Chicago Bears Open Thread Question of the Day: What’s the perfect Chicago-style dish to pair with Bears football?

When it comes to the Chicago Bears, few things stir as much passion as football Sundays on the lakefront. But in Chicago, fandom is more than just cheering for your team—it’s about culture, identity, and traditions passed down through generations. And nothing complements that gritty, blue-collar spirit quite like the city’s iconic food scene. So when you sit down to watch the Bears, whether they’re grinding out a defensive slugfest or chasing down a playoff berth, there’s one important question every fan must answer: what’s the perfect Chicago-style dish to pair with Bears football?

Let’s start with the classic: the Chicago-style hot dog. This is not your average hot dog. It’s a flavor-packed, rule-bound masterpiece that starts with an all-beef frank nestled in a poppy seed bun. Then comes the toppings: yellow mustard, chopped onions, neon-green relish, tomato slices, a pickle spear, sport peppers, and a dash of celery salt. No ketchup. Never ketchup. The combination is a brilliant clash of textures and tastes—salty, sweet, spicy, tangy—and it reflects the diverse and unpretentious character of Chicago itself. Pair that with a cold beer and the sight of Soldier Field under cloudy skies, and you’ve got a quintessential Bears gameday experience.

Then there’s the Italian beef sandwich, a meat-lover’s monument that fits the soul of Bears football: tough, hearty, unapologetically messy. Thinly sliced roast beef is piled high on a crusty Italian roll, dunked in savory au jus, and topped with either sweet peppers or spicy giardiniera, depending on your taste. Some fans prefer it dry, others dipped or even “wet”—completely soaked in juices. It’s the kind of meal that drips down your hands as you shout at the TV during a goal-line stand, and that’s the beauty of it. It doesn’t just fill you up—it locks you into the moment.

Deep dish pizza is another titan in the conversation. Often debated, sometimes misunderstood by outsiders, deep dish is pure Chicago indulgence. The thick, buttery crust forms a basin for layers of mozzarella, sausage, chunky tomato sauce, and whatever toppings you crave. It takes time to cook, and it’s meant to be savored. Some fans argue it’s too much for gameday—too heavy, too rich—but for many Bears loyalists, that’s exactly the point. It’s not a snack. It’s a statement. A way to say, “If we’re going down with the Bears, we’re going down full.”

Of course, not everyone sticks to the big three. The city offers plenty of under-the-radar picks that deserve recognition. Maxwell Street Polish sausages, grilled and loaded with onions and mustard, are a smoky, spicy treat that’s both portable and satisfying. Then there’s the lesser-known but locally beloved jibarito—a Puerto Rican sandwich made with flattened, fried plantains instead of bread, usually filled with steak, garlic mayo, lettuce, and tomato. It’s a nod to the cultural patchwork of Chicago’s neighborhoods, the same neighborhoods that fill the stands in Section 300 and tailgate lots every Sunday.

Let’s not forget the snacks and sides that round out a proper Bears feast. Cheese fries, Garrett Popcorn (especially the famous Chicago mix of caramel and cheddar), and tamales all hold a place at the table. For many fans, the food is part of a family tradition. Maybe your dad always grabbed a bag of Italian sausage from the corner deli before kickoff. Maybe your aunt brought over her homemade pierogi every week. In Chicago, food is never just about taste—it’s about memory.

The question of “the best” Chicago-style food to pair with Bears football is, in the end, deeply personal. It depends on how you grew up, who you watched the games with, where you tailgated, and even which side of the city you call home. A North Sider might swear by the elegance of Lou Malnati’s deep dish, while a South Sider might tell you nothing beats an Al’s Italian Beef with extra giardiniera. Someone from the West Side might roll their eyes at the debate and suggest a classic Harold’s Chicken plate with mild sauce.

And that’s part of what makes the discussion so rich. Food is woven into the DNA of Chicago’s fandom. Just as the Bears carry with them the echoes of Halas, Butkus, Ditka, Payton, and Urlacher, the food we eat while watching them is passed through generations, shared at kitchen tables, backyard cookouts, and stadium parking lots. Whether you’re watching in a Wrigleyville bar packed shoulder to shoulder or streaming the game from a back porch in Little Village, your plate says something about where you’re from and who you root for.

Food also offers a kind of solace in the often-painful ritual of Bears fandom. Let’s face it: being a Bears fan isn’t easy. There have been highs—the ‘85 Super Bowl, Devin Hester returning the opening kickoff, Khalil Mack wrecking quarterbacks—but there have been more than a few lows. Whether it’s a missed field goal in the playoffs or an offseason filled with quarterback questions, Chicago fans have learned to find comfort in the familiar. And there’s nothing more familiar than the first bite of a loaded dog or a saucy slice of pizza.

Then there’s the social side. For many, Bears Sundays are about more than just football. They’re about gathering. Tailgates become makeshift kitchens. Cousins you haven’t seen in months show up with trays of food. Neighbors wave as they carry foil-wrapped trays down the block. Kids run around in Justin Fields jerseys while parents sip Old Style and argue about the offensive line. The food is part of the ritual, part of the community. And every dish has a story.

You can walk through different neighborhoods in Chicago on a Sunday morning and smell the game before you see it. Smoke from grills wafts through alleys. The scent of simmering giardiniera rises from apartment kitchens. Pizzerias prep for their busiest shift of the week. Even in the dead of winter, when the wind off the lake makes your bones ache, the smell of a grilled sausage and peppers can lift the spirit.

And for Bears fans living outside of Chicago, the food becomes even more important. It’s a taste of home, a way to stay connected to the city and the team. You might not be able to walk into Portillo’s or grab a Polish from Jim’s Original, but you can try to recreate those flavors wherever you are. Some fans mail-order Lou Malnati’s deep dish across the country. Others learn to make their own Italian beef in slow cookers. It’s not just about filling your stomach—it’s about carrying Chicago with you, no matter where you’re watching from.

As the Bears prepare for another season, the excitement builds—not just for the team’s potential, but for the return of Sunday rituals. And central to that ritual is food. So when kickoff nears and you’re setting up your spread, ask yourself: what’s the dish that feels like Chicago to you? Is it the satisfying crunch of a Chicago dog, the juicy chaos of an Italian beef, or the molten goodness of a deep-dish pie? Whatever your answer, know that it connects you to something bigger—millions of fans, decades of tradition, and the unbreakable bond between food, football, and the city of Chicago.