Chicago Sandwich Canon: The Freddy

Welcome to 2024, sandwich fans! I have stated this before but it bears repeating: if you have found yourself on this little corner of the internet, you more than likely have an above-average interest in sandwiches. It is also probable that since this blog is largely based out of northern Illinois, you even have a good working knowledge of the better-known examples of what we’ve been calling the Chicago Sandwich Canon. Of course you’ll know all about the standard dragged-through-the-garden Chicago style hot dog (and we are largely in favor of inclusivity here at the Tribunal, considering hot dogs to be among our repertoire) and its variants the Depression Dog and the Maxwell Street Polish sausage; you will have sung the praises the unmatched Italian beef sandwich; you may have tried the unique Chicagoan riff on Puerto Rican cuisine, the jibarito; and since its writeup in USA Today back in 2015 you are probably even aware of the breaded steak sandwich

But there’s another level of the Chicago Sandwich Canon, lesser known sandwiches largely originating from the South Side, that deserve your attention as well. Take that dragged-through-the-garden Chicago style hot dog and replace the sausage with a Tom Tom tamale covered in chili and you’ve got the Mother-in-Law. Go to any number of Greek-owned fast food joints throughout the Southwest of Chicagoland and you can order a Big Baby, a double cheeseburger with grilled onions, ketchup, pickle, and mustard. On Fridays during Lent, delis, beef shops, and Italian restaurants all over the city will offer a pepper and egg sandwich, a hearty meatless lunch alternative for practicing Catholics. South Side stands offering submarine sandwiches and gyros through bulletproof glass windows will often sell a hot mess of a sandwich called the Jim Shoe. And while the original Taurus Flavors has closed, there are still a few shops like Home of the Hoagy on 111th Street where you can get an inexpensive hoagy sandwich or the signature Sweet Steak, a cheesesteak variant featuring a mild, sweet barbecue sauce with tomatoes and sweet peppers in addition to the steak and cheese.

Today’s addition to the Chicago Sandwich Canon–and specifically, the South Side Chicago Sandwich Canon–is the Freddy. The Freddy is not a complicated sandwich–it’s made from the kinds of things that a Chicago pizza joint will generally have on hand–a patty made from the kind of sweet fennel-laced Italian sausage that is used on Chicago style pizzas; marinara sauce; mozzarella cheese; and grilled green bell peppers served on the same kind of sturdy French roll that’s used for an Italian beef sandwich. It’s the kind of thing that could have been invented anywhere–and probably has. For example, a similar Italian sausage sandwich with melted cheese, red sauce, and grilled peppers on a sausage patty in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan is called a Cudighi–though that uses a specific type of sausage. There are probably similar sandwiches elsewhere.

My friend Peter Engler researched the sandwich’s origin about 15 years ago and published his findings as a post on the website LTH Forum, building a story from the recollections of the people in the neighborhood. According to what they told him at the time,

Benito (Benny) Russo is generally acknowledged as the father of the Freddy (as well as the father of Freddy, after whom the sandwich was named). While Benny was at Chuck’s Pizza in Beverly in the early 1970s he put together the sandwich (obviously not an original creation) and named it after his son.

In the late 1970s Chuck’s Pizza was sold but the current owner continues the Freddy tradition.

When Benny left Chuck’s he, together with some family and friends, opened Calabria Imports farther south on Western in Blue Island. Several years ago the business split and Calabria Imports moved to Beverly on 103rd Street, taking the Freddy along.

When Calabria Imports moved from Blue Island to Beverly, some of the founders remained behind and changed the name of the store. Of course the Freddy stayed behind too.

It seems that for a time, the Freddy spread slowly around the far South Side, reproducing by mitosis alone. Or as Peter put it,

as businesses split or were sold, the sandwich moved on but also stayed at its original home. This has been the main mode of the Freddy’s propagation.

