Musings 10242024
my mind (and appetite) / it took me to Chicago...
There’s this song that plays during ER’s Retrospective episode that always comes to mind when I travel to Chicago. Within the first verse, The Uglysuit sings, “And where did I begin to drift off to that I think that I can fly / My mind, I took it to Chicago…” and every time I hear this song, I’m always transported to the Lakefront Trail at Grant Park, the sweeping skyline, and bright waters welcoming me back…
And somehow, recently, I’ve managed to visit Chicago twice a year now for the past couple of years. In college I’d go often, my cousin living there and always having a couch to sleep on (and the Southwest roundtrip flight always being less than $100 back in the day), and now, after shooting my episode of 4400 in November of 2021 in Chicago, a dream, I knew I couldn’t resist visiting often once again now that I was back on the east coast.
So sans my normal r.e.p.o.r.t. format, we’re just going to jump right in —
Chicago, I Love You
I keep learning this lesson, but I’m always at a loss how not expansive the CTA is. Used to traipsing around New York, able to catch trains to most parts of the city, this latest trip reaffirmed the lack of reach as I tried to cross a few items off my food quest list via The Bear (Hulu/FX).
DAY ONE —
I landed in Chicago in the late afternoon, somehow booking O’Hare over Midway, and snaked my way south and east to my cousin’s condo in the South Loop for a little over an hour. Oop. After unloading my suitcase and changing out of my travel clothes, my cousin C whisked us to West Loop/Fulton Market (a newly gentrified and industrial area of the city for young folk to work, play, live) to grab dinner at newly established Bar La Rue. The inside was hella cute and well laid out and while we were able to grab a spacious, velvet lined booth, the food was just ok. We both opted for the steak frites and watched the Liberty take on the Lynx on a classily adorned and mounted big screen. The Mets and Dodgers were also playing and the TV was switched to that game, but after asking a member of the staff to switch back, it was smooth sailing. Plus, there were multiple screens placed throughout so there was more than enough sports watching to go around. Spoiled by places like Buvette and Le Monde, Bar La Rue didn’t necessarily scratch the French culinary experience I was looking for. But in the end, I was fed, was able to watch some WNBA, and call it a comfortable night.
DAY TWO —
With C off to her fancy high rise job, I was left to my own devices and decided to cross some items off my The Bear inspired food list. Some may say I’m obsessed with the show but I’m a naturally curious person who needed to kill time before our dinner reservation back in West Loop/Fulton Market and had an itch to expand upon my culinary experiences. Plus, having been to Chicago more times than I can count, the obvious touristy things to do I could wait to repeat.
Normally when I visit C, I usually start my solo adventures by walking the iconic Lakefront Trail. I make my way past Soldier Field, under the ivy laden Solidarity Drive, and emerge just shy of Adler Planetarium, finally walking west with the beautiful lapping water on my right. I curve around The Shedd then walk the path parallel to Dusable Lake Shore Drive. Once I hit Queen’s Landing (directly opposite of Buckingham Memorial Fountain, Love Jones montage anyone?), I exit the park to walk through the North Rose Garden. From here I’ll either enter the loop to catch the train to my intended destination or keep at it to snake through the Lurie Garden, marvel at The Bean (aka Cloud Gate), pop into The Art Institute of Chicago, or really get my steps in and land on Michigan Avenue, weaving north, and crossing over Wacker to take in the iconic Wrigley Building and Tribune Tower. But on this day (ahem) I made it as far as Cloud Gate and Lurie before catching the blue line to my first destination:
Pizza Lobo - 3000 W Fullerton Ave
There’s this now iconic episode of The Bear in season 2 where Ayo Edebiri’s Sydney goes on a tasting tour as she and Carm attempt to refine and hone their own menu. While I used to be a meticulous planner in my youth, I decided to wing it during this trip and blindly decided I’d head over to Pizza Lobo for their New York style slice that looked oh so yummy. I hopped on the train at Monroe and Dearborn and hopped off at California in Logan Square, walking for another ten minutes until I landed on a questionable (to me) stretch of sidewalk that housed Pizza Lobo.
Not sure what I was expecting, but it was fun to see shot for shot where ‘Sydney’ once stood. Arriving with two minutes to spare before open, I was the first one in and was pleasantly surprised to find the outdoor/indoor mix of garage/bar, gravel and fire pit open air space seating. I promptly took a large table near the back, the wall and table both drenched in yellow, and was told to scan the QR code in order to receive service… which, not a huge fan of that. I wanted to ask questions and talk to a waiter, maybe negotiate the possibility of only a half pint of beer given the hour, but alas, I did as I was told and settled for a slice of pepperoni and pint of 'mini unicorn’ from Chicago’s own Pipeworks Brewing Co.
