Superdawg Drive-In   

In a town where hot dogs are revered, it's no wonder a joint has to dress their dogs in a come hither fashion. In the case of Maurie Berman's Superdawg Drive-In, the two 12-foot boy and girl wieners atop the 1940s-era drive-in, are clad in Tarzan and Jane duds and spend the night winking at each other. This isn't simulated retro -- the Chicago institution is the real deal, where you place an order on the "Order Matic" speakers outdoors, then wait for the carhop to affix your meal to the side of your car. One look at the kitschy red box holding your dog or burger and you'll wish your name was Chip, Biff, Flo or, at least, Debbie. The contender for the best hot dog in the city lies in a time-honored poppy seed bun, covered in golden mustard, neon green relish, kosher dill pickle, chopped Spanish onions and a spunky hot pepper, just to remind you that you're in Chi-caw-go. (Ketchup on a Chicago style hot dog is considered an abomination unless you're in kindergarten.) The pure beef hot dog contains nary a trace of pork, veal, cereal or fillers, giving it the requisite snap, and all sandwiches are served with crinkle-cut Superfries -- the object of young boys' fantasies before puberty sets in -- peeled, cut and fried fresh every day. If you must, there are also chicken, grilled cheese, steak, fish and other Super sandwiches as well as a "Whoopskidawg" -- a char-broiled Polish sausage, basted in special sauce, served on a Whoopskiroll, with grilled onion and a pickle. Wet the pipes with a soda, malt, shake or Black Cow. Superdawg Drive-In is as much a part of Chicago history as the Mayors Daley I and II and the Cubs, but sports a much better track record.