Frugal gourmet

It's hard to imagine much good coming out of this century's great recession, which, if you believe the predictions, will be just an uncomfortable memory by this time next year. But if you think purely in terms of food, it's not impossible to imagine a silver lining. The Great Depression, after all, gave us the Chicago-style hot dog, which got its start when street vendors piled on the toppings and marketed their dogs as a full meal on a bun. Here's just a sampling of what we've gained--or been reintroduced to in a big way--since falling on hard times.

Frosting shots
We should have seen this one coming. The spread of the now ubiquitous $4-plus cupcake was the harbinger. But if gourmet cupcakes are mini-luxuries that can make you feel flush even when you're down to your last Benjamin, frosting shots are the ultimate recession splurge. Ditch the cake, knock a couple of bucks from the price, and what remains? A tiny cup of frosting that delivers a little hit of happiness. Loop cupcake shop Sugar Bliss doles out chocolate buttercream, vanilla buttercream and cream cheese frosting shots daily for a buck apiece, as well as shots of whatever they have on hand to frost the day's cupcakes (cappuccino, strawberry, etc.). At the Cupcake Counter, a new spot in the Loop, vanilla buttercream and chocolate frosting shots ($1.25 each) are served up in tiny edible cups made of solid dark chocolate.

Corn dogs
What the Great Depression did for the hot dog, this recession has done for the corn dog, versions of which have snuck onto menus alongside $30-plus entrees. Why embrace this carnie classic in hard times? A thick layer of cornmeal batter doubles the size of a plain ol' hot dog without adding much to the cost; a hefty corn dog will sit in your stomach and keep you satisfied for hours. Within the next couple of weeks, chef Jared Van Camp plans to offer mini-corn dogs crafted using house-made smoky Wisconsin cheddar links as a menu special at Old Town Social. In November, look for a rabbit sausage corn dog ($10) with Goose Island Honker's Ale syrup for dipping at Hearty, the forthcoming Lakeview restaurant from Dan Smith and Steve McDonagh.

Fried dough
It's hard to imagine a food with lower overhead than fried dough (aka globs of unbaked bread fried to a golden brown). Aside from cost, fried dough has two other qualities essential in tough times: stick-to-your-ribs heartiness and an air of indulgence (because who doesn't consider a fried bowl of empty calories an indulgence?). At Elate, the new restaurant in the Hotel Felix, chef Randal Jacobs serves little rounds of fried dough ($5) as a bar snack with a side of pesto for dipping. At River North bar Martini Park, you'll find fried dough on the dessert menu, where its close cousins, fritters and beignets, more often appear. Here, the flash-fried dough ($8) is dusted with powdered sugar, topped with caramelized Granny Smiths and drizzled with warm caramel before it's served a la mode.

Fried chicken
Fried chicken has been an American tradition, in good times and in bad, since Colonel Sanders was in diapers. So it's not so much that we've seen a lot of fried chicken on menus in the last year, but rather it's where we've seen it. Fried chicken has made the leap from roadside attraction and soul-food staple to fare fit for white tablecloths, showing up everywhere from Randolph Street's ritzy One Sixtyblue, where chef Michael McDonald (pictured) recently began serving chicken dinners ($8) in the bar every Wednesday (6-10 p.m.), to classy Gold Coast spot Eve, where chef Troy Graves serves three pieces of fried chicken doused in rich crawfish gravy over a tasso ham waffle for brunch ($12). One Sixtyblue even takes the high-low fun one step further, offering glasses of Dom Perignon ($25) or Moet & Chandon Brut Imperial ($8) alongside the two-piece chicken dinner, which includes potato wedges, Asian pear slaw, buttermilk drop biscuits and tarragon aioli.

M. Kathleen Pratt is the Metromix dining producer. kpratt@tribune.com