September 16, 2005
Yay, Sample Sales!
Went to an awesome little sample sale yesterday, up at Architectural Artifacts on Ravenswood. Great store if you've never been, and definitely worth the trip if you're into salvage decor. They've got piles of old photographs, architectural renderings, majestic fireplace mantles, beautiful stained glass specimens, and even a pair of condom molds. Odd. I suggested to Dave that we purchase one and use it as a coat rack. He laughed a little, then nudged me toward the next display.
Downstairs from all the salvaged goodies were about twenty retailers of clothing, jewelry, accessories and cosmetics. All girlie stuff. I had lured Dave here because I had thought it was an Architectural Artifacts sale, but as it turned out, the folks who organized the event merely leased out the space. But there was eye candy for Dave too, so I didn't feel too horrible. Most of the girlies in attendance dressed to the nines! Toe cleavage clad in fall tweed winked freely, bias cut skirts hugged non-existant hips, and everyone (myself included, how shameful) had the same layered cut with light fringe. It's odd, really. Dave was one of three men there, and likely the only straight one. Kind of makes you wonder why these women got dressed up? I'm sure I must've gotten a lot of looks, me in my khaki capris and olive 'n' orange sneaks. (Hey, at least I had Trixie hair.) But whatever. As dad taught me long ago, if they judge you by your appearance, you probably don't want to work with them anyway. We each had a glass of wine, I purchased an awesome little Hugo Boss shirt, a chocolate brown long-sleeved deal, for $20, and that was that.
Sandra sent me an invitation to another one next week. Think I'll give it another go. And maybe this time, I'll dress the frou frou bunny part as well. ;)
Posted by carolyn at 02:52 PM | Comments (0)
August 17, 2005
Chicago's South Loop
Helped Manish and Neha move from their South State Street condo to a beautiful apartment. It's amazing how much the South Loop has changed. There's a cute cluster of restaurants on Wabash and State. Gioco's, Zapatista's, Subway... The brand new Target concept store on Roosevelt and Clark, and reportedly a shopping mall anchored down by Whole Foods! Property values out there seem to be rising superfast. Though, it would seem if Whole Foods, a high-end organic type grocery store, concluded from their financial analysis that it would be profitable to plunk down a South Loop store, then the neighborhood must have some extra juice left to squeeze. I think the initial appeal of the South Loop was under-priced, under-developed land. The area has similar benefits to the north side: stops on the red line, close to Lake Michigan, cute little restaurants. It also has a couple features the north sides doesn't have: easy access to the expressway, a Target, and the benefits of new construction.
Actually, maybe the reason for the price differential between my Edgewater condo and a South Loop investment is that I would have to put about $25k of upgrades into my condo to make it comparable to new construction. Ah, yes, that makes sense.
Either way, wish I could get in on the action. Besides Manish and Neha, I know two other people who have bought in the area, and both of them are expecting some healthy appreciation.
Meet one of my favorite south side bloggers: Blagica: blah-GEET-sa
Posted by carolyn at 08:35 AM | Comments (0)
August 15, 2005
Ciao, Orbitz...
Today marks my last two weeks at Orbitz, it's a nice and easy feeling as I coast to a gentle stop. Everything is on track to be closed or transferred, so not too much guilt over leaving. I'm off to become the fifth employee of an absolutely fantastic e-commere company that's more aligned with my personal beliefs and values. The core compentency of Shareasale is affiliate marketing as opposed to selling travel. Anyway, I barely wanted to get out of bed today. Would really like to use up my sick days, but probably better that I'm in the office for these last few days.
The decision process was a bit gruelling. For two years, I knew this is what I wanted to do. But standing at the edge of the cliff, with the very opportunity I wanted dangling in front of me, I was scared to leap. I'm leaving a stable job, stable salary, huge conglomerate, and taking a chance on my own ablities. If I fail, the repercussions could be enormous. If I succeed, I will be so proud to have accomplished something that would have an actual impact on a company, and potentially on the industry.
