We go to sporting events to watch sports, right? If hunger should strike, we can get one of those oversteamed hot dogs from a vendor with an aluminum box. They’ll have soda, too, or peanuts, or Crackerjack, or some pale beer, if we so choose, but the game’s the thing, and that’s why we’re there.
Well, sort of.
When I was growing up, to my family, the food at the games held as much if not more importance than who was on the playing field or what they were doing. We’d amble into the stadium and my mother would immediately announce that she was hungry. She would send my father to find a chocolate malt. He would return about halfway through the game, and we, much less baseball-literate than we are today, would be helpless to tell him what had been happening.
Like most large areas built in the name of leisure where people may stay for long periods (e.g. airports, amusement parks) stadiums have to offer some type of refreshment, and can usually be expected to charge about a 100-percent markup for it. In fact, you can easily spend more on food than admission at sports stadiums. Let’s face it, once you’re there, you’re pretty much trapped; it isn’t as if you can grill yourself something or order out. So you grit our teeth, stand in the lines, pay what you must (the average full-size meal with a drink and "side dish" — usually french fries — costs between $6.00 and $12.00) and hope for the best.
I recently visited Soldier Field, Wrigley Field, Comiskey Park and United Center to do some taste-testing. I learned, swiftly, that healthful eating was possible these days, but not high among stadium priorities. So, I sought out the food options that were the least unhealthy, and tasted the rest as well. And while I wouldn’t award a health food pioneering award to any of the stadiums, I must admit that the overall quality and selection of stadium food has improved greatly in the eighteen or so years I’ve been going to games.
Stadium nutrition (the exact figures for which I was unable to obtain) is certainly no worse than your average diner, fast food restaurant, or bar. Most of it is heavy and starchy, but it’s less fatty than it could be. There was actually more variety at Wrigley Field, Comiskey Park, and United Center than at many diners. (I will give Soldier Field the benefit of the the doubt and say that they may offer more food when the Bears are playing, but the selection at the Chicago Fire game I attended was pretty basic in comparison to the other venues, despite the fact that only Soldier Field offered Polish beer.) Of course, in addition to hot dogs and kosher dogs, most stadiums specialized in burgers, bratwursts, and pizza (usually from Connie’s). But there were a couple of surprises, namely the Wrigley Pig (BBQ pork) and Philly cheese steak at Wrigley, antipasto salad and jalapeno poppers at United Center, and the meatball sandwich and cinnamon roll at Comiskey Park. Here’s some of what I found.
The Main Course
First, the good news: some (small) effort is made to provide food for people avoiding red meat or all meat, with menu items such as gardenburgers, salads, turkey burgers, and grilled chicken breasts. I had a chicken breast sandwich at Comiskey, which was tasty but a tad underdone, and some decent-tasting gardenburgers at both Wrigley and Comiskey, which were identical, except for the fact that the Wrigley gardenburger had been waiting for me, wrapped up in foil under the heater, and the Comiskey gardenburger was cooked while I waited (and waited). You can also get a bagel and cream cheese at Wrigley Field for only $1.75. United Center used to sell bagels, but has discontinued them. I tried the turkeyburger at United Center, and sadly, it was practically tasteless, with the texture of processed cold cuts.
Actual vegetables and fruits are rare at stadiums, which is understandable, since they don’t keep very well. Yet there was a banana on the menu at one Wrigley Field stand — a frozen one covered in chocolate. Comiskey Park served elotes (corn) for a mere $2.25 at a stand about twice the size of the rolling stands that serve them in many neighborhoods. The corn, freshly removed from the cob, can either be served plain or drizzled with your choice of salt, butter, lime, red pepper, cheese, or mayonnaise. United Center actually served salads — Chicken Taco, Chicken Oriental and Cobb, all of which cost over $6.00, and a small garden salad for $3.75. A vegetable wrap was available too, but only at one stand. By the time I found it, the game was nearly over and the stands were closing.
Snacktime: Ice Cream and Tacos
Though it often took him much of the game, my father would always find my mother her chocolate malt, a paper cup full of hard, malty chocolate ice cream with a peel-off top and one of those flat wooden spoons in a paper package. I found nothing close to such a paper-cup malt at the games I recently attended, but regular ice cream was easy to find everywhere except Soldier Field. Comiskey Park and United Center even had waffle cones (for $3.25 and $4.50, respectively) and Wrigley Field offered a variety of ice cream truck novelties as well as a sundae served in a plastic baseball helmet for $3.00. I ate a pretty yummy strawberry freeze at Wrigley Field and some plain scooped-with-a-scoop vanilla at United Center that was fresh and delicious, not to mention smooth and gentle on my stomach, which had long since tired of this food-tasting thing, and was not-so-subtly pleading with me to stop eating and go home.
Ice cream is a difficult item to mess up, but Mexican food, I learned, can be ruined in ways I would never have guessed. I must say all four venues made valiant efforts. My first exposure to stadium Mexican food was the steak taco at Soldier Field. I wanted to pass it up, but its spicy hot smell finally won me over. It was tender, for dead cow, but the taste seemed to have been fried out of it. Not helping matters, I’m sure, was the fact that the stand was out of cheese and never had sour cream. Had I been thinking ahead, I could have saved the leftover cheese from the nachos my friend had eaten earlier.
