81. Spaghetti carbonara | La Bocca della Verita
This longtime Lincoln Square favorite is known for many standouts, but none shined as brightly as affable owner Cesare D’Ortenzi, who passed away in October. The smooth-voiced, cigarette-wielding Italian was known for encouraging diners to stick their hands in the restaurant’s namesake, “The Mouth of Truth,” a stone replica of the famous Roman statue. Operating a little remote he kept in his pocket, D’Ortenzi would command the foam chompers in the mouth to bite the hand of the “liars.” One of the dishes he was most proud of was his carbonara, which he proclaimed stood out because it was made authentically, using guanciale (cured pig jowl) instead of pancetta. The restaurant will continue under the watchful eye of D’Ortenzi’s wife, Liz, but the man behind the mouth will be sorely missed. 4618 N Lincoln Ave (773-784-6222). $12.50.

82. Brownies | Lovely: A Bake Shop
They’re the Rosie O’Donnell of brownies: shamelessly big, endlessly rich and—thanks to the crème fraîche—they have a bit of bite. 1130 N Milwaukee Ave (773-572-4766). $2.50.

83. Cranberry saison | Rock Bottom
Yes, it’s a national chain, and yes, the crowd can be a little touristy and a lot choochy. But brewer Pete Crowley does know his stuff, and because of this, the bigwigs at Rock Bottom let him use about half of the tap space to serve his own seasonal concoctions, including this killer unfiltered farmhouse ale he brewed with fresh cranberries. It’s yeasty, tart and refreshing all at once, and if you missed it, check back; Crowley just might put it out again next summer. 1 W Grand Ave (312-755-9339). $5. Seasonal.

84. Cheese and loroco pupusa | Pupusería El Salvador
Heading to Indiana anytime soon? Make that your excuse to jump off the Skyway into Chicago’s Far Southeast Side. There, you’ll find this tiny Salvadoran pupusería, where the sweet owners hand-pat and griddle the namesake cornmeal patties. Carnivores will love the revueltas, a mix of pork, beans and cheese tucked into a pupusa, but we’re more interested in those stuffed with cheese and loroco, an edible flower bud with a mild, nutty squash flavor. Order plenty for the ride back home; there’s really no need to go to Indiana. 3557 E 106th St (773-374-0490). $1.65.

85. Yorkshire pudding | Lawry’s the Prime Rib
It’s time we come clean. We’ve been carrying on a secret love affair of sorts, scooting into this Gold Coast relic to take our place in the stiff booths among the corpses holding forks. We love when the unaffected waitresses in matronly polyester uniforms snooze through the “famous spinning bowl salad” routine, and when the knife-wielding carver rolls over the giant silver dome holding the massive prime rib. But our deepest affection is saved for the Yorkshire puddings, individual little popovers with crispy shells just begging to sop up the savory, chocolate-colored gravy. For these, we’ll rub elbows with the Class of 1952 any night of the week. 100 E Ontario St (312-787-5000). Free with every dinner.

86. Boat noodles | Thai Elephant
The lore surrounding this classic beef-noodle dish is that it’s made with blood and marijuana, or at least that you can find it that way in some remote villages of Thailand. The richness of the beef broth brimming with thin strands of rice noodles and bits of brisket proves there’s some blood in there, but no amount of winking or hand signals has convinced the Thai Elephant owners to confirm the weed theory. But we’re thinking there has to be a reason why one bowl only makes us hungry for another. 5348 W Devon Ave (773-467-1168). $6.75.

87. Banana-cream pie | Hoosier Mama Pie/PIE
We’ve loved Paula Haney’s pies since first tasting them at Trio, where she served as pastry chef back in the Grant Achatz glory days. After she split, there was a slight withdrawal period, but we were cured when she started her own pie company, Hoosier Mama. Now, we don’t even have to special order them through her online biz—we head for fancy floral shop Epoch, where Haney’s pies are sold under the simple moniker PIE. You could sample for days or take our word for it: The banana cream is the best version we’ve ever found. 615 N State St (312-642-2968). $26.