Anyway, Michelle and I celebrated my last two weeks by meeting at Poag Mahone's for hamburgers and gossip. Mahone's was apparently ranked by GQ as having one of the best burgers in the nation. I still think Moody's is far better.
Posted by carolyn at 08:29 PM | Comments (1)
August 11, 2005
Lunch at the Art Institute
Joined a colleague for lunch at the Art Institute today. We were originally planning to see the Toulouse Lautrec exhibit, but that was nixed when we saw we'd only have a half hour to enjoy it. So we opted for the impressionist wing instead. Monet, Manet, Renoir and such. It was such a nice break from the office, letting the eyes rest on brush strokes and colors rather than on spreadsheets and contracts. It's so strange how each piece can evoke a different emotion -- indifference, curiousity, pride, compassion...a cultured excuse for mood swings. I'll have to start going once a month. Altaf had some interesting observations. He grew up in Pakistan, and so when he tried to identify or relate to a particular painting, he would look at the year and compare the overall subject matter or individual details to the corresponding time period in Pakistan. So for example, we stood in front of a painting depicting Rome's Santa Maria church set in Parisian streets. I can't remember the title or the artist, but it was social commentary on the French pulling away from Roman Catholicism. Altaf looked at the piece for a few minutes, then noted a cotton stuffed mattress piled in the heaped wagon of a middle-class family. He explained that in Pakistan, there is a huge distinction between upper and lower classes, and that most Pakistanis during the time the painting was done, would be sleeping on mattresses woven out of straw or some other fiber. In front of another domestic kitchen painting, Altaf observed the woman wearing an apron. It was amusing to hear him wonder why the Eastern culinary culture rarely called for an apron.
Posted by carolyn at 03:14 PM | Comments (0)
August 10, 2005
Ben Folds Ravinia
Took in my first Ravinia concert of the season last night, Rufus Wainwright and Ben Folds. Awesome lineup, and definitely evidenced by the complete and absolute clusterfump of Abercrombie clad bodies. As I got off Metra and headed toward Dave, two Ravinia employees pushed past me and walked authoritatively toward a kerchiefed J. Crew kind of girl. She was hunched over on a bench, a string of spittle dangling from her lips, pointing at a pink puddle of puke just left of her flip-flop. I was embarrassed just seeing her. This was not representative of the evening I had in mind. To me, Ravinia is a quiet, pensive evening of wine, cheese, and olives. Good music. A fading sky and candlelight. Guess I'm old. The Ravinia I met last night was younger. Spilled beer bottles, dancing on picnic blankets, and not a candelabra or centerpiece in sight. It was acceptable to talk and laugh during the concert. There were no buttoned-up men in suit jackets walking around with a poster lettered with "Quiet Please." Instead of subdued luxury, there was youthful energy. We walked a bit over to the pavilion, two thirtysomething couples caught somewhere between young-and-uninhibited and old-and-reserved. It's a fine place to be, as long as you're not grasping for one end or the other. At the pavilion, people stood three or four deep, trying to get a glimpse of the performance. Dave had the only vantage point, and described the scene to the rest of us. "There's a guy down there and he has a guitar." Okay. Then on to the ice cream parlor, where a bottle of Ecco Domani went for $30. The price didn't surprise me, after all, Ravinia held a captive audience of drinkers. There's no where else to go if you run out of wine or beer. However, it would make more sense to stock a label that no one knew, thus avoiding criticism and likely increasing conversion. You would have to be extraordinarily desperate to pay $30 for a bottle of Ecco. I was only moderately desperate, so I ponied up $7.50 for a glass. All in all, it was an enjoyable evening. Different, but nice.
Posted by carolyn at 09:32 AM | Comments (0)
June 29, 2005
Taste of Chicago 2005: An Economic Perspective
Battled the crowds at one of Chicago's greatest foodie events, Taste. It's an annual celebration held in Grant Park featuring about 40 Chicago restaurants. Temporary stands and kiosks get set up with grills, fridges and chefs, and thousands of people snap up ticket strips, 11 for $7. Note, that is 63 cents per ticket! Each restaurant offers three or four speciality items. For example, a Jamaican restaurant offered curry goat, oxtail soup and plaintains. Each one of those specialty items goes for about 8 tickets on average. So it all works out to about $5 an entree. However, there is also the smaller "Taste Portion" option for about 3 tickets, or $1.90. Considering the size of the entree and the taste portion, it gets pretty expensive. Roast corn generally runs 4 tickets. That's $2.52 for an ear of corn.
