Length: 7.5 minutes (1,526 words)

If you enjoy this article please consider donating on PayPal.

When Paulina Market opened in 1949 the world was a very different place. The United States had just emerged victorious from World War II, the ethnic character of Chicago’s neighborhoods was extremely strong, and America was just beginning the process of homogenizing its culture. In the seven decades since, Chicago’s urban fabric has changed drastically, the culture has swung from right to left and back again (more than once), and the homogeneity that was formed in the 1950s has been put on its last legs.

One area that has largely resisted the diversification of the culture is, oddly, food. But not food as in “fine dining,” or “casual,” or even “fast casual.” Those scenes long ago shook off their supper club and French brassiere roots and splintered into a million different camps, each with its own fingerprint on its own scene. It is shopping for food that has remained surprisingly stagnate over time. There is either hyper-local shopping, like farmers markets, or hyper-generic shopping, like grocery store chains. But in large part, there is no in-between.

Except Paulina Market. Upon entering, one is immediately greeted with several things: a wooden pig head that feeds counter tickets from its mouth, a church pew that can sit an overflow crowd, and the smell of dozens of different meats (smoked and raw) wafting through the air. This, truly, is a butcher. Originally a German deli — the distinction is important — on Chicago’s North Side, Paulina has evolved with the times while remaining true to its roots.

“We’re always going to try to get the best [product]. If it’s not the best, we don’t keep it. We send it back,” said Bill Begale, the owner of the marketplace. Begale has been at Paulina since 1984, except for a brief stint with a cheese business, and has owned the marketplace since 2006 when he bought it from the sons of the founder, Sigmund Lekan. In 2009 he purchased the property as well.

“This used to be a strictly German market because this was a German neighborhood,” he explained. “But I saw a German deli not too far from here go out of business because they wanted to stay strictly German. And they’re gone.” Asked about the key to Paulina’s long-term success and sterling reputation, he cited consistency, “and always try[ing] to evolve with the times.”

At first glance, being consistent and being open to change seem to be concepts at odds with each other. But any visit to Paulina Market shows that not to be the case. What makes Paulina so lauded, so popular, so well-known, so respected is the attention to detail, both to its products and its customers.

“We always give [the customer] what they’re asking for,” Begale said. He then proceeded to list a sample of the ways the market has changed with the times: “When I started here in ’84 we had no freezers. Then we had freezers out there” — he pointed towards a corner — “and we had turkeys and gizzards and ducks and chickens. Then we started adding pastas, then soups. We have to offer other stuff,” he said, “while keeping the core of what we do.”

Paulina currently offers a staggering amount of meat, the core of its business, which can be bought fresh, frozen, or smoked. Their suppliers are mostly (although not exclusively) Midwestern, and dressing the meat is mostly done in-house. Fresh meat includes almost every cut imaginable, including Wagyu (newly stocked due to customer demand, Begale said), tomahawk steaks, ribeyes, tenderloin, T-bone, eye of round, top sirloin, prime New York strip, skirt, flatiron, beef oxtails, and multiple cuts of veal, lamb, and pork. Chicken, ducks, and turkey are also available.

Smoked meats include multitudes of sausage and sausage “stix,” brats, jerky, links, beef chips, and more. The frozen meats, located in the freezers that make up the center of the store, include rare and exotic finds like ostrich patties, buffalo (patties, ribeye, or ground), venison, rabbit, pheasant, elk patties, wild boar, and more. The store used to carry alligator burgers, which sold well, but Begale “can’t get them anymore.” There is also a small beer and wine section, condiments area, and candy. There is not much in the way of produce, but this is a butcher shop, not a grocery store.