Chicago Sandwich Canon: The Big Baby

Two years ago, I wrote a piece I called Chicago Sandwich Canon: The South Side’s Jim Shoe. In that article, as in this one, I started out by noting that Chicago has a well-established food canon, especially when it comes to sandwiches. Even casual foodies are aware of Chicago-style hot dogs (the dragged-through-the-garden variation in any case, and possibly the “Depression Dog” style as served by places like Gene and Jude’s as well); Maxwell Street Polish sausages are also fairly well-known; the Italian Beef sandwich, always popular, is especially so in recent months given the success of the Hulu show The Bear; jibaritos are regularly talked about in national food discussions; and the breaded steak sandwich, or at least that rendition of it served by Ricobene’s, has been called the world’s greatest sandwich.

In this “Chicago Sandwich Canon” series I want to feature some of the lesser known but still important sandwiches of Chicago, many of which originated on the South Side. The Mother-In-Law had its moment in the sun when my friend Peter Engler took Anthony Bourdain to get one at Fat Johnnie’s for a 2009 episode of No Reservations. The Freddy has seemed harder to find in recent days and is yet to get its writeup on this site, though I mentioned it while discussing Michigan’s similar Cudighi sandwich. One of the South Side’s most beloved purveyors of both the Sweet Steak sandwich and the Chicago-style Hoagy, the original Taurus Flavors, closed its doors for good after an automobile accident destroyed their storefront in 2019, though as I’ve discovered, other establishments serve similar sandwiches as well. And despite the many articles online about the glories of a good Jim Shoe, many people in Chicago still don’t know that the sandwich exists. A recent discussion on a Facebook group dedicated to Chicago’s Italian Beef sandwiches had many lifelong Chicagoans confessing they’d never heard of the Jim Shoe. Chicagoland is a big place and while the South Side’s foodways have their dedicated adherents, many of these sandwiches have yet to be introduced to the area’s greater sphere of consciousness.

Which is why I am here today: to tell you about the Big Baby. As with many South Side street foods, the real legwork has already been done, and I am merely following in the footsteps of not only the aforementioned Peter Engler, but also Monica Eng, who recently cowrote and published a book with my friend David Hammond titled Made in Chicago: Stories Behind 30 Great Hometown Bites. According to her research, the original Big Baby was invented by a Greek restaurateur named Nicky Vagenas, who opened a hot dog stand called Nicky’s on Archer and Austin, near Midway airport, in 1967.

Nicky’s

“It’s not really a chain,” I said to begin a recent TikTok video. That video was about an entirely unrelated sandwich, but it seemed relevant to describe the seemingly odd prevalence of fast food places on the Southwest side of Chicago and in the nearby suburbs that are called Nicky’s. And overall, Nicky’s isn’t a chain, though their menus are similar and admittedly a few of these places are connected to each other. Nicky’s The Real McCoy has three locations that form a sort of mini-chain: on 58th and Kedzie in Chicago, on Cermak and Cicero in Cicero, and on 115th and Pulaski in Alsip (pictured below). They called themselves “The Real McCoy” to try to stake a claim for being the original, despite Nicky’s Hot Dogs on Archer having opened 2 years earlier.

But while the name Nicky’s may be a common thread, the specifics do differ from location to location. There is an unrelated Nicky’s Hot Dogs at 47th and Kedzie (the sign says Nicky’s hamburgers but Google calls it Nicky’s Hot Dogs); Nicky’s Carryout in Crestwood (my local Nicky’s); Nicky’s of Beverly (which attempts to cultivate a slightly more upscale aesthetic). There used to be a Nicky’s Drive Thru at 115th and Western, which not only served a Big Baby, but also a Big Baby Gyros burger, with shaved gyros meat added. There’s a Nicky’s Gyros in Chicago’s Fuller Park neighborhood and another in Calumet City, neither of which has a Big Baby on the menu, but a Mickey’s Gyros down the street from me in Oak Forest that does–or at least, it serves a Big Mickey that is pretty similar. Peter Engler’s Big Baby post on LTHForum from 19 years ago lists many other places serving Big Babies, a number of which may now be defunct.

None of these places, apart from the three “Real McCoy” locations, share any similar branding; the decor is all different, the logos, everything. They share a few menu items–burgers, hot dogs, usually gyros, and the name Nicky’s. Nicky is a diminutive form of Nicholas, a popular boy’s name of Greek origin. Did a bunch of Greek guys named Nicky all open similar restaurants around the same time?