As you can see, it's brilliant economics in play. By forcing the consumer to purchase tickets, Taste gets the consumer to dissociate the tickets from their actual monetary value. As such, the consumer is less likely to "bargain shop" as the perceived difference between 3 and 4 tickets is very low. However, the actual difference is $0.63! Additionally, the consumer is forced to purchase tickets in strips of 11. Eleven is an odd number, you usually end up with enough tickets for one item, and a few leftover tickets. In order not to waste the leftover tickets, you buy another strip. So instead of spending $7 on a meal, the consumer is encouraged to double that spend. $14 on one meal!
However, the whole model falls to bits the last hour of the festival. There is rampant deflation and the ticket strengthens. A taste portion of Italian ice during this last hour is close to quart size. An 8-ticket entree of bbq ribs could be the whole side of a cow. Food vendors are calling out offers as fast as frantic traders in the pork belly pit of the Chicago Merc. "Two for one! Two for one!" "One ticket gets you anything!" "Anything for three tickets!" However, none of those vendors are giving out free food. No matter what, there is a transaction. Ticket for food. Additionally, the vendor wants to get rid of all that food to avoid transport, storage and/or waste. However, the ticket still has value. When the vendor redeems their horde of tickets with the event organizers, it can be assumed that they get the face value of the ticket, which is $0.50. Presumably, the event organizers reap the difference between what they charge consumers for the tickets and what they redeem the tickets for in the end. So in that last hour, consumers and event organizers profit the most, but vendors are able to limit their losses. It's an interesting market forces free-for-all, definitely. But it only happens in that magical last hour of Taste.
Extrapolate that model, and it could illustrate what would happen to the markets if Armageddon were to hit. A re-valuation of everything, from goods to currency, occurs in the last stage of a terminal economy.
Posted by carolyn at 08:54 AM | Comments (4)
June 21, 2005
Blue Cab Taxi Company
En route to New York this fine morning. It's been a traveler's dream so far, when I stepped out of Dave's Oak Park home, a clean suburban taxi was waiting outside, trunk popped and passenger side door open. You sure don't see that in the city. The cab driver, Dwight, was also a unique. He waxed glorious on the Blue Cab company, on how well the mother-son business took care of its fleet and encouraged its drivers to try new ideas. For example, Dwight wanted magnetized Blue Cab logos that could be removed at will. Blue Cab said fine. Dwight wanted to try his hand at adding a luxury car service, Blue Cab said fine. Unfortunately, the car crapped out at 300,000 miles and had to be let go, but Dwight's going to give it another try in about a year or two. He explained how he used to drive his own car, and Blue Cab would get about $200 a week from him. Now he drives one of their cars, gives them $450 a week, but they take care of maintenance and insurance. "Worth it, not having to worry about all that," he explains. Ah, my flight's about to board. American 382, tail number N96265. They just called the Executive Platinum Members, I'm always so tempted to turn that trick, but the benefit of boarding before anyone else still eludes me.
Posted by carolyn at 09:27 PM | Comments (1)
May 29, 2005
The Pope Room
Joined some friends of mine for an Italian feast complete with multiple liters of cheap chianti last night at Buca di Beppo's. I'm not a big fan of the food, but the kitsch is to die for! We had just the right number of people to get seated in the Pope Room underneath a ceiling fresco of pre-pubescent cherubs. Oddly, it looked as though they were flying around with erections. Makes sense, perhaps the gentle breeze emitted by their wings would cause some kind of stimulation. Either way, I felt fortunate not to be seated under one. In the middle of the table, under a clear plastic box bolted to the lazy susan, was a painted wooden bust of John Paul. He functioned well as a conversational centerpiece, but made it difficult to speak to fellow diners across the table. You had to lean either to the right or left of the Pope, and it just seemed impolite. The walls were also covered with Vatican paraphernalia. A cheap, touristy tapestry of Vatican City, a couple Pope plates, the obligatory collectible spoon, and a mish-mash of other photos and postcards related to our long line of Catholic leaders. It's an experience, but definitely not somewhere you'd want to go on, say, a first date. All that Catholic pressure, and excitable cherubs, talk about mixed signals.
