The best Maxwell Street Polish sausages in Chicago

Finding a great Polish sausage in Chicago is like spotting a “W” flag when the Cubs win or a pothole on Western Avenue: comically easy.

Explaining precisely what a Chicago-style Polish sausage is takes a little more time.

Despite the name, you won’t find one inside Chicago’s many great Polish sausage shops, like Andy’s Deli or Kurowski’s Sausage Shop. There you’ll encounter dozens of kinds of kielbasa, a term that simply means sausage in Polish. While you can pick up kielbasa surowa, a pale fresh sausage, or kielbasa weselna, a twice-smoked sausage, neither place serves what most Chicagoans expect on a bun. Instead, these sausages are made with solely pork and are on the milder side.

Chicagoans favor an aggressively seasoned, coarsely ground sausage that’s stuffed into a natural casing with an epic amount of garlic and then smoked. Usually, it’s made of a mix of pork and beef, though not universally. Most restaurants griddle it on a flat-top to crisp up the casing, though some prefer a level of crisp attainable only by dunking it in a deep fryer. Placed in a bun, the sausage is traditionally served with a swipe of yellow mustard, a heaping pile of soft sauteed onions, and a few spicy pickled chiles.

To say Chicago had a lot of Polish immigrants in the early 20th century is an understatement. According to “Polish Chicago: Our History, Our Recipes” by Joseph W. Zurawski, there were nearly 425,000 Polish residents in the city by 1928, representing its largest ethnic group and about 15% of the total population.

These immigrants brought along their traditional foodways, including their penchant for sausage-making. By then, some were already well established; 1918 proved to be a particularly fruitful year, when Mike Mikolajczyk started a sausage shop that would eventually become Andy’s Deli, and Joseph P. Slotkowski opened Slotkowski’s Sausage Company. (Remember the last one.)

Yet, it took an immigrant from a different part of Europe to help popularize the Polish sausage Chicagoans know and devour today.

Jim Stefanovic was born in the town of Gostivar in 1901, which is currently located in the country of Macedonia. (When he was born, it was actually part of the Ottoman Empire, before becoming part of Yugoslavia.) Stefanovic left Europe in 1939 for Chicago and quickly found himself hawking taffy apples at the Maxwell Street Market, the city’s largest outdoor market.

Stefanovic got a job at his aunt’s hot dog stand at the northwest corner of Maxwell Street and Halsted Avenue. According to Stefanovic’s grandson, Jim Christopoulos, he bought the stand from his aunt, renamed it Jim’s, and looked to differentiate it from a crowded field. “At first, he was just selling hot dogs, but he wanted something new,” Christopoulos said. “So he went to Slotkowski’s and had them make a sausage for him. Then he added the sauteed onions and mustard. That’s how it started.”

While this sausage had many characteristics of traditional Polish sausages, particularly kielbasa zwyczajna, “The Chicago Food Encyclopedia” notes the new creation also had similarities to a hot dog, “but with larger-diameter hog casings and more aggressive spicing.”

This sausage became such a hit, copycat operations popped up. Express Grill, which is currently located right next to Jim’s Original, was actually started by one of Stefanovic’s nephews. Eventually, the Polish sausage became so synonymous with the market, the dish became known as a Maxwell Street Polish. Even after the area was cleared to make way for the expansion of the University of Illinois at Chicago, you’ll still find dozens of restaurants scattered around the city serving strikingly similar menus, all with Maxwell Street in their names.

Where are these Maxwell Street Polish sausages coming from? Most restaurants are tight-lipped about their sources. Christopoulos gladly told me that Jim’s Original started with Slotkowski’s and then moved to Bobak’s, but he now has a different provider that he didn’t want to name. (Most of the stand owners said they simply didn’t want their competitors to know.)

I do know several places use sausage from Makowski’s Real Sausage Company in the Bridgeport neighborhood. But the number of businesses making excellent Polish sausages is long, including Vienna Beef, Bobak Sausage Co., Harczak’s Sausage Company, Slotkowski Sausage Co., Ashland Sausage Co., Crawford Sausage Co. and many more. (Soon, I’ll have a post where I taste test them all.)

If I’ve learned anything from eating dozens of Polish sausages, it’s that, like Chicago’s best hot dogs, a natural casing is crucial. A skinless Polish sausage lacks the assertive snap, tasting wimpy and frail. Also, the best ones tend to have some beef in the mix. A pork-only Polish sausage doesn’t quite stand out on a bun, tasting better when served on a plate.

Here are my favorite places to score a Maxwell Street Polish sausage in Chicago.

Jim’s Original

It’s hard to beat the original. A Polish sausage at Jim’s always has a pleasingly crisp casing that gives way to an incredibly juicy and garlicky interior. Thanks to the piles of onions sautéing on the flat-top, waves of sweet and pungent aromas swirl around your head. A couple of pickled chiles on the side lend both a sharp heat and acidity.

