Schilo’s is one of those rare places that truly deserves to be called iconic, an institution, a shrine, even—one to rival that other one a couple of blocks away. Reeking of history and scented with sauerkraut, it is the city’s hallmark house of German food.

The popular delicatessen has occupied its present location since 1945, but its roots go back to 1917. It’s unlikely that most recipes have changed much since the institution’s inception. Tuesday’s corned beef, cabbage, and boiled potatoes are the stuff of local legend, and the dauntingly dense split pea soup—with or without franks or knockwurst—is fuel against the fiercest winter day. (If only we had fierce winter days.) Nor have plates such as ham hocks succumbed to contemporary manipulations; they remain stalwartly straightforward. It’s likely true that a croissant with chicken salad would not have profaned a plate in Papa Fritz’s days, but there is always chicken and dumplings to uphold tradition. (Do we really love them? No, not really—but we’re glad they’re there, if you know what we mean.) After 5 pm, wienerschnitzel and other heartier mains come out to play. Then, as at lunch, lines may breach the doors. Persevere.