Again, I’ve been in New York for 12 years now, so while Pizza Lobo wasn’t great, it wasn’t bad either. Especially when I have the likes of D.O.P. a stone’s throw away.
Loaf Lounge - 2934 N. Milwaukee Ave
After debating for too long if I wanted a second slice, eventually landing on no, I drank a quarter of my IPA, cashed out via the app (boo), then made my way on foot over to Loaf Lounge to procure a slice of the famous chocolate cake from, you guessed it, The Bear. This wasn’t my first trip to Loaf Lounge, and after catching up with a friend from KC during the walk over, I happily paid $7.50 for the three tiered slice of heaven and hopped onto the underground blue line train, transferring back in the loop to the green line, taking me a little further south than my cousin would like (ha), then hoofed it the rest of the way on foot to C’s condo.
Monteverde - 1020 West Madison Street
The last couple of Chicago visits, C and I have been trying to get a proper reservation at Monteverde. The first time we couldn’t and winged it Hunger Games style, jockeying for position at the first come first serve bar which was a cardiac event inducing adventure in and of itself — but the food was worth it. The second time, our reservations were so late in the evening we were beat upon arrival, sat at a high top booth situation (our short legs were not pleased), and sat next to a family of four, half of which were being entertained by iPads. Not ideal vibes wise.
This time however, I was able to clinch an 830 res via Resy notifications but we showed up an hour early ‘just to see’ if we could get in sooner and lucked out in bar-side Hunger Games, nabbing a cozy corner just for two. While I opted for a simple glass of Napa Valley Cab, C sprung for a refreshing glass of La Rana Verde (gin, parsley, elderflower, pineapple, prosecco). Will definitely be trying next time.
Before we indulged in the main course of the house made, hand cut pappardelle, C and I opted in to try our tastebuds on the hokkaido scallop crudo, some sort of grilled octopus skewer, and a third item that’s escaping me at present. No I cannot look at their menu online as it’s fresh and changes constantly. I even called to ask for the dish names but it sounded hella busy on the other end and I didn’t want to bother. All that being said, the scallop crudo was a refreshing treat (thank you Haeneyo for introducing me to such a delicacy) and I felt bad eating the octopus (while delicious) because of how intelligent they are… says the meat eater who eats beef and pork so I stand by my own hypocrisy thank you.
We couldn’t finish the pasta, so we took it to go along with C’s arancini (the third thing!) and folded ourselves back into an Uber to head home.
DAY THREE —
The next morning my mom was due to arrive but I was itching to cross another item off my list from The Bear. After fixing myself a quick breakfast and downing a cup of coffee, I forwent my scenic lakeshore walk and hopped on a local bus to take me back into the heart of the loop. From there I took the green line out to Ukranian Village where I got off at Damen, tried to hop onto a bus to take me north (it broke down), but managed the rest of the way on foot, under a questionable, deserted, and heavily graffitied bridge, and finally arrived at —
Kasama - 1001 N. Winchester Ave
Spoiler alert. I did not eat here. Apparently I made the rookie mistake of just rolling up. Kasama opens at 9AM, I arrived around 9:45, but the line was blocks long, a rumored two hour wait, and folks who were just leaving said they had lined up earlier than 8AM. Oh my!
Wanting to make it back to the South Loop by early afternoon and having stopped by Pequod’s (another from The Bear) to deliver lunch to the rest of my fam, I waited all of 45 minutes then pivoted to my plan b… (was really looking forward to the filipino breakfast with longanisa sausage, next time!)
Lao Peng You - 2020 W. Chicago Ave
…which was just a short ten minute walk away and opened at 10AM and wait for it… there was no line! Bless my lucky stars. It worried me at first that there was no line, giving the Kasama x The Bear hype, but once I was welcomed into the Chinese noodle and dumpling shop, it quickly filled up. Luckily, two regulars arrived moments after me and gave me their top picks off the menu. Hungry from my wayward journey to Kasama, I opted for 牛肉面 aka the beef noodle soup and 葱油饼 / Cong You Bing which reminded me of a really thick scallion pancake. To round it all off, I chose to partake in an “iced preserved plum” drink of sorts (juice, tea?) which had hawthorn, orange peel, and hibiscus added in. Lao Peng You was by far my favorite off the list but definitely tied with Monteverde.
Pequod’s - 2207 N Clybourn Ave
With my morning taking a little longer than anticipated, I packed up the rest of my noodle soup and bing to go, hopped in a cab, ordered a 10” personal pie from Pequod’s for delivery, and met it upon arrival back at C’s. Oh technology.
