Piggybacking on last Friday’s venture into Detroit Pizza, we continue our exploration of Midwest specialties with Chicago Italian beef, although this time one of the contestants is actually in Chicago, where we visited last weekend.

Al’s #1 Italian Beef*, which opened in 1938, is generally regarded as the first eatery to commercialize the sandwich, which was developed in the Windy City’s poor Italian neighborhoods in the first half of the 20th Century.

For a Bay area opponent, we chose Wrigley’s Pizza on the north end of St. Petersburg. The Italian Beef sandwich is its “signature handheld.”

I recognize that, on paper, this is a blatant mismatch. Let’s find out.

AL’S #1 ITALIAN BEEF

As our friend Cam showed us around neighborhoods on Chicago’s north side last Sunday, Bonnie and I wore sweaters and basked in sunny skies and temps in the mid-50s. At 1:15, we found metered parking (for a measly $2.50 an hour!) directly in front of the Al’s #1 location that’s a five-minute walk from Wrigley Field.

We entered the small, flatiron-esque building to find a narrow space with a long counter and a few hightops. I told the counter man that we were new to the Chicago Italian beef experience and damn if he didn’t act like he’d heard that story before. He half-heartedly mumbled the ways to order the sandwich, and Bonnie and I ultimate decided to split a Jumbo Beef ($18.40), wet (not soaked or dipped), with sweet peppers, plus a large side of Hand-Cut Fries ($4.45).

We waited with baited breath to see the sandwich because Bonnie had to do so much unwrapping. I was glad she was doing the dirty work, metaphorically speaking. While I wouldn’t describe the size as “jumbo,” it was substantial.

Taste and Texture

As advertised, the pillowy Italian bread was thick with thinly sliced beef, which was appropriately tender, with juices that made the meat all the more savory. The menu describes “wet” as “beef forked onto the bread.” I wouldn’t have minded if Al’s #1 had dripped on an extra dose of juice. The sandwich was by no means dry, but the wet could’ve been wetter.

Chunks of pepper added a slight element of crunch and, in accordance with the name, sweetness. Bonnie and I easily polished off our halves. The fries, which came out hot-hot in their cardboard holder, were first-rate. We finished those, too.

WRIGLEY’S PIZZA

From its name, to the posters on the walls, to the vintage Bears game playing on the TV behind the bar, Wrigley’s is a shrine to the Windy City.

The interior has your basic sports bar look. On one wall, there are several TVs linked side-by-side. We sat at a booth near the back, where I had a perfect view of the Knicks/Cavaliers game. Seeing as Bonnie was sitting across from me, I only stole the occasional glance.

Wrigley’s was doing solid business, and our server, Victoria, was a blur. That’s not a knock. The young woman had several tables and was straight-up velocious.

I ordered the Wrigley’s Italian Beef ($14) with sweet peppers ($1). No charge for the side of fries.

Appearance

Much more a restaurant presentation. No exhaustive unwrapping necessary. The sandwich was smaller, the bread crustier, and a bowl of juice sat next to the sandwich.

Taste and Texture

This sandwich was not wet. However — the mini-container of tasty jus was just right for dipping, allowing me to calibrate the wetness of each bite. The meat was tender — on par with the competition’s — but the peppers made little impression. I was not familiar with the “famous Chicago Turano roll” that encased the beef, but it was up to par, not overly crusty on the outside.

Let me go out on a limb and suggest that these fries were not hand-cut. But I hadn’t eaten crinkle-cuts in a while and they were pretty good.

I easily dispatched the sandwich, and Bonnie — who had ordered a small pizza — helped me with the fries.

The Winner of the Tampa Bay vs. Chi-Town Showdown Over Chicago Italian Beef Sandwiches Is …

Al’s #1 Italian Beef.

Although not the knockout that the matchup suggested on paper.

* Al’s #1 Italian Beef operated under the misnomer Al’s Bar B-Q until 1980, when Chicago Magazine named it the city’s No. 1 Italian Beef Sandwich. That prompted a name change. Clunky, but more on-brand.