Chicago 2009 #1 - Food and Randomness
Chicago Part 1 – Food
Since Mr. Douglas was kind enough to remind me about he food and how much I could miss rice in just four days, here’s the detailed description.
First off this is Midwest. Remember that here, the four food groups are fried, sausage, beer and cheese. This is the place where ketchup is “fancy” and that said the food was ridiculously awesome. First night was deep dish pizza and beer. I have never in my life before been able to eat only one slice of pizza. Chicago broke me, on the first night, well that and the fried mozzarella sticks (for those of you checking, yes that counts as two food groups). But it was awesome. I was slightly less impressed with the local 312 beer but it wasn't bad. All things considered I could see myself drinking much more of it.
This of course was followed up by me passing out for a few hours on a bed then waking up to my typical black coffee…and leftover pizza which is just a good cold. On a further note here, supposedly this was one of the colder summers in Chicago and in the mornings, when I would get my coffee, I would take a five min walk down to the park by the Navy Pier and read the paper (something I rarely get to do at home) And I happened to notice that the joggers were rather inappropriate dressed for the chilly breezes that came in off the lake shore. And I’m already missing it.
Okay so coffee and leftover pizza eventually held over to lunch which ended up being a quick fish sandwich (fried) and some bastardized caipirinha that wasn’t bad but wasn’t a real drink. This is the point at which I begin to miss rice and fucking hate potatoes. Not that it stopped me.
Dinner was Italian which encompassed three of the four major food groups (excluding fried), but considering the amount of food it probably did permanent damage to at least a few of the organs in my digestive system. The worst part about it was turning down even the remotest possibility of dessert which, on retrospect, makes me feel like a quitter.
Breakfast the following morning was the typical two cups of coffee, my halfheartedly flipping through the Trib (oh and I learned something on this trip by the way; The shortened name I'm using for the Chicago Tribune, is apparently a slang term for a sexual act, so…yeah, score one for education) and I'm reading stories on each page about people dying, while intermittently scanning the breezy shoreline for the cute brunette I had seen the morning before. Sadly, that breakfast was quite possibly my healthiest meal.
The lunch that day was a Reuben thicker than I care to remember now and came with a side of potatoes that I’m fairly sure were seasoned with magic...or PCP, I’m not quite sure which. Because that meal kept me going through a pretty decent walk around Millennium park and the not-Sears tower.
Dinner, which was a rather plain hamburger did have one great benefit. It had the food that makes other foods taste better; bacon. I love bacon. I love bacon wrapped scallops. Bacon wrapped steak. I’m fairly sure that I would love bacon wrapped bacon, even Canadian bacon would be acceptable if I was drunk enough or if it was wrapped in thick, smoked bacon...or if it was wrapped around a really hot Canadian. But enough of the bacon because that night led to a nice cup of Irish coffee which taking an amazing boat tour. Architecture and a fireworks display while drinking a cup of Irish coffee with an extra shot of Bushmill’s in it was a nice way to round out a nice trip. I was even productive since Charlie’s a fucking idiot and managed to lose two sets of demo credentials and will never be able to live that one down since it infringed on my morning activities of goofing off and trying to find the brunette jogger.
Or it would have been a nice way to round out a nice trip if I didn’t then get the accompanying guilt trip from Di about taking a vacation and not visiting her in So Cal. But we got to talk some and I got to go upstairs and finish the leftover rigatoni, so things, you know, balance.
And then I had an airplane ride with half a dozen psychotic screaming kids and even a three dollar ginormous chocolate chip cookie couldn't stop me from thinking that I would love to put my tray table up and into the back of some godawful parent's skull
So, overall on the food; 10’s all around, except for the 9.7 from the Russian judge. On the plus side, I know what kinds of beer I like, I know that even a couple of days is enough to make me miss rice and I know that my caloric intake over the past week has been larger than that of many east African nations...combined. And it’s fucking awesome.