Posted by carolyn at 02:45 PM | Comments (0)
May 16, 2005
Panna Cotta Paradise
Last night I dined at Osteria via Stato. Incredible! Chefs Rick Tramonto (Tru) and David Di Gregorio (Maggiano's) are gourmet geniuses. The concept is a three-course prix fixe menu, but really, it's more of a feast. As soon as you sit down, waiters appear on all sides offering gravlax, antipasto, crusty bread, caramelized rosemary onions, a napa cabbage garbanzo salad that was perfect on the palate, olives, oh my! All you had to do was blink, and the waiters came back to refill the plates. An entire buffet of nummies. Following the "appetizer," in true Italian fashion, was the first course. Two pastas, one was an artichoke orichette (as light as the alliteration), the other a ragu with flat noodles. Then, the second course.
*blissful sigh*
I had a melt-in-your-mouth braised short rib (boneless) nestled on a bed of parsnip mash. More sides appeared from nowhere...locally grown asparagus and roasted potatoes. I had to force myself to stop eating halfway in order to preserve some of my abdomial space for dessert. The way the food was coming out, I knew I had to sample from the dessert menu. I had a strawberry panna cotta, which sounds so simple, but was simply divine. I always think that "divine" is an overused adjective when describing dessert, but this truly deserved the title. The panna cotta was so light and smooth, and caught the sweet strawberries just so, every bite was paradise. If I could've, I would've ordered another one. But alas, the boundaries of my tummy failed me. The wine list was extensive, which bumped the restaurant to the top of my list, however, the prices were also surprisingly in reach for a Chicago restaurant. I had a Monica di Sardegna, which had a heavy nose, but went down light and smooth. Will have to learn more about the varietal. For $7, I was expecting a mediocre glass of wine, instead I get a beautiful decanter of ruby red that must've refilled my glass three times. Total bill, drinks, dinner and dessert (the "D" trinity), including tip, was $130. That, my friend, is money and a day well-spent.
Posted by carolyn at 10:55 PM | Comments (3)
May 15, 2005
Wicked Good
I love it when Charlie's in the doghouse, because that means I get tapped for escort duty with Susse. Huzzah! As such, I was her date to the Tony award winning musical, Wicked, at the beautifully ornate Chicago theater. But wait! There's more! Our seats were in the fourth row, center stage. Wicked awesome! The musical is supposed to be a pre-quel for the Wizerd of Oz, and relates the story of a very ditzy yet lovable Glinda the Good and the wry and remarkably talented Wicked Witch of the West. Think my favorite line was, "You travel in a bubble." Stephanie J. Block had the title role of Elphaba (she's not really wicked, just misunderstood), a.k.a. the Wicked Witch of the West, and Kendra Kassebaum starred as Glinda. Their voices blended perfectly together, each giving way to highlight the strength of the other. It was just remarkable. Who would've thought I'd get teary-eyed at a musical?!?
But the songs were so moving and the lyrics so clean, it was impossible not to. "Defying Gravity" was orchestral pop, as driving and motivational as a Disney song, but not nearly as sappy. While that one's become a radio hit, "As Long As Your Mine" was my personal favorite. A romantic duet between Elphaba and Fiyero, a rogue after my own heart, I was so surprised at how much it caught my heart and drew me into their story.
And the costumes! Whimsical and imaginative, each costume was unique in its own way, but tied together by a common color or pattern, so the entire cast was cohesive. With the exception of Glinda, who was always in something sparkly and frilly, befitting of the character; and Elphaba, who wore black of course. "It's the new pink!" The set was also stunning. Every single bit of space was fully utilized with action or intricate structure.