One reason Jim’s is always so good is you never have to worry about sausages hanging around for too long. No matter the hour, there’s always a crowd. “I know half of our business is Polish sausage,” owner Jim Christopoulos said, estimating that the original location (a second opened last year) serves 500 to 1,000 each day. “Over the years we’ve sold hundreds of thousands, maybe millions of Polish sausages.”

1250 S. Union Ave., 312-733-7820; 2775 N. Elston Ave., 872-206-5279; jimsoriginal.com

Lazic Deli

If you’re looking to try a Polish sausage straight from the source, visit Lazic Deli in Norwood Park. It shares the same owners and building as Harczak’s Sausage Company, which Mike Harczak opened in the late 1950s. Current owner Aleks Lazic continues the fine sausage-making tradition with the Maxwell Street Polish sausage. Each one gets a brief dip in a deep fryer to crisp up the casing, before finishing up on the grill. It’s served in a large roll with yellow mustard, sauteed onions, and, I’m happy to report, giardiniera.

7035 W. Higgins Ave., 773-631-8400, lazicdeli.com

Fixin’ Franks at Home Depot

Inside approximately 17 Home Depot locations, you’ll find a tiny hot dog stand by the exit called Fixin’ Franks. Owned by Conley Shirley, the stand immediately attracts attention for serving phenomenal Polish sausages from Makowski’s. While you can get one topped with the standard yellow mustard, sauteed onions and pickled chiles, what you really want is the JPG Maxwell Street Polish. This collaboration with the excellent Italian grocery store J.P. Graziano’s adds crunchy, spicy giardiniera on top. This turns out to be an excellent addition, one that I’d love to see picked up by more places around town.

Multiple locations, instagram.com/fixinfranks

Flub a Dub Chub’s

If you’re eating an all-beef Polish sausage, then you are undoubtedly trying one from Vienna Beef. Extensive testing left me with the conclusion that most places go with the skinless version, which doesn’t have the crisp casing I crave. Fortunately, there are still several places that serve the natural casing version. My favorite can be found at Flub A Dub Chub’s, the tiny subterranean hot dog stand in Lakeview. The sausage develops black char marks from the grill, lending each beefy bite a smoky edge.

3021 N. Broadway, 773-857-6500, flubadubchub.com

Kimski

The vast majority of Polish sausages in Chicago automatically come with yellow mustard, sauteed onions and pickled chiles. The best exception is Maria’s Standard at Kimski. It may start with a plump Polish sausage, scored slightly on top to crisp up while grilling, but then comes mustard spiked with soju, the clear Korean alcohol. On top is a sprinkle of scallions and a whole heap of bright purple kraut-chi, a Kimski creation fusing sauerkraut and kimchi. Even the bun is different. Instead of the regular squishy offering, Kimki uses an extra plush and buttery brioche bun made by Spoke and Bird. Hopefully, this fantastic creation will inspire more chefs to experiment with the sausage.

954 W. 31st St., 773-823-7336, kimskichicago.net

Kaiser Tiger

Looking to branch out from the standard sauteed onions and yellow mustard? Check out this beer and sausage stop in the West Loop. Here, the Polish sausages come with spicy horseradish mustard and just enough sauerkraut to add a tang to each bite. The sausage itself has an incredibly crisp casing, before giving way to the juicy interior.

1415 W. Randolph St.; 312-243-3100; kaisertiger.com

Portillo’s

Most restaurants were extremely hesitant to let me know where they sourced their Polish sausages. But not Portillo’s. The chain’s website proudly declares that it uses Makowski’s for its chargrilled Maxwell Street Polish sausage. The shop may use a poppy-seed bun for its version, but otherwise sticks to the traditional Maxwell Street toppings of yellow mustard, sauteed onions and, if you’d like, a few sport peppers.

Multiple locations; portillos.com

All of restaurants with ‘Maxwell Street’ in their name

In Chicago, adding “Maxwell Street” to your restaurant’s name signals certain things. First, it’ll specialize in Polish sausages, with hot dogs, burgers and pork chop sandwiches in a secondary role. Second, everything will be topped with sweet sauteed onions, mustard and pickled chiles. Third, you can forget about a dining room, though there may be a metal counter to stand next to.

One week I decided to eat at as many of them as I could, crisscrossing the city, from the West Side all the way down to suburban Dolton. And you know what? All of them were pretty great. While the fries ranged wildly in quality, the Polish sausages served at all of these restaurants were uniformly excellent. Essentially, if you see Maxwell Street in the name, you’re probably in luck.

Maxwell Street Depot, 411 W. 31st St., 312-326-3514

The Original Maxwell Street, 3801 W. Harrison St., 773-940-2270, theoriginalmaxwellstreet.com

Chicago’s Original Maxwell Street, 5304 S. Western Ave., 605-313-0713

Maxwell Street Express, 7901 S. Wentworth Ave., 773-952-7655

Maxwell Street Polish 79th Street Grill, 7901 S. Chicago Ave., 773-768-3976

Maxwell Street Polish, 7445 S. State St.

J.J. Sausage Maxwell Street, 1320 Sibley Blvd., Dolton; 708-896-6520

nkindelsperger@chicagotribune.com