I have been reaching out to various of the businesses mentioned in Peter’s lineage of the Freddy–Chuck’s and Calabria Imports mainly, as Stefanelli & Sons in Blue Island closed around 2014 or 2015, leaving a second location in Lockport that closed soon after. I didn’t question this origin story, I just wanted some human being with a connection to the story to tell it to me. I was able to speak with Pat Roberto, a current owner of Calabria Imports, and fill in a few details.

According to Pat, Benny Russo was, in the early 70s, part-owner of Chuck’s Pizza, and in late 1975 went in with his son Benny Jr. (not Freddy–in this version of the story, the namesake Freddy was not Benny’s son), daughter Tina, and her husband Carmen to open Calabria Imports at 13012 S. Western in Blue Island, current home of a Michoacana ice cream shop.

Calabria Imports was open at this location until August of 2003, at which point they moved to their current location on 103rd Street in Beverly.

At that time, the Calabria storefront in Blue Island was reopened by some of the former partners in Calabria Imports under the name Stefanelli & Sons.

By the time of the split in 2003 though, Benny Russo was already out of the picture, having opened another restaurant–Ben’s Pizza, Pat said, at 111th and Western, which I can’t find any information about, though I did see that there was once a Benny’s Pizza farther west on 111th Street, closer to Pulaski. In any case, both Benny and Benny Jr. have since passed, according to Pat, who is not aware of a relevant Russo named Freddy. Pat says he did once meet the creator of the Freddy, a cook who had worked at Chuck’s Pizza in the early 1970s and came into Calabria Imports one day to introduce himself–but he can’t remember the gentleman’s name.

A few unrelated pizza restaurants in the area serve the same sandwich under the name “Fat Freddy”–Bartolini’s in Midlothian and Russo’s Pizza in Alsip are the two I’ve found. Russo? Yes. No connection according to Pat, though I am investigating further. But between the closings of the Stefanelli’s locations and only two other local restaurants picking up on the sandwich, is the Freddy, as Peter put it to me recently, “moribund?”

I don’t think it is, and the unlikely reason why? Chain pizza. There are 2 small regional chain pizzerias that sell their own versions of the Freddy, which are also called Freddy on their menus: Barraco’s and Beggars.

Still other small regional pizza chains, standalone pizza joints, and Italian delis sell sandwiches similar or identical to the Freddy but named differently–the Sandro’s Special at Italia Imports in Orland Park, the Big Nicky at Vito and Nick’s, the Durbin Special at Durbins, the Cuz at Cuzin’s Pizza–but in many cases, if you go in and ask for a Freddy, they’ll know what you mean.

So despite the original lineage of the Freddy sandwich being currently limited to the two Beverly locations–Calabria Imports and Chuck’s Pizza–the sandwich has legs under it yet, and some reach across South and Southwestern Chicagoland. And I’m glad to see that, because it’s a sandwich worth having. Here is a link to my Freddy map; I’ll update it sporadically if I learn of any additional places serving them.

Chuck’s Pizza: the Original. Chuck’s is a busy, carryout-only operation in a busy neighborhood of Chicago and like many carryout pizza joints it doesn’t open until 4pm and stays busy until it closes. At one time there was a dining area, now sectioned off from the order counter by a thin, ragged sheet of semi-opaque plastic–peeking through the holes and around the edges it looks like there’s some remodeling going on back there but they’re so busy all the time that I was unable to ask about their plans or about the sandwich’s history.

Chuck’s uses a thick sausage patty that fills the French roll fully, flame-grilling it rather than griddling so that it has a smoky grill flavor. The sections of green bell pepper are large, much larger than what would normally be served in an Italian beef sandwich, and appear to have been freshly grilled over direct flame as well. There’s a good amount of well-melted mozzarella cheese here, and an herby, spicy sauce that’s more like a pizza sauce than a marinara. The sausage was just a bit too charred on this particular trip but I could see this being a very good sandwich otherwise.

