This evening I was posed with two possible after-5 options:
A. Go out drinking with friends at a bar nearby work or
B. Meet up with some old classmates for a show at the cinema
I chose option C — go by a restaurant and have a sandwich. It can never be said that my priorities are misplaced. But I can always say that my lover tastes great. Wait! Let me put that in context. I love to eat, but you know that already.
My intention was to go home early so that I could go to bed early. But on a Friday night, Gino. Are you mad? Are you bumbling? The sky is falling for you to be inside on a Friday night in the great city of Chicago. Well, I want to force myself to wake up early to go to a certain Italian café for breakfast. This particular eater supposedly has an outstanding menu and the food is good, all day long, all the time. I cannot come up with any reason why I should not partake of any of the loving from the kitchen so that I may be able to say myself that the chef deserves a gold star. But I have to get up out of the bed so that I may get to the café before the whole of Logan Square, Bucktown, and Wicker Park pile in to get their fill of the Italian eats.
And on the subject of eating and my constant expansion of restaurant outings in the city, I am soliciting some recommendations for good restaurants in the greater Chicago area. Searching for restaurants via Google — shameless plug for my preferred search engine — is great. But there is something a little more personal, a little more authentic, asking for suggestions from real people. There is no stock answer of, “The food tastes okay at restaurant X.” Plus, there are warnings given for restaurants to avoid, much like a certain restaurant that left me howling, cursing, and swearing in the middle of the night. No, there will be no write-up of that scafezza — Italian for disaster — showing up on the Chicago Alphabet Soup journal.
Oh, wait. That sounds like my buzzer. Yes, it is my delivery. Panang with tofu. Green curry with shrimp. Red curry with vegetables. And me exhibiting my stupid smile before getting my lips, chin, and cheeks smeared with curry gravy. Send in those recommendations to firstname.lastname@example.org and if I happen to be at an eatery in your part of town, perhaps we should meet up.