According to Eng, no–Nicky Vagenas himself went on to open 9 more Nicky’s locations after the success of the original, launching them and then selling them to other Greek immigrants who kept the name, though perhaps individualized it a bit. Nicky’s The Real McCoy’s original location in Chicago’s Gage Park neighborhood was among those Nicky’s that Vagenas started and then sold off.

It is a complicated history, but the gist of it is as I described in my video:

It’s not really a chain, but around the southwest side of Chicago and the nearby suburbs, there are a bunch of restaurants called Nicky’s, Greek-owned places doing hot dogs, burgers, gyros, etc. They’re only loosely connected, and the quality can vary from place to place. For instance, the one near me: fantastic, fresh-cut fries. The next one up the road? The fries are garbage.

Big Baby

So what is a Big Baby? The simple answer is, it’s a double cheeseburger. It’s a misleading and unsatisfying answer though, because a Big Baby is a very specific double cheeseburger. This, from my local Nicky’s Carryout in Crestwood (they of the fantastic, fresh-cut fries), is likely the best photo I’ve taken of one, or at least the one that best portrays the unique construction of a Big Baby.

Recently I was listening to a podcast interview of my friend Jon Ostrander, aka @sandwichdad of TikTok fame, and he talked about how changing not just the combination of condiments on a burger, but the placement of those condiments within the burger, can vastly affect the finished product. The Big Baby is a demonstration of that principle.

1. A Big Baby comes on a toasted sesame seed bun. Now, not every Big Baby I tried this month actually did use a sesame seed bun but the classic Big Baby needs those seeds.
2. Ketchup, pickle, and mustard go on the bottom bun. under the patties.
3. Cheese goes between the two patties, and nowhere else. This is, again, not as universal among the Big Babies I sampled for this report, but is by all reports a defined feature of the form.
4. Grilled onions go on top of the patties. These onions are usually not caramelized fully, but griddled just long enough to tame the crisp and sulfurous bite of raw onion into something a bit softer, deeper, sweeter.
5. No mayonnaise, no lettuce, no tomato, no special sauce or Thousand Island dressing. Certainly some Big Baby makers do add these things; for example, the Big Baby variant called Big Mickey that is sold down the street from me comes with lettuce and tomato by default. But unlike the classic Chicago-style hot dog, the OG Big Baby does not mess around with salad.

The result is a distinct burger experience. A sandwich is tasted from the bottom up–your tongue sits beneath the food you put into your mouth. So first, there is bread, then the sweetness of ketchup, the sour pungency of mustard and dill pickle chips leading into savory ground beef oozing with melted American cheese. Finally, the slight sweet wilted burst of cooked onion mingling with the top bun and its faint sesame nuttiness.

A good Big Baby is not a miraculous event; it is no great eye-opening revelation. It’s just a double cheeseburger. But at its best, it is a very enjoyable, well-engineered and constructed double cheeseburger. Unfortunately, not all Big Babies are created equal.

Nicky’s of Beverly

Beverly is a neighborhood on the far south side of Chicago that embodies a number of contradictions. It’s known for its Irish pubs and the public drunkenness of its rowdy South Side Irish Parade, yet a historical ban on alcohol sales prevents bars and liquor stores from operating in much of the neighborhood. The overall population of Beverly consists largely of well-off, aging boomers who are still at least progressive enough–or practical enough, anyway–for Beverly to have become one of the most racially integrated of Chicago’s neighborhoods. White flight didn’t really happen here, but with these big mansions and tree-lined streets, who’d want to leave?

So when someone wanted to open a Nicky’s to serve the Beverly community, with upscale touches like an expanded menu including vegan options and the currently de rigueur Nashville Hot Chicken sandwich, Beverly was certainly up for it. But since, along with the “elevated” street food menu, they wanted this Nicky’s to offer craft beers and wine, they did what most of Beverly’s famous Irish pubs have done over the years; they opened it just across the street, in West Beverly. All those famed Beverly bars, the Western Avenue pub crawl through the Beverly and Morgan Park neighborhoods that some call the Irish Death March, are on the west side of the street.

Nicky’s of Beverly makes a Big Baby that adds some of those Beverly-friendly upscale touches–brioche bun rather than sesame seed, cheddar rather than American cheese, thicker-cut, better quality pickles than the typical hamburger chips–but they are all notably to the detriment of the final product. I throw darts in a league with bars nearby so I’ve been there twice so far in 2023, once for the aforementioned Nashville Hot chicken sandwich, which tasted fine but did not scratch any kind of Nashville Hot-shaped itch for me personally, with its aioli and its instagram-ready coleslaw. Spicy? Sure, a bit, but not Nashville Hot. The second time was on the first of March for that Big Baby. Their fries are decent–they’d be better if they hit the table hot, but they are still pretty good after sitting for a few minutes, and this Nicky’s has the advantage of making a mild sauce dispenser available in their dining room, so I’ll be back most likely. I just need to figure out what they do well.