Highly recommended. Both thumbs up and my big toes too!
Posted by carolyn at 08:25 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack
May 12, 2005
Four Cats Walk Into a Bar...
At around 3p today, I was hit by simultaneous phone calls and IM windows. Sure, an office phone with three lines looks cool, but heck, not when all three lights are lit up. Ah, and then the cell phone rings. When my cell phone rings, the voice on the other end of the line will ask if I want to go eat dinner, catch a movie, or maybe do some shoe shopping. If my office phone rings, the voice on the other end of the line will call my attention to a problem, an issue or a need. I answer my cell phone first.
It's Mark, one of my trendy gay friends -- great clothes, great car, great style -- kitty supreme! He has passes to a swanky nightclub party sponsored by Maxim magazine. God forbid he show up without arm candy. Thus, Val, Sandra and I all get added to the guest list. "Look classy," he says. Then the dial tone. The lights on my office phone are still blinking.
The party is at Moda, a Hubbard street bar. The last time I went there was with Manish and two Greek men. One who didn't speak at all and one who spoke to all the ladies. This time, I was with two other chicks and a gay guy (we fought over who was Carrie from Sex in the City, Mark won). Soon as we step off the worn red carpet (looked like a Home Depot discard), we run smack into a very packed bar. Three skanky but covered dancers are gyrating on elevated platforms. Their expressions are forced, but they keep chugging along. There are probably six men to every woman (strange odds for Chicago), but only one in six men were worth a second look. With the exception of the sole male dancer, who was definitely worth many looks. Yum.
We venture down to the VIP room. The difference between the main floor and the VIP room is that the VIP room has food. And a Brittey Spears wanna be wearing layered tops with the collar cut out, a flared mini-skirt, wavy bleached blonde hair with too much hairspray, and oh, the final touch. Leg warmers over pointy toed stilettos. Pointy toed stilettos that were dancing their heart out on an illuminated platform sized for a solo dancer. Now, if you are scantily clad and dancing on a platform, and yet the men are all at the bar or taking off for the bathroom, that is a good indication that you should stop dancing and step away from the platform.
It was a fun night though, definitely. Brought out miss kitty in me, eh? Meowrrrr!
Posted by carolyn at 10:40 PM | Comments (1)
May 11, 2005
Did I say Chicago? I meant a cruise ship...
What I said yesterday about the Chicago summer making up for a loooong winter...nix that. Woke up this morning to the sound of thunder and lightning right overhead, and a very chilly wind blowing in off the lake. We're right back to the beginning of winter, but whoops, it's May.
In the only fantasy I can summon given the circumstances: It's not a massive storm front, but rather spray coming off the ocean as I lay snuggled in a king size bed in my balcony suite on a cruise ship in the Caribbean. Then again, I have been on a cruise once, for business. Not so much. 24/7 I had to be "on." It was business/social networking all around the clock, and there was absolutely no escape. My room was positively tiny, with a twin size bed. The even tinier shower stall had enough room to step in, turn around, and step out. Instead of little bottles of frou-frou shampoo, conditioner and lotion, we got product samples from various manufacturers. If I have to rip open an envelope of shampoo with my teeth, I am not a happy camper. I ended up spending more time in the one and only redeeming spot on the entire ship. The gym, which was glorious with its hot tub underneath a skylight, and the stationary bikes angled so that it felt as though you were biking right into the ocean. Even the gym showers were nice, beautifully slate tiled with rain showerheads and the minty smell of eucalyptus. When the ship docked at its one port, Nova Scotia, everything was gray and flavorless. I couldn't even tell if I had left the States. Everything was so bland, we could've been dropped on Staten Island. Alas, we disembarked, walked down a sidewalk that curved not out of necessity or decor, but rather out of habit, and spent three hours in a Canadian Irish pub. The quaintest bit of the whole onboard experience were the face cloth frogs left on our beds instead of mints. I suppose I would give the whole cruise deal another shot, but only with a bunch of friends and nothing in my briefcase but a passport, a bikini and a bottle of tanning oil.
