Chicago was a vacation
from the vacation. In every other city
we spent a night or two; in the Windy City we had three full days and nights. Waking up and going to sleep in the same
place, being unable to briefly unpack, not starting each morning with a several
hour drive—these small accommodations felt luxurious. In every other city we drove; in Chicago, we
left the car at the hotel and used the L and buses. In every other city we had a baseball game
each day; in Chicago, we had our only “off day” of the trip. But the biggest difference was that in
Chicago we had a visitor. On Wednesday
morning, Justin and I picked up my girlfriend Shima at the O’Hare Airport.
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| Shima is the one on the right |
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| Shima at the Bean |
Of course, some things
remained constant. Our first stop was
food. Anthony Bourdain says there are 13
American restaurants you need to try before you die. Most are fancy places in New York and
California. One of them is Oklahoma
Joe’s, the barbecue joint we visited in Kansas City. And one of them is Hot Doug’s, a
kitschy-looking place in the Avondale neighborhood. As the
name suggests, they serve hot dogs—everything from the standard Chicago Dog
(frankfurter with onions, relish, tomatoes, pickle) to sausages (Polish,
Italian, brat) to the exotic (ribeye steak or duck). We got a variety … and some chili cheese
fries for good measure.
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| We took photos while we waited for our 7 dogs and 2 orders of fries. |
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| Chili Cheese Fries |
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| Left to right: Polish, Italian, Chicago |
We rounded out our lunch
with the only food group left: gelato.
When Shima and I went to Chicago in January, we sought out Black Dog for
its famous goat cheese cashew caramel gelato (Shima loves goat cheese). When we arrived, they were all out. So this time, we got there early. We shared three flavors: the highly anticipated goat cheese, peppery Mexican hot
chocolate, and refreshing strawberry basil.
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| Justin's Note: Ari calls these his "prop glasses" because they do not have correct lenses. They are merely a prop. Like the Holiday In Express, they don't make him smarter, but they make him feel smarter. [Ari's Note: I think they make me smarter.] |
With a few hours to kill
before the game, we checked out Navy Pier.
[Justin’s Note: Navy Pier is overrated.
You can pay for boat cruises, ride a Ferris Wheel, and eat at tourist
traps like Bubba Gump. There are churros. Any place that has churros is competing with
top notch amusement parks. That’s a
level of competition Navy Pier just can’t match.]
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| There is a Dippin' Dots. Nowhere did it describe itself as the "Ice Cream of the Future." Does this mean the future is finally here? Is Dippin' Dots now the Ice Cream of the Present? We live in exciting times. |
After being underwhelmed
by Navy Pier, we took the bus and train to our fifth stadium of the trip. US Cellular Field—known by locals as
Comiskey—is the home of the Chicago White Sox.
The concourse is great. It’s
lined with concession stand after concession stand, all serving up unhealthy
Chicago cuisine. There was a buzz inside
the park. The field itself is pretty but
forgettable. Kansas City has fountains;
St. Louis has the Arch in the skyline; Milwaukee has slides and a great
scoreboard. There was nothing wrong with
the “Cell,” but there was nothing that stood out either. Our favorite park perk was the Bullpen Bar
just behind the right field wall. Fans
can order snacks and drinks while watching the game inches from the field,
essentially looking through the wall. We
had an overhead view of the Bullpen Bar.
It looked like a party was going on down there.
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| Muscle flexing beside the statute of retired Sox slugger Frank Thomas, nicknamed the "Big Hurt" |
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| Not all mascots are adorable. |
We sat in the first row of
the bleachers. Not only did this provide
a great vantage, it was also prime souvenir territory. Outfielders will occasionally toss a ball
into the stands when they’re done with pre-inning warm-ups. Our best bet was Shima. We encouraged her to smile at White Sox
center fielder DeWayne Wise, patrolling right in front of us. She called out, “Dwaaaayne!” We told her that his name isn’t Dwayne. It’s DeWayne.
Two syllables. She couldn’t get
it right. “Dwaaayne!” We didn’t get a souvenir.
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| Our view from the bleachers |
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| DeWayne. Duh-wane. DeWayne. |
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| Justin's Note: I don't understand this advertisement. When am I supposed to tune in for Tom Skilling's weather report on WGN? 11 AM? Noon? 1? "Midday" is not a time. |
Our post-game snack was La
Pasadita, a Mexican restaurant. We all
shared “chachos,” which are dangerously dense nachos. Shima and I shared a carne asada burrito and
chicken taco. Justin got mixed fajitas
and a steak taco.
