I'm Getting Old

Last night was my quarterly Girls Night Out in the city, and the food was great. MK, which had been on THE LIST (that's not a good thing) since I'd been there eons ago when it first opened, was our destination, and we all had a great time. Great food, great drinks, and great company.

But it was also an eye-opening experience for me. I'm just not as young as I used to be.

Exhibit A: When exiting Metra at 6:30, I yawned. I was tired, and I debated caffeine, but then I decided that would just keep me up all night.

Exhibit B: I walked to MK, and about halfway there, I realized I had blisters forming on the balls of my feet. I kept walking. When I finally had to stop for a red light, my feet were burning. I thought aobut taking a picture to show you the massive blisters, but I spared you (you're welcome). I used to walk a mile and a half to and from work on a daily basis in heels, regardless of the weather (and yes, this includes snow). Apparently, I'm a little old for that now.

Exhibit C: I used to order the foods that sounded interesting, knowing that if I didn't love them, that was ok, but at least I tried something different. Last night, I went totally safe on dessert with their apple something or other. By the time it arrived, I regretted my choice of not going for the funky deconstructed "sorta" carrot cake. I used to be more interesting. Apparently I go beige in my old age.

Exhibit D: I no longer get on the Metra on my way home to scope out the seat I want because it's my favorite place to sit. Now, I watch where the young obnoxious kids sit, and I choose a different car. I'm not just old; I'm a cranky curmudgeon.

I'm not quite ready for the asssisted living facility, but a few more years and I might need one at this rate!

Don't You Wish You Lived In Chicago?

Last night was my quarterly girls night out (GNO) with some friends I've known since college. For each of our seasonal dinners, we head into the city from our respective workplaces and meet up somewhere with good food and good drinks.

Someone -- and I don't remember who, but unfortunately it was't me -- had the inspired choice of one sixtyblue. It's not our traditional Loop or near the Loop choice, as it was at Randolph and Ogden, but I am so going back there again.

We'll start with the cocktails. While I tried all of these, it doesn't mean I actually ordered them all. I only had three. And I took the train into the city and home.

The Spring Fling and the Veev Southside were really unique drinks that weren't overly sweet, so you could drink them during dinner. The Spring Fling was really fun with both kumquats and mustard greens. I was a little iffy on the mustard greens at first, but they were just crushed for flavor like the mint in a mojito.

The Pom Paradise was quite dangerous. It was really sweet with a lovely undercurrent of pineapple. And it didn't taste like there was any alcohol in it whatsoever. That is a dangerous combination though. And the Velveteen Rabbit? It sounds a little iffy with carrot juice and ginger and such, but it was a really unique and spicy drink that worked well with our main courses.

Speaking of food, it was delicious. The portions weren't huge, but we all left very full. We shared appetizers, and we happily could have just ordered more and been happy.

I didn't eat the foie gras or the gulf shrimp because those just aren't my things, but the smoked king salmon served on a bed of hashbrowns and the herbed ricotta dumplings were heavenly. I ended up being the rude one and using some of the delicious, hot sourdough bread to sop up the cream sauce leftover from the most tender, moist dumplings I've ever tasted. You wouldn't expect hash browns to be the base for smoked salmon, but it actually worked well. I'm thinking the chef has something for hash browns in general, as the foie gras also came served on a round of hash browns, and we had hash browns with a garnish of carmelized onions as one of our shared sides.

It was quite difficult to decide on the entrees, as well. The table next to us was served the bison ravioli, which immediately decided two of my friends. I would never have dreamed of bison as a filling for ravioli, but one of my friends shared. It was a little drier than I'd expected, for some reason, but it was rather flavorful, and the cream sauce kept it from being too dry.

I finally decided on the seared yellowfin. It was served with shaved hearts of palm, fresh wasabi cream and some other flavorful accompaniments. Although I was slightly disappointed by the presentation, as it was large chunks strewn across the plate which made it slightly difficult to cut into appropriate bite-sized pieces to eat. The grilled salmon my last friend ordered was done to perfection, and the English peas worked really well with the Scottish salmon (we were joking that they'd be feuding by the time the food arrived on our table).

