Nothing bellows “PLAY BALL!” like a spicy tuna roll. At least that’s the case at Stella’s Batting Cages in southwest-suburban Lyons, where for most of its 31-year history batters at one of the 12 indoor fast- and slow-pitch machines sustained themselves with industrial-grade fast food: dogs, corned beef, burgers, fries, nachos, pizza puffs, a Reuben if you were fancy.
His menu for the snack bar adjacent to the circular configuration of automated ball spitters riffs on the regional nouveau-signature snack foods of various major league ballparks. There’s the brat banh mi with pickled jicama and Kewpie mayo-mustard blend from Miller Park in Milwaukee. There’s the Korean fried pork belly sandwich with grilled pineapple and “Korean red pepper paste” from the home of the Philadelphia Phillies, a fried chicken waffle cone from Houston, a Cuban sandwich named for Jose Canseco, and some off-the-cob elotes named for Comiskey Park—which sounds way more appetizing than something named after Guaranteed Rate Field.
I know what you’re thinking. But while sushi at the batting cages seems only slightly less dubious than sushi from the gas station, it’s my job to eat. So I opted for the tuna, rolled to order into a tightly jacketed cylinder of firm, fresh flesh and rice that makes the idea of eating raw fish at a snack bar not seem wildly ill-advised.