Posted by carolyn at 10:33 PM | Comments (0)
May 10, 2005
Wrigley Field: Cubbies, Jumbo Dogs and a Transsexual
It is a perfect day to catch a Cubs game at Wrigley Field, 80 degrees and not a cloud in the sky. Spring skipped over us here in Chicago (we had hail a couple weeks ago), but it looks like summer will make up for that. It is a complete Wrigley experience. Baseball jersey clad men clamboring over rows of green plastic seats to corner the beer hawker (Old Style forties, of course), the gorgeous nostril-filling scent of a ballpark dog, and one 400-pound man in perhaps the largest Chicago Cubs t-shirt I have ever seen..and it's still too small! One row up and four seats to the left is your token transsexual with an 80s perm and bad roots. She sits with her daughter, a splitting, albeit more feminine, offshoot. We are all watching the Cubbies take the Mets to town. After yesterday's series of rain delays, the Cubbies are primed for play. Patterson nails two out of four home runs; and Maddux plays hard to get. He doesn't give up home base once, even in a bases-loaded seventh inning. Game score: 7-0. We may never get the World Series, but we'll always have Wrigley.
* Michelle is insisting that I also note the following: Polish sausages at Wrigley are $1.75 more than your standard dog, and $1.25 more than a jumbo dog. Also, if you want the condiments, you gotta ask for the condiments. Wrigley ain't no restaurant.
Posted by carolyn at 11:43 PM | Comments (0)
May 06, 2005
The Green Mill
When you first step into the Green Mill, you see the bouncer perched on a bar stool, with a wad of bills in his hand and a no-nonsense attitude. It kind of feels as though you're stepping into some college bar as opposed Chicago's greatest speakeasy-turned-jazz-club. But as soon as you ante up the cover and slide past the bouncer, you're in. Immediately, your eyes and ears are drawn past the bar, past the martinis, past the velvet booths, past the swing dancers, right to the live brass section. Three trumpets blaring, their bright tone cutting through the cigar smoke and the martini haze. You can see sweat bead up on the musicians' temples. They're not playing for the crowd, they're playing with the crowd. And oh my, I thought scat was a lost artform. Not at the Green Mill. The six-foot tall crooner was gifted. Each nonsense syllable was so distinct and melodic that I wondered if he had somehow gotten lost in time. Taken the wrong turn somewhere and ended up in today's tech age as opposed to jazz's golden era. Man, I can't wait to go back.
Posted by carolyn at 08:17 AM | Comments (0)
May 05, 2005
What am I, chopped liver?
I love living in Edgewater. Got home last night, laced up the sneaks and hit the lakefront path for a twilight run. Did about 2.5 to 3 miles yesterday, but need to be at four miles by the end of the month in order to complete the Chase Corporate Challenge without humiliating myself in front of my colleagues. Got back home, flopped on the couch for five minutes, then off to Carson's to nab a pint of the best chopped liver in the world (Manny's is second) for mom. Flying to San Diego this afternoon to surprise her...can you imagine? Me and chopped liver, mom will be so happy. This will be the second trip I make this month towing food from Chicago.
Posted by carolyn at 07:51 AM | Comments (1)
May 04, 2005
Zip Zip Zip!
Took John to Midway Airport this morning. It's amazing how much it's changed! A ton of ramps splitting off one way and the other, very fun to drive. Of course, speeding around a bend was partially justified because it was 7:13am, and his American Airlines flight was at 7:42am. (He made it with one minute to spare!) I don't otherwise recommend testing centrifugal force on a one-lane ramp, no matter how much fun it is in a zippy Hyundai Tiburon FX. Driving back into the city, 55 was a complete and utter parking lot. The sun rising over the lake in the east blinds Chicago drivers. Their eyes are so used to the gray of winter, it's like blind mice navigating when spring finally hits. I opted to take Archer all the way in, which was brilliance, if I may say so myself.