We somehow managed to save room for some dessert, and it was difficult to decide between the brown butter carrot cake, the chocolate souffle tart, tres leches, and more. We decided on the sticky toffee date cake and the trio of sorbets.

While we waited for them to arrive, the server brought a dessert amuse bouche. I love those. This one had mini tapioca balls in the bottom of the glass, strawberry compote, and some raspberry ice scoop on top. That was such a clean way to refresh after our dinner, and we all drank them quickly. One friend wasn't a fan of the tapioca balls, but if you like bubble tea, you'd be content with this as a treat.

Then our desserts arrived. After my first taste of the cake, I questioned my decision to share the desserts and not keep one for myself. It was served also cut into three chunks, which I thought was odd, but it was sweet and moist and had a unique bite. The toasted coconut ice cream and bits of honey granola garnish added a nice complement to the cake.

While we all loved the toffee date cake, the sorbets didn't go over quite as well with my friends. There were three flavors served on little shortbread cookies. I preferred the sorbet to the cookies, but one of my friends finally scraped the sorbet off the cookie to just munch on the cookie. Unfortunately, I can't tell you what flavor the sorbets were, as no one told us when the desserts were served to us - one of the few service mistakes we had. I was the only one who enjoyed the very sour one, that we decided was lemon. The orange sorbet, I was told was quite good, although that disappeared before I had the opportunity to taste it. The third one we think may have been guava or papaya. It was much less flavorful than the others, and it was also the only thing left on the plate when we left.

When our bill arrived, they also delivered some take home goodies. We were povided with fresh caramels that didn't make it out of the restaurant. And by fresh, I mean still slightly warm and oh so gooey and buttery. We also received a little chocolate cake like thing. Again, I'm not sure what it is as no one told us and mine is uneaten as yet, but they look delicious.

I was very happy that I had chosen to wear black, as just about all the patrons in the restaurant were also wearing black. However, I was happy I wasn't wearing all black so that I wasn't mistaken for the wait staff.

The front bar was hopping. When we were waiting for the rest of our party to arrive, I was a little concerned that it was going to be another loud dinner (like the Gage Cafe we ate at for winter), but the dj (and yes, there was a dj in a cute little glass booth) was only spinning records for the front bar. Once we were brought back into the main part of the restaurant, it was much quieter. No one lost a voice this time around.

We sat at a table in front of the kitchen, which had pluses and minuses. One of my friends didn't like looking into the open kitchen, but I always enjoy watching the preparations of food. Then again, I like to cook! Because we were in the row of tables closest to the kitchen, we were sometimes served from behind our banquette. This was awkward, as the servers had to stretch over the back of the bench to our table, and it was too far a reach for them to do naturally. I would recommend changing that for future patrons.

Aside from that, the service was fairly attentive without being overbearing -- with the few exceptions already noted. It was disappointing that our server wasn't with us each time. We had to tell those who delivered our food which dish went to which person. I would have expected better of a restaurant this caliber. No one ever explained dishes as they were set in front of us, except for the amuse bouche. I always like hearing about my choices again, especially when they're somewhat unusual, and I may not remember what exacty I ordered.

It was a wonderful meal, and I'll happily return there again. Even more of a pleasure was receiving our bill. Even with our drinks, the meal wasn't nearly as expensive as we'd expected it to be. It wasn't like a meal out at McDonalds or Chili's, but it was still less than we were fearing.

So ... if anyone is interested in enjoying a meal that focuses on local and organic foods, let me know. I'm happy to return to one sixtyblue to round out a dinner party!

Mommy Has A Life, Too. Sometimes.

Yesterday, I talked about the fun day I had with my kids. And really, it was fun. After I posted, I went out and had more fun. Each quarter, three friends and I (all of whom live in the city except for me) go have dinner somewhere fun downtown. It's our seasonal get together -- to the point where our reservations are now under the name spring, summer, autumn, and winter.

It all started out pretty well. I made the train -- and I haven't always done that. Plus, I was reading. An actual, honest to God real book. A poorly written one, admittedly, but I was actually reading a real book like an adult. Ahhhhh.

