The 17 best Italian beef sandwiches in Chicago

Hop in line (it looks intimidating but moves with impressive efficiency) at this charmingly retro Elmwood Park stand and let the smoke of chargrilled sausages tickle your nose while you await the platonic ideal of an Italian beef sandwich. A Johnnie’s sandwich hits all the right notes, from the fresh, supple Gonnella bread to the chunky, just-piquant-enough giardiniera to the herbal bouquet that rises from the steaming jus like an intoxicating perfume. But most remarkable is its utter, well, beefiness; it’s a sandwich that eats like a kind of bomb of umami savoriness. When you’re done, cleanse your palate with the velvety housemade lemon ice.

It’s not hard to see why Al’s is an enduring favorite among Chicagoans and a mandatory port of call for many tourists. In addition to being shaved so remarkably thin that it’s practically transparent, the beef is redolent of a mysterious secret spice—is it cinnamon? Cloves? Nutmeg?—that distinguishes it from all others. Comfort in one’s outsized reputation can sometimes tip into laurel-resting, and on some visits here we’ve been disappointed by stale bread or giardiniera applied with a stingy hand—but sooner or later, the enigmatic perfume of the beef always pulls us back in. For a change of pace, try the Gypsy Fries, a gonzo poutine of fries, jus, cheese sauce, beef and giardiniera.

If serious heat is your thing, this Italian sub and deli institution has the beef sandwich for you. It’s available dressed with super hot giardiniera, a housemade blend of don’t-dare-touch-your-eyes-afterward (no joke) habaneros and pungent capers. (For tamer palates, there’s also mild and standard hot giardiniera, as well as sweet peppers.) The beef here is tender, well-seasoned and cut into thick ribbons, so even the smallest sandwich on offer (9 inches) will keep you going for the better part of a day.

There’s not much nuance about this long-running River North staple, which also served as the inspiration for FX's hit show The Bear. The employees aren’t afraid to bark at you for indecisiveness, the walls are overwhelmed with celebrity photos and random ephemera (e.g., a cutesy ode to beef composed by a sixth grader hanging directly over a headshot of Keith Richards puffing a cig) and the Italian beefs are hefty and so unapologetically oily as to immediately render their paper wrappings transparent. Throw mannerliness to the wind and you’ll be rewarded with a sandwich of slightly fatty beef, expertly dunked in aromatic jus so that the bread’s edges retain a pleasing trace of crustiness.

Though it’s often labeled a tourist attraction, Navy Pier is home to some eateries that are worth making the trek. Among them is Ciccio, a food court stall focusing on Italian sandwiches. Owner Mario Ferraro uses a secret family recipe, which dates back decades, for the thick-sliced beef and puts it on crusty bread that stands up to the housemade jus. Every sandwich also comes with a few slices of roasted potatoes on top, because why not? Fortunately for those who can’t (or don’t want to) visit Navy Pier, Ciccio also offers delivery.

South Siders will tell you that Tony’s serves the best beef in town, and honestly we can’t blame them. The beef slices are thicker than most other places, the sandwiches are quite sizable and the giardiniera is made with … chickpeas? Hey, whatever works. You can also try original creations like the Corleone—grilled Italian beef with onions, mozzarella and giardiniera on toasted Italian bread. And if you’re hosting a party, Tony’s offers party trays and beef by the pound.

Even unadorned, the Italian beef at this bare-bones Portage Park joint is quite serviceable indeed, built around jus-trapping shreds of subtly spiced beef. But it’s the hearty house giardiniera that really elevates this sandwich; comprising chunks of crinkle-cut carrot, green olive, celery, cauliflower and pepper, it adds major crunch and a pop of acidity that balances out all that meatiness. If you want to up the ante, go for an Atomic Combo, which augments the standard beef sandwich with a fiery sausage created by none other than Hot Doug Sohn.

Don’t let the name fool you—Bob-O’s is more than just a hot dog stand. This Dunning mainstay has been around since the ‘50s, serving knockout beef sandwiches. The meat is well seasoned and topped with crunchy giard that’s a must. Make sure to complement it with an order of fresh cut fries, and bring bills because it’s cash only.