Posted by carolyn at 09:31 AM | Comments (0)
May 03, 2005
Laddie the Kite Artist
Spent a few hours last night at Huttenbar in Lincoln Square. Never realized there was a Monday night scene anywhere off-season. But it was nice, just a comfortable bunch of locals enjoying German brew. Met another of John's friends (he seems to have an extensive collection of unique characters), Laddie the kite-artist-slash-graphic-designer-slash-public-radio-personality. He wore his long hair caught up in a disheveled pony tail underneath a well-worn red baseball cap and accessorized with a soft pack of Salems. There was a gin and tonic in one hand and a copy of Wired in the other. You would think it's tough to strike a balance between edgy artist and Scottish imp, but Laddie nailed it.
So when you hear a guy is a kite artist, there is just a natural flurry of questions that come to mind. Laddie related how when he was young, his grandfather showed him how to take a couple sticks and a newspaper and make a kite. "It was an incredible realization! Actually making something instead of buying it," Laddie said. Plus, it was a combination of science and beauty. Nowadays, his kites hang on the walls of the wealthy, and he doesn't like to add the rigging to it, but he will add it if the buyer decides they want a functional piece of art. "When someone buys one of my kites, it's no longer my kite. They can do with it what they want," he said. In a sense that's true, but then no one has asked him to add the rigging. I think it would be like adding a dab of ochre oil paint to a Monet. It would seem to devalue the intended expression of the artist and the spirit of the piece. At the same time, Laddie assures us that all his kites are capable of flying, he just chooses not to leash them.
Posted by carolyn at 08:59 AM | Comments (0)
May 02, 2005
Sunday Mornings
I love Sunday mornings. Usually, all the errands are run, the house is clean and there is a full day in front of me before having to get back in the grind. Yesterday, joined a couple friends for soup dumplings (xiao long bao) and dim sum in Chinatown. Sampled salted soy milk (shen dou jiang) with fried dough (you tiao), and the house specialty, scallion pancakes (chong you bing). I was stuffed to the brim! After brunch, we headed over to a cafe in Wicker Park. Filter. It's your total hip, eclectic crowd...punk rockers, artists, students...and great coffee. The mismatched 60s furniture works well with the exposed brick, and the bathroom walls are covered in chalkboard paint and overlapping pseudo-temporary sentiments. We sat on a couch by the window and divided our attention between people watching and a left-behind crossword puzzle. I got through a few more pages of Chomsky (insightful, yes; objective, not so much) and whipped through a rough draft of a speech I'll give later this month at my alma mater. Last stop in this leisurely day was an urban tribe grill out to welcome Michelle into her new home. In true form, instead of bringing to food to the grill, John brought the grill to the food, wheeling the Weber at least a hundred yards away from the community area to Michelle's front door. The grilled vegetables came out perfect, the store-bought couscous and feta salad was delish, the chicken still juicy, and the strawberries fresh. It was a wonderful day, and further emphasizes the importance of having a good workout routine.
Posted by carolyn at 10:38 AM | Comments (0)
April 22, 2005
Stuck at the Gate
I'm looking out the window of a McDonnell Douglas S80. Poor thing has seen some better days. The springs of 15F are a bit saggy and the seat pocket in front of me juts out at a crooked angle, catching on my bag and exposing a galaxy of forgotten peanut crumbs. Another American S80, tail number N963TW occupies the slot next to us, surrounded by luggage cars, Gategourmet and the lavatory waste truck. The bustle of activity over there is in stark contrast to the lack of activity at ORD gate H14. My flight out to San Francisco has been delayed for 45 minutes due to "weather conditions as reported by Chicago and Dallas." There are a some young families on board. One mother bravely travels solo with her rambunctious toddler. She speaks to him half in Spanish and half in English, explaining to the couple next to her that children can learn anything. Tabula rasa and such. Bet you anything she'll be unpacking her luggage in Berkeley. Another little blonde boy, just 18 months old, bounces happily on a chair three rows up, giggling while he pushes the Fisher-Price-esque yellow light buttons and that one enticing, orange flight attendant call button. The pilot walks from the cockpit to the rear, what is it about airplanes that always makes men's shoulders broader and their stance taller? Yum.
