Food & Drink

The Best Giardiniera in Chicago

WarnerMedia botched it big time when its myopic executives canceled South Side, a thoughtful comedy that unapologetically represented locals who lived way past Madison, way past Roosevelt, and — yes — even past Hyde Park. Chicago writer Studs Terkel was famous for pointing out that Division Street is the longest street in America, and the South and North side divide is seen in many ways. But one of the only things the city can agree on?

Giardiniera.

South Side brings in Chicago rapper Vic Mensa to show the city’s affinity for the classic Italian American pickled condiment, the spicy companion to the Italian beef sandwich. No matter the cut of meat or the quality of bread, an Italian beef without giardiniera is lacking. The giardiniera’s acidity dances with the jus and tender beef. The crunch from its medley of carrots, olives, and celery echoes the crusty bite on a fresh loaf of French bread. The infused oil melts into the bottom of the sandwich, a welcome surprise as eaters hang on tightly to their wrappers.

Mensa’s cameo introduces skepticism about the condiment’s origins: “We were supposed to do so many great things together … We were going to finally prove that giardiniera was invented by a Black man.”

There’s a bit of trolling here. So let’s get this out of the way: Before Phil Stefani’s Bar Cargo opened in River North in 2017, I sat down for an interview with him at Navy Pier. Stefani introduced me to his pizza chef, who had brought a bit of contraband with him: Calabrian chile sauce he imported himself after a trip to Italy. As an Indian American, someone who delights in trips to spice stores and even imported his own after a recent trip to the homeland, I feel I’ve got some expertise. I still dream about that Calabrian chile. To this day, I haven’t tasted anything like it. I crave it. So it’s not a surprise that Italian immigrant ingenuity gave us giardiniera.

One of Chicago’s largest giardiniera manufacturers, Marconi, used to run radio ads urging customers to put giard on their boots — not so subtly implying that it truly belongs on everything. Ramen. Burritos. Chinese fried chicken sandwiches. Pastrami sandwiches. Manny’s Deli, Chicago’s premier Jewish deli, offers ramekins full of giardiniera for customers who want to enhance their latkes, matzo ball soup, whatever. In Andersonville, Palestinian-owned Middle East Bakery & Grocery stocks its version in its coolers alongside condiments like toum. The only Michelin-starred Filipino restaurant in the world, Kasama, serves its own version of an Italian beef — shaved adobo-spiced pork that tops a longganisa link — all topped with spicy giard. Perilla Korean American Steakhouse makes a giardiniera inspired by kimchi. Santa Masa Tamaleria serves an Italian beef tamale with a giardiniera reminiscent of escabeche. Did we mention paczki — Italian American sandwich maker JP Graziano’s has offered the treat with giard for the last two years. (Some jagoff may have given them that idea.)

When I mentioned that giardiniera could be utilized like chile crisp on ice cream to Dana Salls Cree of Pretty Cool Ice Cream, her eyes came into dizzying focus like a mad scientist’s. And the beverage world won’t be left out. At John’s Food and Wine, a bistro in Chicago’s Lincoln Park neighborhood, bartenders have started mixing vodka martinis with a secret-holding garnish — giardiniera-stuffed olives. John’s made its own ferments, fashioning giardiniera out of celery, carrots, cauliflower, banana peppers, Calabrian chile, and more.

Two stuffed pastries with a background of bottles of giardiniera and giardiniera relish in red-trimmed bottles, plus a black-and-red baseball cap.

Giardiniera does go well with paczki.
Kim Kovacik

No one’s giardiniera recipe is the same. Al’s No. 1 Italian Beef, a chain that started in 1938 along Taylor Street in Chicago’s Little Italy, doesn’t use vinegar in its special blend. When it comes to Italian beef, giard may be an overlooked component. The beef takes center stage, and then folks talk about the French rolls. But don’t ignore the power of giard: Yes, you can order sweet peppers instead, but you might as well go to Philly and order a cheesesteak. Just try to say “giard wit.” It doesn’t sound right, does it?

