Chris Zucchero, owner of Chicago’s beloved Italian sandwich shop Mr. Beef, is on the “L” trying to get a word in on the phone. He just wrapped up a long two days of catering parties for FX’s “The Bear” Season 2, providing hot Italian beef sandwiches with sweet peppers and spicy giardiniera for Hollywood’s finest.

“The Bear” creator Christopher Storer — who Zucchero has been friends with since kindergarten — based “The Bear” on the classic establishment and shot about 90% of the pilot in Mr. Beef. Storer even cast Zucchero in the pilot as the guy in the parking lot who deals meat to Jeremy Allen White’s character Carmy.

Still, Zucchero hasn’t watched a single episode of “The Bear,” and probably won’t ever. It’s not for lack of interest or support — he just can’t afford to lose sight of the restaurant that’s been feeding Chicago for six decades, since his father acquired the original Mr. Beef in 1979.

“Somebody’s still got to wake up the next day and make beef,” Zucchero says. “The only thing I’ve ever known in my life is that restaurant.”

Zucchero spoke to Variety to share more about his friendship with Storer, how they recreated the restaurant on a soundstage — down to the stains on the wall — and “The Bear’s” long-lasting impact on Mr. Beef.

Could you share a bit about your relationship with Chris Storer? I actually didn’t know that you two were friends until the other day, when I called into Mr. Beef.

I’ve known Storer since we were in kindergarten or first grade. I remember one time when we were kids, we were re-enacting “Ghostbusters,” and there’s a scene where Bill Murray’s character pulls a tablecloth from a table and all the dishes stay intact. And I always remember Storer directing that scene for us to act out. That kid was bound to be a director and writer.

So you guys stayed friends?

After high school — this is 1999, kind of pre-social media — the only way you could really contact me was if you came downtown to Mr. Beef. And Storer was of a handful of people that would come visit post-high school. I knew he went to L.A. very early on after we graduated, but anytime he was in Chicago he made sure to come to Mr. Beef and see me.

And how did he approach you about the show?

Years ago, he said, “I’m gonna write about Mr. Beef. I can guarantee you that.” And then I said, “Don’t fucking Hollywood talk me, for one. You’ve been out there too long, don’t bullshit me.”

Then one day, while I was living in Minnesota, I got a call from the restaurant and it’s Jason, my right-hand man. And he was like, “I got this notice from a location company called ‘The Bear’ and it’s some sort of pilot.”

Two weeks went by and I came back to Chicago and out of nowhere I see this huge charter bus pull up. All these people come walking out looking like Hollywood suits people, and then I see Storer walking off the bus and he’s like, “Remember I told you I was gonna write about this place? Well, we’re going to do it. I got this pilot and it needs to be done here at Mr. Beef. Are you okay with that?” And I was like, “Yeah, absolutely. Knock yourself out.” I didn’t realize the gravity of it all then. At the time, Storer had only done a thing with Chris Rock and “Ramy,” which I think is a far better show. I’ve never actually seen “The Bear.”

Wait, you haven’t actually watched “The Bear”? Why not?

This might sound a little arrogant, but we’ve never paid for any advertisement or PR for Mr. Beef, but we’ve been very lucky. Like Jay Leno and his friendship with my father is really what made Mr. Beef famous. So over the years I’ve been on the Food Network, Travel Channel, I’ve talked to reporters — but I never read or watch anything that Mr. Beef is on.

Is it like a superstitious kind of thing?

No, it’s more embarrassment for me. I just feel weird. Food people are not the same as actors or musicians. You know what I mean? That’s the same reason why I don’t really promote anything with “The Bear.” I don’t want to be the guy that’s like, “Look at me. I’m the fucking ‘Bear’ guy.”

That’s really interesting because in the show, Carmy is trying to innovate The Beef into this new, upscale dining sort of thing, which I assume you probably would never do with Mr. Beef.

Abso-fucking-lutely not. Excuse my language. But I would never do that. I’m just very humbled by this whole thing.

So how much of the show was actually shot at Mr. Beef?

The pilot was shot entirely at Mr. Beef as far as the dining room, but the back of the house stuff was all shot in a separate kitchen. Then, when the show got picked up, they built Mr. Beef on a set at the Cinespace in the south end. They did it to a T, down to the stains on the wall. It was sort of a symbiotic thing they were doing, going to the set and then coming to Mr. Beef. It was amazing to see. And they still filmed the second season at Mr. Beef too, outside and in the front.

And how did you end up starring in the pilot?

One day somebody called me and said, “Are you Christopher Zucchero? You have an audition at 4 p.m. on Friday.” And I was like, “No, no, no, you must have the wrong guy. I’m the guy that owns the restaurant.” But then I just did it. Now I have a newfound respect for what actors do. It’s an incredibly hard thing to do.

I’m sure someone like Jeremy probably feels the same now after the show, just vice versa, about chefs and people in the restaurant business.

I think he does, because I think he’s genuinely a really good guy. Like I said, the entertainment world loves knocking on our door at Mr. Beef. And I’ve met a lot of assholes, but Jeremy was not one of them.

Even though you’ve always been celebrity-adjacent, did “The Bear” give you a real uptick in business?

Oh, I’ve talked about it every day since the show’s premiere. I make this dramatic joke that Mr. Beef used to have a true grit and now it’s like Central Perk from “Friends.” And I’m upset about it, but I love it. I love that people will cause an accident in front of my restaurant just to try to get a picture.

And what about your dad? What did he say about the whole thing before he passed away?

My dad was proud of it. My dad adored [Christopher Storer’s sister and ‘The Bear’ culinary producer] Courtney Storer, like, loved her so much. They had a very close relationship. And he was proud of Chris. He was honored, He was humbled. I remember when he was still alive during the first season, he was taking stem cells and he was really weak. But he said, “Tell that skinny fuck, if he ruins anything in our restaurant, I will crawl from this hospital and kill him.”

We have these lunch tables where people sit, and they took them apart piece by piece and brought them out through the window. And my dad was so concerned about that. We were like, “Dad, they’re taking stem cells from you right now. It’s fine, these people are professionals.” And, of course, when they put it back he was all, “Yeah, they did a great job.” But when they all left, he goes, “Look, they made a mark here.”

What are you doing to keep Mr. Beef the classic establishment that it always was?

I kind of built a wall in my brain not to lose sight of what we really are. We’re just the set for them. They gave me a bunch of promotional posters, so I just put one poster way in the corner, so people can see it. Storer has said Mr. Beef inspired the show, but for the record, he said that, not me. I try to distance myself from it, because somebody’s got to wake up the next day and make beef. I try to just keep everything and myself the same. It’s what I’ve known my whole life. The only thing I’ve ever known in my life is that restaurant.

Last question, but an important one: If I ever come visit Mr. Beef, what do I order?

The Italian beef — hot, sweet and juicy. That’s the Italian beef sandwich with hot peppers, which is the giardiniera, sweet peppers, which is bell peppers, and dipped. That’s the way to get it.

This interview has been edited and condensed.

(Pictured, left: Chris Zucchero and longtime employee “Big Head Fred” McGroom at Mr. Beef in Chicago.)