Nicky’s Carryout

Sadly, my local Nicky’s, the one with the fries that I rave about regularly, does not do a very good Big Baby. Technically it is a proper Big Baby, with a lightly-toasted sesame seed bun, ketchup/pickle/mustard on the bottom, grilled onions on the top, and cheese inbetween the patties. It’s the patties that are the problem though. These are absolute bottom-tier rubbery hockey pucks of meat, lean and dry and flavorless. When I go to this Nicky’s–which I do regularly, as it’s only a mile or two from my house and those fries are outstanding, especially when ordered extra crisp as I did here–I order a gyro, which they serve overstuffed with meat, enough that I have plenty leftover for sandwiches; or I order hot dogs, which they make in the classic dragged-through-the-garden fashion; or sometimes I’ll get an Italian Beef. I generally avoid their Big Baby though.

Nicky’s The Real McCoy

Nicky’s Carryout is on Midlothian Turnpike and Cicero in Crestwood. Around the corner and up the road from there, on Pulaski in Alsip, is the southernmost outpost of Nicky’s The Real McCoy. This is the place that I badmouthed in my TikTok video, saying their fries were garbage. I hadn’t been there in a decade or more because of that bad impression of their fries, though I remembered them having a very good Big Baby. I chanced going back there this month for a taste, and the Big Baby is every bit as good as I remember–they use a nice, loosely packed, fatty ground beef, which they press thin and brown on a well-seasoned griddle. The resulting burger is soft with an extra beefy flavor from that Maillard reaction, the onions soft and sweet, the cheese fully melted and oozing from the sides, the proportions perfect.

I ordered a hot dog and fries from The Real McCoy as well, and was surprised to find the fries better than I remembered. They are not particularly good; they are thin, previously-frozen food-service fries similar to what is served at McDonald’s, but they are hot and fresh and well-salted, perfectly acceptable. The hot dog is also an interesting case–I asked for it with everything, and it came with mustard, onion, relish, and a pickle wedge. No sport peppers or tomatoes, and I did not detect any celery salt. Normally the hot dog comes with fries, but I asked for it without since I already had an order of fries coming with the Big Baby. Now I wonder–would those fries have come wrapped in the paper with the dog? Is this a Depression Dog variant? With the exception of that pickle wedge, it seems close.

Nicky’s Hot Dogs

Nicky’s Hot Dogs, the originator of the Big Baby, is located at the corner of Archer and Austin in the Garfield Ridge neighborhood of Chicago, just a little bit northwest of Midway Airport. I had never been there before this month, but I am already planning to return based on the Big Baby I had there. It was very much like the Big Baby from The Real McCoy; the fries were very much like The Real McCoy’s fries; the hot dog was very much like The Real McCoy’s hot dog. However, the Big Baby was executed at a level well above the burger I had at Nicky’s The Real McCoy in Alsip. Take another look at it here:

The burgers themselves were browned a bit more thoroughly–that good fatty texture was there, but with some crisp edges and a fuller, more savory flavor as a result. They were pressed thinner as well, the burger edges hanging out beyond the bun but still hot and crisp and juicy. The cheese seemed cheesier somehow–it was just American cheese, between the beef patties like usual (though I can’t tell in the photos–is that additional cheese peeking out from under the bottom patty? Could just be mustard, hard to say) This was almost a carbon copy of the Real McCoy burger–or vice versa, I suppose–but better in every way I could think of.

The fries were almost exactly the same as The Real McCoy’s fries–McDonald’s style thin frozen food-service fries. The hot dog was fine, dressed similarly to the one I’d had at Nicky’s The Real McCoy but with sport peppers, and a somewhat less snappy dog. It was good, but I wouldn’t necessarily steer anyone their way for the hot dogs, despite the restaurant’s name. I need to get back there though and try that burger again, if only to convince myself that it was actually as good as I experienced it on that single visit.

Is it destination dining? Maybe, if you’ve never had a Big Baby, or have only had mediocre and unmemorable renditions, and you want to experience the best version possible. If those reasons don’t apply, just wait until the next time you’ve taken a Southwest flight out of Midway and parked at their Economy Lot on 55th Street. Take the right coming out of the lot and drive about a mile and a quarter west. Turn right again on Austin and Nicky’s will be there at the next corner. A Big Baby, fries, and a cold RC or Diet Rite will let you know you’re back home in Chicago.