When my phone rang and saw it was my husband, I debated not answering. Fortunately, I did. He wasn't having such a good time in the 13 minutes since I'd left the house. He went to wake up Little Miss, who was sleeping so soundly after our day out that ummm she kind of had an accident in her bed. And she was very upset about it. OH! And the reason my husband went to go wake her up was that well, long story.

He coaches. And today (Valentine's Day, thank you very much) he has a tournament in Bloomington. That's like three hours from here. And he drives a mini-bus with the kids to the tournament. Smart and efficient man that he is, he picked up the bus last night from the garage place and brought it home to save time this morning.

That's all well and good until he got the call from the high school asking if he'd taken bus number three. Yeah... the cheerleaders needed that bus last night. And he had to return it. Immediately. Thus, Little Miss was woken up from her nap. Needless to say, Mister Man and Little Miss loved the special bus ride last night. And I got to just giggle while I relaxed on the train down to the city.

When I arrived, I remembered yet again how much I miss it. As I walked down Madison, there was a guy singing his original composition "Oh Yeah, Don't Give Her No Peanut Butter" over and over again while accompanying himself on his makeshift drumset. There's nothing like it.

I met up with my friend at her office building and we headed over to the Gage Cafe. It's an upscale Irish gastropub. Basically everything from fish and chips to a saddle of elk. My friend and I walked in about ten minutes early, and my first comment to her was that they certainly weren't hurting for business.

The place is loud. REALLY loud. Loud enough that after we'd been waiting for a few moments, a couple approached me and asked if I were from around there. They wanted to know if I could recommend a place nearby that was quieter. Luckily, they asked (in my opinion, of course) the right person, and I directed them to a few places. I saw them leaving about three minutes later headed, I believe, to The Village. The third floor has a lovely quiet restaurant with suberb food and wonderful service.

When we sat down, we were in a loud area, but we were too hungry to wait the extra forty minutes for a table in the back section -- where presumably it was quieter. Our waiter appeared after we'd sat there for five or ten minutes. Just long enough to say he'd be back shortly to take our drink orders.

I will say that our waiter had a really great accent. And he had stories about everything -- including items on the menu to avoid, which you never hear. When we finally got our drinks about forty minutes after sitting down (Cucumber Cobbler for me, and yes it was a) as interesting as it sounds and b) as strong as the Irish like their alcohol), I realized that I wasn't going to make the train I usually do. And I was so totally ok with that -- gotta love hanging out with my girlfriends!

And the food? Ohhhh, the food. It was delicious. We started out sharing four appetizers. They chose fried chicken livers that I didn't partake in. We all enjoyed the other three -- house cured salmon with some delish caviar, the Gage fondue (and we so could have gone for another round of that), and caramelized lobster over quinoa. Funky, huh? I was really bummed that we weren't more hungry, as the trough of fries with curry gravy sounded really good, too. Granted, they didn't include "trough" in the description.

The entrees weren't as easy. There wasn't anything that jumped out at me, so I chose another appetizer as my entree. Have I mentioned that I love risotto? Yeah. The goat cheese risotto with crispy basil and escargot rocked. Everyone was jealous, although one of my friends had a fluke that looked really good.

Before our entrees arrived, we each ordered another round of drinks -- plain mojito for me this time. And yes, I know it doesn't go with risotto. Apparently the waiter did, too, as the second round didn't arrive until my risotto was gone. Needless to say, nice waiter comped them all. And he blamed my mojito for being the cause, as the bartenders hate to make them because they take work. Uh-huh.

Ohhhh, and did I mention dessert? Usually, we all check out the dessert menu before ordering so we know how much room to save. This menu didn't show desserts, so we had to wing it. Fortunately, we saved room. The creme brulee with mission figs was wonderful and not freezing cold for once. Our brown sugar souffle with the alcohol-y goo they poured in the middle -- di.vine. And the coffee and donuts? I can't even begin to describe them, but they're so not what you'd think coffee and donuts would be. They're orgasmically better. We were really glad we saved room -- me, especially since I had an appetizer for my entree.

When we finally left the restaurant way more than three and a half hours after we first walked in, it was no quieter. Outside, however, it was snowing. With the sort of -- for Chicago, anyway -- nice weather we've been having lately, I forgot that it was still only the middle of February and snow is kind of normal. But my very, very nice friend drove me back to Ogilvie so I could just barely make the 10:30 train and not having to wait until 11:30 to start my trek back to the boonies.

