“The Bear” put Italian Beef on the menu. And its home address is Chicago. So when I asked my bro-in-law who did it best, I ended up at a branch of Portillo’s which was founded in the Windy City but now has plenty of branches to go around. For my nickel it’s all in the gravy, a little 99-cent side of beefy, oily joy. The beef is paper-thin sliced and not dry or overcooked. The bread is fantastic. The hot peppers are the perfect complement, though I know Chicagoans swear by their sweets. What brings it all together is cramming every bite into the gravy before you drip it all over your shirt. Add the crinkly hot salty fries and an unsweetened iced tea and you have arrived.