Since Mr. Douglas was kind enough to remind me about he food and how much I could miss rice in just four days, here’s the detailed description.
First off this is Midwest. Remember that here, the four food groups are fried, sausage, beer and cheese. This is the place where ketchup is “fancy” and that said the food was ridiculously awesome. First night was deep dish pizza and beer. I have never in my life before been able to eat only one slice of pizza. Chicago broke me, on the first night, well that and the fried mozzarella sticks (for those of you checking, yes that counts as two food groups). But it was awesome. I was slightly less impressed with the local 312 beer but it wasn't bad. All things considered I could see myself drinking much more of it.
This of course was followed up by me passing out for a few hours on a bed then waking up to my typical black coffee…and leftover pizza which is just a good cold. On a further note here, supposedly this was one of the colder summers in Chicago and in the mornings, when I would get my coffee, I would take a five min walk down to the park by the Navy Pier and read the paper (something I rarely get to do at home) And I happened to notice that the joggers were rather inappropriate dressed for the chilly breezes that came in off the lake shore. And I’m already missing it.
Okay so coffee and leftover pizza eventually held over to lunch which ended up being a quick fish sandwich (fried) and some bastardized caipirinha that wasn’t bad but wasn’t a real drink. This is the point at which I begin to miss rice and fucking hate potatoes. Not that it stopped me.
Dinner was Italian which encompassed three of the four major food groups (excluding fried), but considering the amount of food it probably did permanent damage to at least a few of the organs in my digestive system. The worst part about it was turning down even the remotest possibility of dessert which, on retrospect, makes me feel like a quitter.
Breakfast the following morning was the typical two cups of coffee, my halfheartedly flipping through the Trib (oh and I learned something on this trip by the way; The shortened name I'm using for the Chicago Tribune, is apparently a slang term for a sexual act, so…yeah, score one for education) and I'm reading stories on each page about people dying, while intermittently scanning the breezy shoreline for the cute brunette I had seen the morning before. Sadly, that breakfast was quite possibly my healthiest meal.
The lunch that day was a Reuben thicker than I care to remember now and came with a side of potatoes that I’m fairly sure were seasoned with magic...or PCP, I’m not quite sure which. Because that meal kept me going through a pretty decent walk around Millennium park and the not-Sears tower.
Dinner, which was a rather plain hamburger did have one great benefit. It had the food that makes other foods taste better; bacon. I love bacon. I love bacon wrapped scallops. Bacon wrapped steak. I’m fairly sure that I would love bacon wrapped bacon, even Canadian bacon would be acceptable if I was drunk enough or if it was wrapped in thick, smoked bacon...or if it was wrapped around a really hot Canadian. But enough of the bacon because that night led to a nice cup of Irish coffee which taking an amazing boat tour. Architecture and a fireworks display while drinking a cup of Irish coffee with an extra shot of Bushmill’s in it was a nice way to round out a nice trip. I was even productive since Charlie’s a fucking idiot and managed to lose two sets of demo credentials and will never be able to live that one down since it infringed on my morning activities of goofing off and trying to find the brunette jogger.
Or it would have been a nice way to round out a nice trip if I didn’t then get the accompanying guilt trip from Di about taking a vacation and not visiting her in So Cal. But we got to talk some and I got to go upstairs and finish the leftover rigatoni, so things, you know, balance.
And then I had an airplane ride with half a dozen psychotic screaming kids and even a three dollar ginormous chocolate chip cookie couldn't stop me from thinking that I would love to put my tray table up and into the back of some godawful parent's skull
So, overall on the food; 10’s all around, except for the 9.7 from the Russian judge. On the plus side, I know what kinds of beer I like, I know that even a couple of days is enough to make me miss rice and I know that my caloric intake over the past week has been larger than that of many east African nations...combined. And it’s fucking awesome.
posted by rpalmeira | 8:45 PM
|
0 comments