Giardiniera taps into a unified side of Chicago rarely seen. Jars are gifted to strangers as signs of appreciation; they’re also shipped to out-of-town family members as tastes of home. Chicago Reader editor-in-chief Salem Collo-Julin bubble-wrapped a jar of Marconi giardiniera as a Mother’s Day gift, sending the pickles to Florida. She later posted about the gift on social media, writing that it had induced “unbridled joy.” Collo-Julin tells me her Filipino family lived in West Town among many Italian American families in the 1960s until the late 1980s. Her mom “knows what to do with giardiniera.”

The gift somehow tapped into a well of emotion that surprised them both. Collo-Julin shared that her mother even texted her a poem: “Giardiniera, giardiniera, giardiniera, I put it in everything. I don’t cara / Giardiniera, giardiniera, giardiniera, let me eat, do not stop me / Don’t you dara.”

With all being said, here are three giardiniera varieties that really hit the spot.

The Modern Bearer:

Bird’s-eye-view of giardiniera on a deep dish pizza. One slice is held up higher than the others on a spatula.

Caruso Provisions wants to take giardiniera national, but it still goes great on Chicago staples.
Caruso Provisions

Caruso Provisions is bent on taking giardiniera national. The condiment doesn’t just belong on Chicago foods — it can complement anything. If Chicago is known for heavier Midwestern fare, Peter Caruso wants folks in California to know that his family’s brand — powered by serrano, habanero, and jalapenos — can heat up West Coast dishes, too. Caruso’s recipe blends Northern and Southern Italian traditions and packs 50 percent peppers with 50 percent vegetables, including the integral crinkle-cut carrots. There’s a satisfying crunch that’s not bogged down by too much oil, for which they use a special extra-virgin olive oil blend. (The belief is that soybean oil or a lesser option would make you taste impurities.) This is the trendiest giard on the market right now, but they’re not doing anything too flamboyant. It’s what the prototypical giardiniera should taste like. Find Caruso online or at stores like Publican Quality Meats.

The Darling Upstart:

Horizontal view of a tattooed man holding a jar of giardiniera — chopped vegetables preserved in olive oil — with a label that reads “Pickled Prince Giardiniera” on top.

Springtime giard from the Pickled Prince.
The Pickled Prince

Chefs Brian Greene and Alex Skrzypczyk pivoted in 2020 along with the rest of the restaurant world as the pandemic closed dining rooms, forcing restaurants to roll back employee hours. The pair decided to launch their own pickle operation. Customers can find Greene selling pickles at various farmers markets, including Wicker Park, during the summer season. They also introduced their own giardiniera, a brighter and sweeter take on the genre made with cauliflower, carrot, celery, onion, fennel, and garlic. It comes in one heat level — not throat-scorching, but not exactly mild. While the topping is good for beefs, it works better in salads, grilled cheeses, and dips. It’s a bit of a departure from tradition, but it’s the closest you can get to an authentic Chicago spring — surprise snowstorms and all — in a jar. This is a wonderful thing. Order online or find Greene and company at your local farmers market.

The Celebrity Chef Curveball:

A bottle of giardiniera sits next to a fried chicken sandwich piled high with slaw, homemade pickles, and a peppery sauce.

Mauro Provisions has a giardiniera relish with honey that goes well with dishes like the chicken sandwich from 3 Little Pigs.
Mauro Provisions

It’s easy to write off Jeff Mauro’s giardiniera operation as more hype than bite, but Mauro Provisions delivers, proving that the Food Network star can honor his Chicago roots. Giardiniera relish — chopping up the vegetables into a smaller, spreadable dice that’s ideal for sauces — isn’t a new thing, but Mauro takes it up a notch by adding honey. The sweet-savory interplay of the Honey G Pepper Relish is unstoppable. I tried it on the fried chicken sandwiches sold by 3 Little Pigs, the Chinese restaurant in Bridgeport. It just felt right. Though the giard is cut up, it still retains a pleasant crunch. The honey isn’t syrupy and blends with the vinegar for a subtle pop. Find jars from this brand online.




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