Beggars Pizza: the upstart. Beggars is a popular chain of pizza restaurants around the south and southwest suburbs of Chicago. Chicago pizza has a reputation for excess, mostly due to the tendency of people to focus on the heftier pizza styles that are served in this area–deep dish, stuffed pizza, and pan pizza, which tend to all be lumped together under the “deep dish” label. If someone who only knew about Chicago-style pizza through that lens of excess were to try a bite of Beggars’ pizza–their mind would not be changed. Thin-crust, square-cut pizza may be the standard day-to-day pizza in Chicago but not all thin-crust pizza is created equal. Some of the classic Chicago thin-crust pizza joints like to top a delicate, crisply thin crust with balanced layers of sauce, cheese, and other toppings, resulting in the kind of pizza you can eat at the bar without your hand getting too greasy to lift your beer mug. Others, like Beggars, are not shy about loading up their pizzas. As their slogan brags, “We lay it on thick!” It’s not bad; it’s just… a lot.

When Peter investigated and wrote up the Freddy 15 years ago, Beggars did not have one on their menu, but they have since caught on. As with their pizza, Beggars lays on the cheese and sauce with their Freddy, though they use marinara rather than the herbier pizza sauce. The green pepper layer is not quite as all-encompassing but still substantial, and the sausage patty is thick but without that distinctive Italian sausage flavor I expect from a Chicago pizza joint. If there was fennel in the sausage, it was undetectable.

Russo’s Pizza: the Mystery. Oh how I wish I could tell you that Pat from Calabria Imports was wrong and I’d found another true successor to the original Freddy! After stopping back a few times over the past week, I was able to talk to the owner briefly and ask if the Russo of Russo’s Pizza had any connection to the Russos who’d originated the Freddy. “I don’t know,” he answered me honestly. He went on to tell me that Russo’s Pizza had opened at that spot in 1977 by the original owner, who was named Russo. However the current owner acquired the business in 2000 and kept the name and wasn’t aware of the family history or whether there was a connection to Benny Russo. He did offer that the original owner’s nephew owns another nearby business, Russo’s Pizza Supply on Cicero in Alsip, so I will continue chasing down this lead even after I publish this piece. If I learn more, I will update at that time.

Update (2024-01-23): I have spoken briefly with the staff at Russo’s Wholesale Pizza Supply and they say of course there is a connection. The original owner of Russo’s Pizza was Victor Russo, brother of Benny Russo and uncle/brother/cousin to the Russos at Russo’s Wholesale, which appears to be a mostly family-run operation. They perked right up when I mentioned the Freddy and they said that their sausage is what makes it so good. I have acquired some of their sausage and plan to put this to the test soon.

In addition to the Freddy–which they call a “Fat Freddie”–Russo’s has another unique menu item called a “Fritz” that they describe as their version of a Pizza Puff.

Pizza puffs are a staple of Chicago-style fast food, and my friend Dennis did a better job of describing them than I’ll be able to, but essentially they consist of a flat packet of pizza toppings–sauce, cheese, sausage, pepperoni, etc.–wrapped up in a flour tortilla and deep fried until the tortilla surface is browned and blistered and the filling is guaranteed to burn your mouth all to hell. Kids love them, and will keep going back to them no matter how many times they burn their mouths, which is probably why they are still so prevalent in Chicago and the suburbs. As for why they are practically unknown outside the area… I can’t say.

But Russo’s Fritz reminds me less of a pizza puff and more of a gigantic empanada filled with pizza toppings, or a deep-fried calzone perhaps. Similar items in Italy are called Panzerotti and perhaps Fritz is a play on that word, mistaking “Panzerotti” (either deliberately or unaware) for being a reference to the German tanks from World War II. And while it appears (and frankly is) excessive, it is also delicious, featuring a bright tomato sauce, sweet Italian sausage, and a layer of mozzarella cheese that stayed delightfully molten during the cold January drive home. The fillings are wrapped in a pizza dough that is rolled out thin and sealed well on the edges, deep-fried to a crisp brown but far less greasy than any pizza puff I’ve ever had.

