heavens opened, cats and dogs living together, and the world was at peace. Old Chicago Pizza was opened again, and in a tiny storefront conveniently located at 79th and Cottage Grove. The Old Chicago Pizza sauce is slightly sweet, but mostly from some serious tomato caramelization and loads and loads of garlic (it is akin to Scott Conant's tomato sauce -- and I wouldn't be surprised if there was butter in the Old Chicago Pizza sauce, either). The cheese is extremely good quality, high-fat cow mozzarella and the crust is an intriguing cornmeal-pastry hybrid that, again, probably contains copious amounts of butter. Though I tend to be a purist and just get the cheese Chicago-style, Old Chicago's Italian sausage is out of this world and has more fennel seeds than you can shake a stick at. The menu is pretty extensive and, though all the pies are fantastic (including the excellent South Side-style thin crust), once you've had the cheese Chicago-style, well, you know what they say...

And, as though that isn't enough, a stone's throw away (well, if you're a good stone thrower) is Dat Donuts (8429 South Cottage Grove). I mean, the best pizza and donuts in the city within blocks? Brooklyn, darling, I have something to confess to you. I cheat on you every time I go home to Chicago. I've been doing it for years. I'm sorry, Dom. I really am...

Or, you could have purchased a cupcake from Downtown Atlantic and called it a day. :)

Sprinkles all the way...