Simple Sandwiches, Homemade Soups at Winking’s Market in Quincy

I have a complicated relationship with my hometown. This is probably not an uncommon situation. I was born and lived in the Chicago area for the first 10 years or so of my life, but if you asked, I’d tell you I was from Quincy, Illinois. Quincy is where I grew up, to the extent that I ever did. It’s where I went to middle school, high school, and apart from a stint at SIU in Carbondale, it’s where I went to college as well. And like many people from Quincy, growing up there, I couldn’t wait to get the hell out. I wasn’t really equipped to appreciate my hometown until I’d left it.

From a distance, it looks quite nice.

We haven’t visited often enough recently. In all of 2020, I brought the family down to Quincy only once, the weekend we would have had our annual hog roast, to make tacos and spend a little time together despite the canceled event. Last weekend was our first time visiting in 2021.

Of course I had ulterior motives in visiting. My investigation of The Harold required a closer look, and with the Hardee’s in Macomb closed, Quincy was the next best location. Mostly though it was about seeing my family.

So why is it I’m squeezing yet another sandwich post out of the trip?

At the corner of 4th Street and Maiden Lane in Quincy, on the edge of a sort of rundown neighborhood between the downtown historical district and the area once known as Calftown, half a block south of the convention center that’s been converted into an extremely efficient operation for getting COVID vaccines to Illinois residents, stands a building that I’ve been intrigued by for decades but have never entered until this past weekend: Winking’s Market.

Winking’s is the kind of family-owned neighborhood market that used to be much more common just about everywhere, but has been largely put out of business, first by large corporate grocery stores, then by the Walmarts and Targets of the world. Its website describes it as “the oldest and one of the last locally owned corner grocery stores still in business in Quincy, Illinois.” I don’t know the veracity of that claim and haven’t tried to corroborate it. As of 2021, Winking’s has been open for 73 years, which is doing pretty good for any kind of family business.

Inside, Winking’s is for the most part a small, homey grocery store, coolers full of pop and juice and water along the left side, shelves with dry goods in the back, small dairy cooler in the middle. The right side of the market is dominated by the primary draw of the place, and the reason I’d visited this day, the deli.

Winking’s deli stocks a small, slightly old-fashioned but interesting and well-curated selection of deli meats and cheeses available for purchase. The many age-yellowed hand-written signs festooning the deli counter attest to the lasting power of these meats and cheeses to Winking’s clientele. Though they do apparently, from time to time, change things up as well.

Most interestingly, Winking’s offers a sandwich menu as well, providing simple lunches to the neighborhood around it at prices that appear to be from a different century. It is, by all accounts, a very popular spot to grab a quick bite on that end of town.

The sandwiches are simple–just a single meat, with or without cheese, on sliced white or wheat bread, with mayonnaise and/or mustard. But I defy you to find another place where you can buy a bologna sandwich of any kind in 2021 for less than $1.50. If you find such a place, eat there every chance you get–spend your money there so they survive and maybe one day I can come eat a bologna sandwich there as well.

Upon our arrival, the young man working the register and the deli counter explained how things worked to us, and when I asked which were the sandwiches people liked the best, he said either the hot sandwiches or the “salad” sandwiches–i.e., egg salad, tuna salad, etc. I started with Winking’s house-made ham salad on wheat.

It is an exceedingly simple sandwich–finely minced ham in a sweet dressing–very likely Miracle Whip, as Mindy thought that might be what they were using in lieu of mayonnaise–with minimal embellishment. Satisfying in its way, not exactly what I was looking for but at these prices, worth trying.

The pickled souse, on the other hand, which I also ordered on wheat but with the additions of horseradish cheese and mustard, was a surprisingly good sandwich. Souse is a type of headcheese and this pickled version included bits of sweet pickle and mildly spicy pickled peppers in it. The minimal format was a great way to feature a quality lunchmeat rather than overwhelm it with distracting flourishes.

Next time I’ll have to try one of the hot sandwiches–it looks like roast beef and barbecue beef, both house-made, are the standard options. On this day though the real stars were the soups.

Winking’s vegetable beef soup was surprisingly good, featuring good-sized tender chunks of beef in a tomato-rich broth with noodles much like a longer, thinner straight macaroni and a good variety of vegetables–corn, tomato, carrot, green beans, etc–that did not taste as if they had come from a can.

Winking’s Taco Soup–less successfully captured on camera–was a sort of tortilla-less tortilla soup, leading with cumin and chili powder, featuring beans and ground beef but less hearty than a chili, which they also serve. It was served with a sprinkle of shredded cheddar on top that melted on our walk back across the street, lending the soup a pleasing mouthfeel and textural variance.

The town of Quincy has been part of my life for damn near 40 years now, and it pains me to think of all the times I could have, should have stopped by Winking’s Market for lunch in that time and didn’t. Will it become an every-visit stop? That may be overstating the case. These aren’t destination sandwiches, though I’d certainly drive across town for that soup anytime. It’s a great little shop though, a piece of history, and a place I do plan to spend more time in the future.