The Jibarito: An Iconic Chicago Sandwich with Puerto Rican Roots

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The Jibarito: An Iconic Chicago Sandwich with Puerto Rican Roots

Chicago’s having a moment right now. In no small part thanks to The Bear, Italian beef sandwiches and Pequod’s pizza are in vogue. Restaurants, food publications and social media users are doing their best to bring some of the Windy City’s most iconic foods to the masses outside of the Upper-Central Midwest.

I’ve gone on record before in saying that the Italian beef may very well be my favorite (non-burger) sandwich and that hot dogs dragged through the garden aren’t very far behind. But there’s one more Chicago sandwich that hasn’t gotten the same time in the limelight: the jibarito.

This sandwich, typically served with a choice of meat (usually lechon), cheese, mayonnaise, shredded lettuce and tomato, has no bread. Instead, ingredients are sandwiched between two smashed and fried plantains—also known as tostones or patacones—and sometimes topped with fine-minced garlic and butter. “Jibarito” literally translates to “little yokel,” and it’s become a staple in Latin and Caribbean cuisine in Chicago since its introduction almost 30 years ago.

Chicago legend has it that restaurateur Juan “Peter” Figueroa invented the sandwich at his restaurant, Borinquen Restaurant in the city’s Humboldt Park neighborhood, but he’s gone on record to say that he was trying to emulate a sandwich served at Platano Loco in Aguada, Puerto Rico. 

If you’ve never had a jibarito before, you need to try one—they’re really just that good. The fried plantains are at the same time crunchy and soft, making for the perfect substitute for bread. With mayo spread on the inside and (sometimes) minced garlic and melted butter drizzled over the top, the plantains’ softly sweet, vaguely creamy flavors become luxurious. Tomatoes and lettuce cut the initial creaminess just enough to buffer the coming tender, juicy, rich lechon without ever compromising the unbeatable combo of garlic and butter.

You’ll find a number of different meat (and some vegetarian) options at many of the places serving jibaritos scattered throughout Chicago (mostly in the city’s north and west sides). While I know I’ve definitely had beef and chicken, the jibarito de lechon at my go-to—the original Jibaritos Y Mas—blows just about every other version of the sandwich that I’ve had out of the water. The roast pork is consistently juicy and just bursting with flavor, all while being perfectly tender. It’s got an ideal texture for a sandwich, the same way thick-cut slabs of corned beef fall apart on an Irish pub-style Reuben.

There’s no denying that the jibarito is classically Midwestern invention in spirit. Whether it’s Detroit-Style Pizza or a Chicago-style hot dog, Midwestern food is defined by the people who make the circumstances they’re in work. Ever since Puerto Ricans started coming to the city in droves nearly 100 years ago, the Puerto Rican community and culture has been vital to the development of Chicago’s neighborhoods, especially on the northwest side.

As much as tavern-style pie and pizza puffs may be Chicago-ass Chicago food, the jibarito also deserves its time in the limelight. I don’t think you’re likely to see a TV show about a scrappy jibarito shop struggling to keep up with bills and changing customer tastes anytime soon, nor will it sit as comfortably on “Things to Do in Chicago” lists by publications from out of town as the eponymous, picturesque dog piled high with pickled delights, but it’s one of Chicago’s greatest foods that you’re not likely to find many other places outside of the city.

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