Wow... I never thought I'd be able to review Pete's publicly...
This place is a huge part of my childhood. My father was a delivery driver here (a couple of times, actually). This was back in the 1980s (my father's first stint here was when the Chicago Bears won the Superbowl and I was in first grade!) At the time, it was owned by a family.
The mother and father, whose names I have sadly forgotten, owned the place (and lived upstairs -- you don't know how HOT it was there above the restaurant!). They had three sons, Joe, Vito, and Tom, and a daughter named Chris (I think) who was a waitress. Joe and Vito were big Italian guys, and they worked hard in the kitchen everyday. Very, very nice guys. Tom was a little alcoholic wife beater and he hated children.
Anyway, I spent many formative years in the kitchen of this place hanging out with the cooks and the delivery drivers (my father couldn't always afford a babysitter, and he was raising me by himself because he's awesome). The second time my father quit working for Pete's was because Tom was pissed off that I was in the kitchen and called me a little bastard (my father almost dropped him on the spot). Actually, he was surely pissed off about something else, probably a gambling loss, but he used the fact that I was standing off on the side in the kitchen as a reason to blow up and berate me (I was about 8 at the time). I used to help his mother peel garlic for the food...
Audrey, one of the women who took phone orders was also a babysitter for me once in a while... She lived in a bad neighborhood and one day while I was learning to ride a bike, a teenager that lived next door threw a rock at me and busted my head open (I was seven at the time). I still have a scar on my head from that (I'm 30 now)...
Fast forward 10 years and I was a bit of a hoodlum in my junior year of high school at Lane Technical High School ... Audrey still worked there... they had started selling pizza by the slice and she was always yelling at the high school kids not to steal the parmesan, pepper, and oregano shakers... I never understood why anyone would want one... One day I got annoyed by that and ... stole the oregano shaker ... every time my father ordered pizza after that she yelled at him to make me bring the oregano shaker back (which I eventually did).
Her daughter, who also used to babysit me when I was a kid, was murdered somewhere right around that time... I still remember the two of them running my bleeding head under the faucet in the kitchen...
I remember a lot more about that place, like learning to speak Spanish (¡Hablo Español bastante bien!), learning how to stop a spinning quarter so it balanced on edge, learning how to spell things like "nitroglycerin" and "chief", and all sorts of other random stuff... I met a wonderful young lady at Lane Tech who became something of a surrogate sister ... one day we were picking up a pizza for my dad and she decided to give me a huge hug in the parking lot ... and I subsequently dropped the pizza face down on the asphalt ... in the rain. Thankfully, my father didn't notice (it was wrapped in paper and the top is always wet from the oil anyway) ;-)
Anyway, the food was great back then. Pizza, lasagna, and mostaccioli were at the top of my list.
I've since grown up and moved to California. As you might imagine, I have a thing for cooking Italian food. I've been here for nearly ten years now, and I've never missed a Christmas in Chicago the entire time. It's pretty much a ritual for my father and I to order from Pete's on the way to his apartment after picking me up from the airport.
The restaurant was sold several years ago. The food is still pretty similar, although my father swears it's entirely different. I think it's still very good and I wouldn't hesitate -- as a proud Chicagoan -- to take the friends I've met around the world to Pete's as a representative restaurant. To this day, a few of the drivers who were there when I was in first grade are still there, and they're great guys! read more