Chicago
Way back in 1990, I was dragged to see "Pretty Woman", like pretty much every other high school boy with a girlfriend. As a fairy tale type of movie, it was okay. I didn't especially love it or hate it, but it did make me want to be the CEO of a large corporation for a while. Mock if you must. Go ahead...I'll wait.
All done? Good.
So, I only had the vaguest idea of what Richard Gere's character actually did, but that was enough for me to spend my first year of college in Business. I got over that after a while (although I do still have a miniature pool table like the one on Jason Alexander's desk), but every so often, something will jog that part of my brain that wants to make a lot of money and live it up, fancy style. Chicago did that a bit.
Let's get the bad points out of the way first. Chicago is definitely on my list of "nice to visit, wouldn't want to live there" places. For starters, it's incredibly expensive, compared to everywhere else I've lived, even Atlanta. There's just no comparison. I'm sure you can live way out on the outskirts or in seedy areas of town, and it's maybe a little cheaper, but where's the fun in that?
Atlanta drivers are maniacs - they'll happily do 90 mph on I-285, cutting each other off and waiting until the last possible second to get over onto an exit ramp, but they're good at it. It is at most times like some sort of speedball-fueled clockwork machine. Chicago drivers, on the other hand, suck by my standards. They're basically a bunch of horn-happy amateurs with no concept of common courtesy or motor skills.
Our hotel, the W Chicago, was swank with a capital A. In fact, it needed to get over itself. It was the sort of place where the staff wore all black and had little earpieces. It was very hip and wanted you to know this. However, it was very nice on a number of levels, and I certainly have no complaints about it, so this is not really a bad point. However, I do tend to prefer a pub or dive bar atmosphere.
The dining, wow. The "worst" meal I had was at Joey Buona's, and there was nothing at all wrong with it. It was pretty decent, a little better than you would expect to get at Applebee's or such, and not really any more expensive. Plus, they offer a 36oz "big ass martini". So, winner there. The hotel restaurant had tasty food, but it was of course at hotel restaurant prices, and the portions were quite small. The waffle I had Sunday morning was one of the best waffles I can remember having, but it was a waffle. The other restaurants we went to were amazing.
Thursday night was Emilio's, a Spanish tapas place. I had the pato con couscous y pimientos, also known as grilled duck breast served over a bed of couscous with marinated roasted peppers and sherry vinaigette. We crashed pretty early, having gotten up early and driven a while.
After waking up at the crack of noon on Friday, we had lunch at the hotel during a brief summer rainshower, which finished up just as we did. Afterwards, we wandered through a charming little park (which I believe to have been Olive Park) to the Navy Pier, which was part boardwalk, part shopping center, and part tourist trap. We basically just glanced inside the pier itself, which was quite mall-like, and then went and hopped on a ferry for an architectural tour of the Chicago river. I took all the pictures my camera would handle without a memory card, but I haven't built a page for them yet, so too bad you. The tour itself was really interesting, and the overcast sky kept any more thoughts of rain to itself.
Friday night, Denise and I waited in the Whiskey Sky (33rd floor of the W) for my parents and their friends Carl and Paula. Dinner was at The Whiskey Bar & Grill, apparently owned by Cindy Crawford's husband. I didn't see her around, so couldn't ask. I don't actually remember what I had for dinner, besides several Stoli'n'cranberries, a pint of Guinness, and a glass of shiraz, but I'm sure it was delicious. After dinner, we walked a couple of doors down, staggering only slightly, to the Back Room. Again with the expensive, but the drinks were strong, and despite reports to the contrary, I found the staff generally pleasant. The band had a name, but it escapes me; they were quite good however.
Our ride home on Friday night turned out to be the luckiest cab in the world. I have no idea how it earned that title, but Dominick swore it was so, and it was his cab, so who am I to argue?
Saturday, Denise and I took off into the city on our own, walking up to the Magnificent Mile. I had actually steeled myself against the certainty of Denise wanting to do some shopping, and was fully prepared to entertain myself inside Sak's, Nordstrom's, etc, but she didn't seem at all interested. We found Joey Buona's for lunch, which is essentially a slightly upscale pizzeria; decent food, friendly staff. When asked about nearby museums and such, our server advised us to hop two streets over and check out the Chicago Visitor's Center, which would have all the info we needed, right down to which bus to take. We spent the time waiting for the bus watching a troupe of three acrobats across the street, who performed feats of strength and agility unknown to the common man.
We successfully took the right bus to the right stop, a minor victory that I was pretty pleased about. Outside the museum was a line of kids doing the drumline thing on those big white plastic buckets. They were pretty incredible. The museum itself was enjoyable; they had a Seurat exhibition going on. We got there too late to see more than a quarter of the museum, and sadly, I didn't have my digital camera with me. Such is life.
Saturday night, we went to Phil Stefani's, also on Rush street. Our waiter was very personable, and the atmosphere was just right. I had the Tortelloni di Vitello Burro e Salvia, which turned out to be tortelloni filled with aromatic ground veal, served with brown butter and fresh sage. It was very tasty, but Denise's veal medallions with prosciutto were better.
After dinner, we caught a cab to the Green Mill Cocktail Lounge, famous hangout of Al Capone. We happened to be there for a CD release party for Von Freeman, a tenor sax player who has been gigging around Chicago for about 70 years, I think. I liked the Green Mill just fine, and would have liked it more at another time, but I was burning up in there, and it was a little too crowded toward the front for my state of mind. Plus, they only take cash and AmEx, and I had neither and was out of smokes.
I'll post the tour pictures when I can. I did take a number of others with my phone. Share and Enjoy!
For those of you curious, I'll be back to working on LFM tomorrow.