Of course when I arrived with the personal pie in tow, C was on a work call and my mom was taking her post flight nap, so I helped myself to a slice and hit play on random episode of Superstore to pass the time. C eventually emerged from her room, ready to dig in, but my mom wouldn’t have her slice until the following day.
However, I have never eaten so much rich food in such a short amount of time and my stomach finally revolted. I’ll spare you the details but promptly took a nap after devouring my sliver of deep dish.
Pequod’s brick and mortar itself is not featured on The Bear, but do yourself a favor and hit play on the episode “Forks,” where the deep dish pie plays a seminal role.
Bar Mar - 120 N Wacker Drive
For proper dinner, C treated my mom and and me to José Andrés’ Bar Mar. It was quite the vibe and experience, I paired an Albariño with some salmon and gave in to some slices of pan de cristal con tomate. C chose a gin and tonic and my mom had a fun, cute salt foam margarita. We topped it all off on the sticky toffee pudding dessert (I had a wee bite, saving myself for that chocolate cake procured earlier in the day), then walked the very short distant to —
Atonement / Lyric Opera House - 20 N Wacker Drive
Never have I ever been to the Lyric. Months ago I was psyched to learn that thee Cathy Marston, one of my favorite choreographers, was staging a production of Ian McEwan’s Atonement for Joffrey Ballet. A huge fan of Cathy, Joffrey, and Joe Wright’s film adaptation of the same name (never read the book), I initially booked this Chicago trip around the likelihood of being able to procure decent tickets.
I was a little nervous that my mom and C wouldn’t like it, but both were pleasantly amazed at the stunning choreography and clever yet minimalist set design. The Lyric itself was architecturally beautiful of course — but back to the ballet, I wondered if a certain maddening twirl performed effortlessly by Jeraldine Mendoza was in fact a nod to Giselle’s iconic ‘mad scene.’ Mendoza was such a treat to watch and reminded me of the athleticism and artistry of ABT’s Cassandra Trenary.
You can read a Pointe Magazine interview with Cathy Marston about Atonement here.
Marcus’ Chocolate Cake
Finally back at C’s, switching into cozy house clothes, and retiring for the evening, I finally unwrapped thee chocolate cake from Loaf Lounge, split it in two, and walked two plates over for my mom and me. C does not like chocolate. Over red wine and chocolate decadence, we closed out the evening with us sprawled across C’s living room just purely enjoying life and its many blessings that brought us together.
DAY FOUR —
Wanting to play things by ear, our familial trio was slow to rise but I was quick to formulate a plan if they were so willing to follow. One of my favorite things to do in Chicago is to go out on the water. Perhaps it’s because I grew up in landlocked Kansas, and far away from any lakes Dallas had to offer, and the wild East and Hudson rivers of my present New York scare me a wee bit (do a love an East River ferry though), but nothing beats one of Chicago’s iconic boat architecture tours.
Wendella - 400 N Michigan Ave
We were in luck as the midday Wendella lake and river tour had yet to be sold out. Moving quickly, I procured three tickets and a few hours later we were descending the steep steps opposite the riverwalk and standing in line to board our boat. And whew, was it crowded. While I don’t do well in crowds, I was glad to snag an end seat on a bench facing the water with C and my mom opting for back support in the white chairs anchored in the center. An older gentleman was overly friendly, trying to squeeze into my claimed spot, but I relented somewhat and he continued to show me photos on his phone and then offered to buy all of us a round of drinks. We declined.
Once we were out on the open water, beneath the unrelenting sun, it was nice to see my mom break out into a grin. She held out her phone, taking snapshots when she could, and I relished in the cool autumn breeze. C took in all the fun facts, double checking that our tour guide was in fact correct and informed on her phone, and we were somehow famished after the 90 minute tour and decided to walk our happy behinds to Sweet Green before returning to C’s. While I also wanted to cleanse my pallet (and stomach) with my go to salad from overpriced SG (still love it though!), I decided to hold on a little longer and refuel with all my leftovers from the previous day.
Stony Island Arts Bank - 6760 S Stony Island Ave
Keeping my fam on a tight schedule, we then headed to the storied section of Chicago known as South Side. Our destination — the Stony Island Arts Bank. I had read on some Chicago based Instagram account that Theaster Gates was ‘exhibiting’ ‘archives’ from the Johnson Publishing Company (Jet, Ebony). A note — I put these words in quotes and use them lightly because what we experienced in said ‘exhibit’ was in a word, um — interesting.
I was excited to come and see the hallowed archives of such iconic publishers given the storied histories they provided into Black American life. But what we got, instead of a more straightforward museum or gallery type visit, was an artist’s interpretation and installation of how procured archives should be shown/experienced. Eh?