Kevin Hickey’s Bridgeport gastro-tavern specializes in Midwestern comfort, ranging from fried cheese curds to duck fat hot dogs. His “Decent Beef” is also far more exemplary than the name suggests—all-natural prime rib is loaded onto an Italian sub roll and dipped in beefy jus. You can add accompaniments like giardiniera, sweet peppers, melted cheese, Italian sausage or shaved black truffles if you’re really looking to go all out.

This Taylor Street grease joint is a favorite of 12th District locals, which is always a good sign. The Italian beef might be the best in the neighborhood (and according to some, maybe in the entire city). The Patio’s combo—an Italian beef and sausage smushed into a giant bun—is nothing short of legendary. A meal at the Patio is sure to raise your cholesterol levels by a few points, but it’s definitely worth it.

Dick Portillo sold his namesake hot dog chain in 2014, and since then Portillo’s aficionados have questioned the quality of the food under the new management. Even so, we’d be remiss to leave the chain’s Italian beefs off of our list. A dipped beef from Portillo’s is a thing of beauty, and is capable of bringing a tear to the eye of any Chicagoan who loves a good wet sandwich. Order a side of their signature crinkle-cut fries, and you’ll find yourself in a greasy rapture that’s been 50 years in the making.

Finding a good Italian beef in the Loop isn’t as easy as one might think. Luke’s is your best bet—the place has the feel of an old school Chicago grease joint, and its beefs have all of the essentials that could satisfy a newbie tourist and a seasoned Chicagoan alike. The gravy is just salty enough, the bun maintains its structural integrity even while sopping wet and at less than $9, it’s incredibly affordable.

Modern Filipino sensation Kasama gets much buzz for its bold tasting menu and transformative pastries, but the daytime menu offers an overlooked gem—a combo sandwich. Owners Tim Flores and Genie Kwon put their own Southeast Asian spin on the Chicago dish, shaving thin slices of pork shoulder atop a sweet and spicy longanisa sausage. It’s dipped in adobo jus and finished with giardiniera to give it some more heat. No, it may not be the most authentic sandwich on this list, but it is damn good and well worth lining up early for.

There’s much more than pizza on offer at this Cicero gem—think housemade meatballs, tender pillows of ricotta-stuffed gnocchi, all manner of groceries imported from the Boot—and oh yeah, one of the area’s best Italian beef sandwiches. The beef here is herbal and fragrant, and the giardiniera—a colorful combo of carrots, red pepper, celery and cauliflower—has a mild, pleasant burn and an oiliness that mingles beautifully with the jus, adding layers of flavor and richness. Flaky Turano bread holds together nicely following a light dip, making this one of the tidier specimens on our list. 

There are over a dozen Pop’s scattered around the Chicagoland area, but only the diminutive Mt. Greenwood location has the old-school vibe that somehow makes the food taste a bit more special. The finely shaved beef here savors of garlic, and dips are executed in a best-of-both-worlds fashion that soaks only one side of the dense, spongy bread, allowing for a nice textural contrast. The liberally applied giardiniera, a verdant mix of mandolined jalapeño and celery, is like a cousin to Chickie’s, except with a good bit more heat and a pronounced oiliness that spills over the dry side of the bread, giving it a shellacked quality.

Now located in Hillside, Chickies is actually a reincarnation of a stand that once ruled the Italian beef scene in Little Village. The beef sandwiches here could be described as matter-of-fact but satisfying: Shreds of lean beef are folded into fresh Gonnella rolls soft with a clear, mildly salty jus that doesn’t fuss around much with herbs and spices. The one point of intrigue is the unusual house giardiniera, a mix of razor-thin celery and jalapeño slices that contributes a briny, vegetal note (and surprisingly, only a hint of heat). If you need a little extra incentive to journey out to the ‘burbs, here’s a good one: Chickies also serves cannoli milkshakes.

With more than two dozen locations, it's all too easy to dismiss Buona as a chain—but that'd be a mistake. The family-run, Chicago-born operation is steeped in rich history: As the story goes, Joe Buonavolanto Senior (nephew of Mr. Beef's Carl Buonavolanto) took out a second mortgage on his home to make his meaty dreams a reality. Buona's beef recipe, which hasn't been touched in 30 years, was dreamed up by Joe's wife, Peggy, and has been passed down through generations of Buonavolantos. The meat here is perfectly seasoned and topped with char-kissed green peppers before it's stuffed into a crusty bun and dunked in jus. There's even a plant-based beef for vegans. You drooling yet?