In that part of the universe known as Chicago’s South Side, people consume a food virtually unknown on the other side of Madison Street: the Tom Tom Beef Tamale.
For three generations, South Siders have quietly feasted on the things, removing them from a wrapper inscribed with a quaint scene from another age: a small girl straight out of the Little Rascals beseeching a boy in knickers: “Oh! Give me a bite.”
But just as bouillabaisse once made its way from Marseilles to Paris, so the Tom Tom has finally invaded the North Side. The Dominicks grocery chain has begun carrying the item, making it available to a new audience of Chicagoans and north suburbanites.
Whether demand will extend to sale of the cultish tamales from pushcarts, a la the South Side, George Skalkos, general manager of the Tom Tom company, can only hope it will. Says he: “The tamale is an ally and companion to the hot dog. It’s easy to prepare at a pushcart. In ten minutes, it’s ready to eat. All you need is scissors to cut the ends.”
The brand name came about, or so the story goes, because the company “was once owned by two Greek fellows named `Athanasios,’ ” explains company president Nick Petros. “Since `Athanasios’ is somewhat of an exotic name in English, they were called `Tom.’ So, two Toms became Tom Tom.”
“Whether or not this is a true story I don’t know,” Petros admits, “but it’s a good story.”
The company was founded in 1937 and was first located on Damen Avenue before moving to its present site in an industrial district on south Washtenaw sometime in the late 1940s. According to Skalkos, a workforce of 12 to 15 employees helps produce and distribute 2.5 million tamales a year.
Petros can’t say for sure who created the distinctive wrapper illustration. But he has a theory. “I’ve joked for years that we were ahead of our time and we invented Pop Art.”
He thinks the illustration was produced in the 1930s, during the era of classic comic strips. If the girl on the wrapper isn’t related to Little Orphan Annie, they may have shared the same inkwell at one time.
As for competition, “The Tom Tom is a little different from a Mexican tamale,” Petros says. “For one thing, a Mexican tamale will have baking powder in it, and the outside is pastier in character. Ours is straight-out cornmeal. And meat in a Mexican tamale is shredded; ours is ground. Because the meat is ground completely, our spices blend more thoroughly.”
He sees an easy coexistence between the two types: “Sometimes you want thin crust pizza and other times deep crust. It’s the same with tamales.”
Mindful of what identification with Chicago has done for pizza and hot dogs, Petros describes his product as “the best Chicago-style tamale in America.”
Sounds like he has designs that go further than the North Side.