I have also found a new favorite pizza in the area in Russo’s thin crust. The crust is rolled out very thin, and they cook it long enough to brown both crust and cheese nicely. It’s not quite as cracker thin as some other crusts but that is for the best, since they aren’t shy with the toppings either, the same good sweet Italian sausage they used in the Fritz, a terrific tomatoey sauce, savory and bright, and plenty of cheese.

Unfortunately I did not like their Freddy quite as much. Here the sausage and sauce both seemed different, the sausage spicy instead of sweet, the sauce more green pepper forward than the brighter, more tomatoey sauce used in the Fritz or even the pizza I had. Perhaps it was simply that these grilled peppers were more assertive than I’d encountered previously. Each individual component of the sandwich was good, and I probably would have liked it just fine if I hadn’t tried the Fritz first, but I know when I go back–and I will be back–it will be for the Fritz and the pizza.

Calabria Imports: the Standard. I talked about Calabria Imports in that post on the Cudighi that I mentioned in my third paragraph, and I like them as much today as I did then. They’ve been around for almost 50 years now and every sandwich I’ve had there has been great. Besides, there’s just something about the place, some ineffable quality–they just seem to get me.

Their Freddy doesn’t try to be the biggest or the showiest. It’s just good, well-balanced, featuring a proportionally-sized rectangular patty of good Italian sausage cooked on a griddle, with a layer of melted cheese on top, topped with a bright and fresh-tasting marinara sauce and a few slices of sauteed green pepper. You can get fries with it but I’m a fan of their house-made potato chips.

Between the two descendents of the original Freddy lineage–Chuck’s Pizza and Calabria Imports–I’ll take Calabria’s version every time.

Theme from SuperDIY

We’re all built up with progress but sometimes I must confess
We can deal with rockets and dreams
But reality, what does it mean?
Ain’t nothing said,
‘Cause Freddy’s dead.

Well the reports of Freddy’s death may have been premature, but the truth remains that unless you’re in a pretty specific area of Chicagoland and go to one of the right places, you aren’t going to find a sandwich called Freddy.

So let’s make one ourselves. Use good, “sweet” Italian sausage with fennel seeds in it–zing it up with some red pepper flakes if you like a spicier sausage. Use good sausage though. To form it into a patty, I used plastic wrap to roll mine into a cylinder and then smashed it with the bottom of a plate to end up with a roughly rectangular patty. YMMV.

Because it has been brutally cold here in northern Illinois recently, I griddled the patty, making sure to brown it well, but I do think that grilling the sausage instead, even on a gas grill, would add something to it. I sauteed some long thick slices of green pepper in a bit of olive oil as well, and melted a handful of grated mozzarella cheese on top of the patty once it was cooked and ready.

This is a Turano brand French roll, one of the standard rolls used for Italian beef sandwiches in Chicago. I reheated it in a hot oven for a few minutes just to liven up the crust a bit, but it is otherwise untoasted, unbuttered. A cheese-covered Italian sausage patty and ladleful of Rao’s marinara sauce later, it is almost a Freddy.

The sweet peppers are key–sauteed green peppers like this are called “sweet peppers” in the context of Italian sandwiches, as opposed to “hot peppers” which refers to giardiniera. I have ordered this sandwich with hot peppers on it, and it’s fine. I think sweet peppers are the way to go here. I love my spicy foods, and I will get giardiniera on just about anything, but sweet peppers are part of what makes this a Freddy.

Don’t be misled–just think of Fred.

That combination of the sweet fennel-laced sausage and the natural sweetness of bell peppers enhanced by caramelization against the bright tomato-forward marinara sauce and the salty, stretchy mildness of melted mozzarella, all barely held together by the reliable, sturdy chewiness of a French roll, the kind of bread that can stand up to being filled with hot beef and dunked in gravy, that’s a Freddy. If you need it spicier, zhuzh up your sausage or marinara with some red pepper flakes–you don’t need the salty/sour spiciness of the giardiniera here.