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| Chachos |
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| Burrito |
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| Chicken taco |
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| Justin's fajita plate |
Shima and I decided to take advantage of our Off Day and played tourist. We trained into the city, visited Shima's favorite cheese and sandwich shop, picked up some iced coffees, and strolled the iconic Magnificent Mile. Our first stop was The Bean, in Millennium Park. Shaped like what you might imagine, The Bean is a huge metallic sculpture whose surface reflects and distorts much of the city's beautiful skyline. After taking roughly 45 minutes of pictures we bought a bag of Garrett's Gourmet Popcorn and headed towards the Hancock Building. Ninety-five floors later, Shima and I overlooked the city center. The Signature Lounge doubles as a restaurant and bar and is home to some of the most breathtaking views of Chicago. But it's apparently a little too swanky for our kind. Shortly after finding a table located against the window a server came over to take our drink order. "Do you guys have a happy hour?" I inquired. "Um, excuse me?" she responded, seeming annoyed. "Do you currently have any drink specials?" I attempted again. She gave a fake half smile and informed me they in fact did not. I contemplated blowing her mind and informing her I was Abe Froman, Sausage King of Chicago. Instead I ordered an overpriced Blue Moon.
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| The best goat cheese-filled roasted red pepper either side of the Mississippi |
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| Ab workout of the day |
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| Jumping Jacks workout of the day |
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| At least the view was free... |
We met Justin for dinner at Smoque Barbecue. Justin and I wanted
to share a small salad with dressing on the side, but Shima insisted we order
half the menu: baby back ribs, spareribs, pulled pork, brisket, sausage link, macaroni and
cheese, cornbread, baked beans, brisket chili, coleslaw and French fries. We unanimously agreed that the brisket was
the best entrée and the macaroni and cheese was the best side. [Justin’s Note:
I’ll take it a step further. Though the
ribs and most side were disappointing, the brisket was the best I’ve ever
had. I say this as someone whose
greatest joys include serving as a judge in an official barbecue
competition. The Smoque brisket was so
tender it fell off the fork.] Our table:
There's a lot going on here. Let's zoom in on the brisket:
We can get closer:
Nice. Here's what was left at the end of the meal:
Stuffed, we headed to a
dueling piano bar called Howl at the Moon.
I correctly predicted the song that Justin and Shima would each request
(Justin, “Walking in Memphis”; Shima, an unknown ditty titled “Call Me Maybe”). The performers were great—talented, funny, and
original. We played Name That Tune, with
one point for identifying the artist and another for identifying the song
title. Ten points won the game. We “buzzed in” by tapping the table. Justin won both games we played, which is
shocking because he doesn’t know anything about music.
Friday was our last day in
Chicago. We got to Wrigley Field two
hours before the game, grabbed some beers near the park, and negotiated prices
with peanut vendors a block from the gate.
One vendor told me that his $3 bag was 69 percent off the $5 price we’d
pay inside the stadium. I debated his
math. [Justin’s Note: He really
did. Ari asked multiple questions about
how he arrived at the figure of 69 percent.
Shima and I crossed the street, and Ari was still arguing the
point. This heated discussion is even
stranger because Ari had already bought two bags of peanuts.]
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| Breakfast before the Cubs game |
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| Pre-game toast celebrating Justin's new job |
Wrigley Field was like a
time machine. We must have been in the
1920s. No jumbotron. A manual scoreboard. Few corporate logos. Almost no entertainment between innings. It was great.
The stadium is for baseball fans who are there to watch baseball.
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| Fun fact: Notice the analog clock on the scoreboard. The stadium is so old that it was built before time could be expressed digitally. |
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| Old school: the Cubs don't even list their opponent's name on the small scoreboards in the stands. They just say, "Visitors." |
The Cubs fans also
impressed us. On a weekday at 1 o’clock,
the park nearly filled to catch a meaningless game between two teams whose
postseason hopes ended in spring training.
That’s devotion.
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| Great turnout |
The game itself turned out
to be fairly exciting. The Cubbies
trailed all afternoon before rallying for three runs in the eighth. The crowd went nuts. It was like 1908 all over again.
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| "Hey batter, batter, swing, batter!" |
We followed Cubs fans down
the street to an assortment of local bars.
We chose one with an outdoor patio and got drinks before saying goodbye
to Shima, who flew home to New York.
For dinner we met two of Justin’s mock trial friends—Mike Walsh and Melissa Pavely—at
Lou Malnati’s Pizza. They serve deep
dish, Chicago-style pizza. It was
surprisingly light and unsurprisingly delicious.
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| Veggie |
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| Sausage |
Justin encouraged Mike to
take home the two leftover slices for his children. My thoughts:
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