For example, upon entry, you’re asked to put on a pair of disposable white gloves to handle the archival photographs placed in short and shallow shelving. None of the photographs had any indication of the time, place, material, subject, photographer, or within what context the piece was published, and there was easily thousands of photos to handle, pull, and admire. I was frustrated and saddened by this. When I asked a kind docent why in fact there was no record of at least the photographer, they shrugged their shoulders and said JCP only really had four photographers on staff… as if that’s an explanation! With only four, you’d think the job would be easier. Plus, why were we handling these clearly reprinted photographs with such delicacy and care? So many questions…
As we moved beyond what I’ll call the ‘archived barely accessible portrait gallery’, we came upon a grand hallway, empty down the middle, the walls filled with minimalist mid century looking furniture pieces (either directly from or inspired by JCPHQ), bound and archived Jets, and choice artist’s work interpreted by the archives. If I sound vague and verbose it’s because I don’t know what exactly ‘this show’ was trying to be. For something calling themselves archives one could not see or even access said ephemera. Again, I asked why all the materials were prettily bound but inaccessible and and all I got was the reminder that this was ‘an artist’s interpretation of handling archives.’ Suddenly, I was irate and really wanted Theaster to reveal himself so I could ask him all the questions. Why have access to all this wealth of Black excellence and not let anyone properly see it?! While everything was uniquely displayed yet also simultaneously hidden, why not just curate and show the public the actual archives?!
Rushed for time, my mom, C, and I made our way to the second floor where a ‘library’ was housed. Again, we were not to touch the hundreds, if not thousands, of books lining the walls but instead were directed to a small pile of Jets and two art books we were allowed to interact with.
Somewhere along the way we ran into a man named Mars, who I’ll just label as a Gates’ proxy, rocking a flat billed Chiefs hat and Flatbush pickup basketball jersey who ‘jokingly’ felt a certain way about all the questions I threw at him. He acknowledged my frustration of the exhibit, that I wasn’t the only one with these concerns, but let me know it was more about the experience and that they (Stony Island? Gates?) didn’t want to tell anyone anything so they could take away what they would from the exhibit itself and on their own.
Either they’re lacking funding or sense but I hope this show evolves to be more informative and accessible over time. But moving on!
Virtue v. Mesler - Hyde Park
After the dizzying, disappointing, but intriguing Stony Island Arts Bank visit, we headed over to Hyde Park of Obama and University of Chicago fame. We had our hearts set on dining at James Beard winning and Black owned Virtue but were quickly checked on arrival that without a reservation there’d be little hope of getting in. Apparently it being a Saturday evening and something called Sweetest Day (news to me despite being from Kansas) they were all booked out. And I’ll say it - Virtue was kind of snobbish about the whole thing which left a sour taste in our mouths. C had them put us on the waiting list, our fourth to the dinner party, T, joined us, and we walked ourselves down to Mesler, a carefully curated restaurant and bar at the base of boutique hotel Sophy.
Again, hitting the roadblock of this Sweetest Day holiday (who else knows about this holiday?!), we put our names down and convalesced on the plump couches next to a fire with a stunning portrait of Obama looking over us. As we caught up with each others’ lives, C received a text that our table was ready. We were quickly whisked away to the larger dining room and right before we ordered drinks C realized the text was from Virtue, not from Mesler. Ha! However, I was outnumbered on what to do and we decided to stay put given how Virtue was on one earlier. Next time though, I’m going to try for a proper res! And hope for better service.
Mesler was a vibe. I ordered the Amish chicken, C and mom had the duck, and T opted in for the burger. Everything was delicious but I couldn’t help but wonder what we were missing back at Virtue…
Sweet Drip - 1658 E 53rd Street
Walking T back to her car and C calling an Uber for the rest of us, we happened by Sweet Drip as they were closing and someone (I missed the initial interaction) ushered us in for free gelato. The owners were sweet as can be, showed us their giant vintage espresso machine imported from Italy, and graciously scooped us out some frozen dessert to go. I chose coffee. I’m not much of a gelato person but it definitely satisfied my post dinner sweet tooth.
DAY FIVE -
We did absolutely nothing this day but pack, hug, and travel our separate ways to Midway and O’Hare. After I zipped my suitcase, said goodbye to my mom, C, and her fabulous condo, I tried not to fall asleep as the Lyft driver regaled me with stories of his Marine Corps days.
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Chicago is one of my favorite cities given its accessibility and access to culture. Can’t wait to plan the next adventure!
Stay safe out there and as always, thank you for reading.
M.