Posted by carolyn at 01:34 AM | Comments (1)
April 21, 2005
An Evening at Home
Even the Travel Rogue needs to take a break from life every now and then. A quick run to the gym on a stolen lunch hour cleared this evening for a quiet night in. After a brief sidetrip to pick up an order of Chili Mac that I will transport with me to San Francisco this weekend (half turkey, half texas, don't forget the tabasco) so that I have currency to barter for lodging, I make it home by 7:30pm. It's early for me, and yields enough time to watch the sky fade from pink to inky black. I uncork an acceptable, if not challenging, bottle of 2003 Shale Ridge cabernet and successfully pipe Rhapsody to my moody wireless speakers. "So are you wired, or unwired?" my father is fond of asking. After deciding what corporate-wear to bring with me to San Francisco, I curl up on the couch with "Kavalier and Clay". The dishes are clean, the candles are lit. I am ready to seduce myself with wine and a good book. Chabon did a nice job. "Kavalier and Clay" is a comforting read, one that makes you refer again and again to the pithe promotional copy on the back cover. But for once, there is a book review comment that is so adequate it's humorous. "Chabon is a reader's writer; with sentences so cozy they'll wrap you up and kiss you goodnight," quoth the Chicago Tribune. It's a man's guilty read, all about comic books and war, but really, I don't want to stereotype. I just want to turn the pages. I am grasping at a love story somewhere in the plot, but it's so vague and just out-of-reach that I'm oddly satisfied by the game and not the outcome.
p.s. Crap. Only three entries and so far we have a review of Chicago hot dogs, McDonald's, chili and cheap (but acceptable) wine. My palate is clearly not coming across. Note to self: must remedy.
p.p.s. Perhaps I'm pre-menstrual?
Posted by carolyn at 10:26 PM | Comments (0)
A McDonald's with European Flair
Met up with the vagabond urban tribe yesterday, for a hump day excursion to the new Rock 'n' Roll McDonalds on Clark Street in Chicago. What a venue! The graceful, yet massive golden arches dwarfed the Hard Rock guitar signage just east. It is a Mickey D's with European flair. Mosaic granite floors, flat screen video monitors, contemporary bathroom with the ever-trendy vessel sinks and matte stainless steel fixtures...and then on the second floor (accessible via an escalator), little niches where you can suck your french fries while lounging on a black leather Mies van der Rohe chair. Also on the second floor is the McCafe...where you can top off your meal with a latte, cappuccino, cookie, baklava, or scoop of gelato. Yes, McGelato. Who would've thunk? It is very much like the European McDonald's establishments that I've seen, where the emphasis is not on get-in/get-out service, but on the experience of having a meal. It's an odd experience. Especially when you look in the parking lot and see Range Rovers, BMWs and Infinitis. At the McDonald's in my neighborhood, you generally see decade old Caddies with torn upholstery.
Posted by carolyn at 09:26 AM | Comments (1)
April 20, 2005
Chicago: A Haven for Foodies
My kind of town...Chicago is! There is a warmth to this town that fits every yin of my yang. I'm an utter foodie, and Chicago is an absolute paradise for me. Where else can you find a speakeasy converted into a stellar Italian restaurant? It was also in Chicago that I had my first taste of foie gras. I remember the date in fact, Valentines Day 1997. I don't remember who I was with, but I remember that the foie gras was perfectly seared, presented on a simple bed of fricasse, and lightly brushed with a delicate glaze. Oh goodness. Of course, true foodies also swing the other way. Chicago hot dogs are another passion of mine. What other city serves their dogs in poppy seed buns with flourescent green relish, a pickle wedge, tomato slices and celery salt? Chicagoans are smart. They add nutrition to their junk food. Ah, and of course, Garrett's popcorn. I don't have a demanding sweet tooth, but I am irresistably drawn toward Garrett's popcorn. It is entirely worth the half-hour line that often forms on the weekends. If you are ever in Chicago, you absolutely must try the caramel/cheese mix. Ah yes...there's more, much more to come.
Posted by carolyn at 05:38 PM | Comments (0)