Currently listening to: "Blue Ridge Way", drivin' n' cryin'
All done? Good.
So, I only had the vaguest idea of what Richard Gere's character actually did, but that was enough for me to spend my first year of college in Business. I got over that after a while (although I do still have a miniature pool table like the one on Jason Alexander's desk), but every so often, something will jog that part of my brain that wants to make a lot of money and live it up, fancy style. Chicago did that a bit.
Let's get the bad points out of the way first. Chicago is definitely on my list of "nice to visit, wouldn't want to live there" places. For starters, it's incredibly expensive, compared to everywhere else I've lived, even Atlanta. There's just no comparison. I'm sure you can live way out on the outskirts or in seedy areas of town, and it's maybe a little cheaper, but where's the fun in that?
Atlanta drivers are maniacs - they'll happily do 90 mph on I-285, cutting each other off and waiting until the last possible second to get over onto an exit ramp, but they're good at it. It is at most times like some sort of speedball-fueled clockwork machine. Chicago drivers, on the other hand, suck by my standards. They're basically a bunch of horn-happy amateurs with no concept of common courtesy or motor skills.
Our hotel, the W Chicago, was swank with a capital A. In fact, it needed to get over itself. It was the sort of place where the staff wore all black and had little earpieces. It was very hip and wanted you to know this. However, it was very nice on a number of levels, and I certainly have no complaints about it, so this is not really a bad point. However, I do tend to prefer a pub or dive bar atmosphere.
The dining, wow. The "worst" meal I had was at Joey Buona's, and there was nothing at all wrong with it. It was pretty decent, a little better than you would expect to get at Applebee's or such, and not really any more expensive. Plus, they offer a 36oz "big ass martini". So, winner there. The hotel restaurant had tasty food, but it was of course at hotel restaurant prices, and the portions were quite small. The waffle I had Sunday morning was one of the best waffles I can remember having, but it was a waffle. The other restaurants we went to were amazing.
Thursday night was Emilio's, a Spanish tapas place. I had the pato con couscous y pimientos, also known as grilled duck breast served over a bed of couscous with marinated roasted peppers and sherry vinaigette. We crashed pretty early, having gotten up early and driven a while.
After waking up at the crack of noon on Friday, we had lunch at the hotel during a brief summer rainshower, which finished up just as we did. Afterwards, we wandered through a charming little park (which I believe to have been Olive Park) to the Navy Pier, which was part boardwalk, part shopping center, and part tourist trap. We basically just glanced inside the pier itself, which was quite mall-like, and then went and hopped on a ferry for an architectural tour of the Chicago river. I took all the pictures my camera would handle without a memory card, but I haven't built a page for them yet, so too bad you. The tour itself was really interesting, and the overcast sky kept any more thoughts of rain to itself.
Friday night, Denise and I waited in the Whiskey Sky (33rd floor of the W) for my parents and their friends Carl and Paula. Dinner was at The Whiskey Bar & Grill, apparently owned by Cindy Crawford's husband. I didn't see her around, so couldn't ask. I don't actually remember what I had for dinner, besides several Stoli'n'cranberries, a pint of Guinness, and a glass of shiraz, but I'm sure it was delicious. After dinner, we walked a couple of doors down, staggering only slightly, to the Back Room. Again with the expensive, but the drinks were strong, and despite reports to the contrary, I found the staff generally pleasant. The band had a name, but it escapes me; they were quite good however.
Our ride home on Friday night turned out to be the luckiest cab in the world. I have no idea how it earned that title, but Dominick swore it was so, and it was his cab, so who am I to argue?
Saturday, Denise and I took off into the city on our own, walking up to the Magnificent Mile. I had actually steeled myself against the certainty of Denise wanting to do some shopping, and was fully prepared to entertain myself inside Sak's, Nordstrom's, etc, but she didn't seem at all interested. We found Joey Buona's for lunch, which is essentially a slightly upscale pizzeria; decent food, friendly staff. When asked about nearby museums and such, our server advised us to hop two streets over and check out the Chicago Visitor's Center, which would have all the info we needed, right down to which bus to take. We spent the time waiting for the bus watching a troupe of three acrobats across the street, who performed feats of strength and agility unknown to the common man.
We successfully took the right bus to the right stop, a minor victory that I was pretty pleased about. Outside the museum was a line of kids doing the drumline thing on those big white plastic buckets. They were pretty incredible. The museum itself was enjoyable; they had a Seurat exhibition going on. We got there too late to see more than a quarter of the museum, and sadly, I didn't have my digital camera with me. Such is life.
Saturday night, we went to Phil Stefani's, also on Rush street. Our waiter was very personable, and the atmosphere was just right. I had the Tortelloni di Vitello Burro e Salvia, which turned out to be tortelloni filled with aromatic ground veal, served with brown butter and fresh sage. It was very tasty, but Denise's veal medallions with prosciutto were better.
After dinner, we caught a cab to the Green Mill Cocktail Lounge, famous hangout of Al Capone. We happened to be there for a CD release party for Von Freeman, a tenor sax player who has been gigging around Chicago for about 70 years, I think. I liked the Green Mill just fine, and would have liked it more at another time, but I was burning up in there, and it was a little too crowded toward the front for my state of mind. Plus, they only take cash and AmEx, and I had neither and was out of smokes.
I'll post the tour pictures when I can. I did take a number of others with my phone. Share and Enjoy!
For those of you curious, I'll be back to working on LFM tomorrow.
Currently listening to: "Blue Ridge Way", drivin' n' cryin'
1 Comments:
I've been kicked out of that museum. Something about touching the paintings. Next time you go to Chicago let me know.
Post a Comment
<< Home