As we entered Comiskey Park, I was immediately cautioned by my boyfriend, a long-time park patron, to avoid the Super Taco. "It’s a misnomer," he explained. "It’s a burrito, not a taco, and it’s not super, it’s actually a lot less than it should be. Just beany meat and not much else." Comiskey’s Mexican Pizza, however, was the best I’ve had. It had regular pizza crust, sweet, mild salsa in place of tomato sauce, and real cheddar cheese. It was topped with beef, and peppers and olives.
Then there was Comiskey Park’s quesadilla, semicircular and cut into four pieces for my salsa-dipping ease. This may be a vegan dish; the cheese seemed to be some type of synthetic ersatz thing. Whoever had been in charge of sprinkling the green chiles had simply dumped the can into the middle of the tortilla without bothering to drain it. A quick series of finger prods to the other three pieces showed that the consistency was the same throughout, with the exception of the very edges, where the tortilla was too dry and the cheese was too sparse.
Wrigley Field offered Deluxe Nachos, so named because of their sugary-bland chili (picture it being scooped out of a 96-ounce can) and the option of adding jalapéno peppers. I recommend sticking with plain ol’ regular cheese nachos.
The Club Scene
When you enter Wrigley Field at the Addison-Sheffield entrance you can walk right into Sheffield Grill, a friendly, laid back bar and grill with tables and TV screens, all showing the game. It’s open to all patrons and is a great place to relax and get psyched up before the game. It was clean and pleasant, only moderately crowded, with a number of young children present. Condiments were in good supply. Relish, ketchup, mayo and mustard were in packets, and hot dogs were even served with sauerkraut, if that was your pleasure. Abandoning all pretense of vegetarian concern, it was a meateater’s paradise, with such authentic items as a pork chop sandwich, a sizeable (about 1.5 inches thick) slab of pork which was grilled and served on an Italian roll.
Behind the frying area were color posters titled "Are you frying right?" and "Is it time to change the shortening?" It comforted me some, to know that the preparers cared about such things.
I ordered the chicken fingers (served on a bed of semi-spicy fries) and the fried cheese curd (actually breaded cheddar cubes - also served on a bed of fries, which I didn’t quite understand). The chicken fingers came with a cup of ranch dressing which had separated so I put it aside. When I returned to my seat my boyfriend asked jokingly if I had ordered the orange food ensemble and indeed, all three fried items had a distinct orange hue. The chicken fingers were good and tender. The actual chicken was cut in very thin pieces and the breading added bulk. They were a bit dry which I’m sure would have been improved by a more trustworthy cup of ranch. I saved a couple till the end of the game and discovered that they were one of the few stadium items that still tasted good cold. The fries were slightly spicy and crisp, and the cheese curds were delicious.
The Bull Pen at Comiskey Park, in stark contrast to Sheffield Grill, is no place for young children. In fact, identification is checked at the door, and alcohol flows freely inside. There is a waitstaff (not just a counter staff) and a kitchen in the back that cooks the usual meat-based favorites, including chicken breast sandwiches, Italian beef and sausage, and barbecued ribs. TV monitors are unnecessary, since you can see the game live from the Bull Pen. It is at dugout level, protected by a chain-link fence, literally inches from the playing area.
The Taste’s the Thing
Ideology aside, United Center seemed to get the best response for taste. Both of the friends I went with were very pleased with their good-sized bratwursts (though they were both irritated by the dryness of the bun, which we discovered was one of the Italian buns, perfect texture for Italian beef, but a little too coarse for bratwurst). My chili, (which they claimed was the same as the chili served at the nearby Cheli’s Chili bar (former Blackhawk Chris Chelios’ restaurant) topped with cheddar cheese and onions, was so tasty that once I started eating it, I didn’t look up at the game or my friends until I was completely through. As at all the other games, a number of fans walked by, saw me eating, and headed straight for the concession stands.
Wrigley Field came in a close second, with the exception of the chili nachos. Their hot ham and cheese ("It’s actually a pizza puff," the server warned, "but with ham and cheese in it") turned out to be tasty, in a processed sort of way.
Comiskey Park had a number of good-tasting items, but the quesadilla left the strongest (bad) impression. Soldier Field was the loser taste-wise, due mostly, I think, to its lack of good condiments. I found one, count it, one stand on the upper level that had something other than ketchup and mustard to put on its hot dogs. After a bland pretzel that claimed to be apple-cinnamon flavored and a couple of overpriced but sweet and chewy churros filled with jelly, I pretty much gave up on Soldier Field.
There’s Always Plan B
So the food at Chicago’s stadiums can be okay, or very lousy. Certainly, it’s improved; a vegetarian — or even a vegan can go to a game without absolutely having to smuggle or starve. Unfortunately, food quality isn’t always easy to predict or control. Personally, I’ll stick to eating before or after the games; there are plenty of restaurants on the way to and from all of the stadiums. Even Comiskey Park has Home Run Inn right up the street; its pizza is good enough to be mass-packaged for your grocer’s freezer section.
If you truly want something healthful and tasty, well, smuggling food into the park is probably slightly easier than smuggling it into a movie theatre. Just keep your shoulder bag down and flat, use pockets if you can, and try not to bring bottles, cans, or anything smelly. You didn’t hear that from me.