I swear, the late night and the alcohol and the very, very loud restaurant have nothing to do with the fact that I'm without a voice today. Nothing.

How many days until the spring equinox when we can start planning our next dinner out?

Oh yeah -- and Happy Valentine's Day!

You Can't Ruin Our Night!

Sometimes, we all need adult time. Time to remember what it was like when there was no one hanging on our legs, whining or begging for something. A few moments when there is no need to referee or answer why for the five thousandth time.

Last night, I arranged for a Girls’ Night Out with some of my friends from my playgroup at the Melting Pot. On Thursdays, they do a Ladies Night special where you get cheese fondue, a salad and chocolate fondue for $18 (it used to be $15 but …). Plus there are $6 special martinis (that used to be $5).

Needless to say, I was looking forward to the evening. Especially after spending 10 ½ hours at work – and I do mean literally 10 ½ hours in the office working. That doesn’t count the hour commute.

As I pulled into the parking lot at 6:44, one of my friends called me. Apparently, they had no recollection of any such reservation for us and were making an issue of it. Fortunately, the friend who called me tends to be somewhat forceful, shall we say? When I walked in, they were about to seat us. As I walked through the restaurant to our table, I wondered why they were concerned about our reservation when there were so many empty tables. I never did figure that out.

Our waiter introduced himself and took our drink orders – yay, the first time a waiter didn’t try to take the drink menu immediately after a group of ladies ordered the first round of martinis for an evening out. Twenty five minutes later, he informed us that the bartender was still a bit backed up but that our drinks would be coming soon. Uh-huh.

He also took our cheese and salad orders. One friend asked where the tomatoes were from, as she had tomatoes on her salad. He reassured us that there were no tomatoes on the salad. So we waited. And waited.

When he came back twenty minutes later with our cheese, he dropped bread all over our table, and we felt bad for him, as he was obviously nervous. He did manage to make the cheese fairly well, however, so that was ok. Yum!

He checked on us when he brought our drinks and asked if we’d like more bread or vegetables. We requested more vegetables. They never arrived. As in he totally forgot. Hmm.

By that point, my water glass was completely empty – even the ice had melted – but I couldn’t find the waiter to even ask him to refill my water. He did finally come back to take away the cheese.

By that point, another friend had tasted her raspberry martini. She gave me a taste, too, and it was pure alcohol with no hint of raspberry; it was definitely not the same drink I’d had there before, and she didn’t like it at all. Since she’d asked the waiter’s opinion prior to ordering and explained that she didn’t like martinis in general, we expected this to be a non-issue. When he took the cheese, she explained that the drink was too strong and she didn’t care for it and requested that he take it away and just get her a Diet Coke.

Waiter: Oh, ummm. I know the manager doesn’t like us to take away drinks after they’ve been served to customers. I’ll have to ask him about that, and I don’t think I’ll be able to credit you for that. But I guess I can bring you a Diet Coke. Seriously? Seriously you have to talk to your manager and throw around some attitude when someone doesn’t like a drink that (honestly) wasn’t made properly? And you guess you can bring a paying customer a Diet Coke?

Oh, then he let us know that actually, they do have tomatoes, just as an FYI. My friend again requested the tomatoes’ background. He also reassured the other three of us that our salads had no tomatoes. When he came back, he told us the vendor they used for the tomatoes, as if that would clear it right up for us. Finally he discovered they were from California, which was a cleared state. Oh, and actually two of the three of us also had tomatoes in our salads. Needless to say, we were losing faith in him quickly.

The good news is that the four of us can gab for hours with nothing to sustain us, so the evening wasn’t ruined by any stretch. And the food totally rocked – once we got it. When he brought our salads, I looked around for the coconut crusted cashews that I’d asked for on the side instead of on the salad. The waiter saw me looking and again I can only quote him, “I have no idea why they didn’t put those on the side for you. Did you actually want them?” Uhhh, yes. That’s why I asked for them on the side rather than requesting that they just be left off, thanks.

I asked for my water refill again (I’d asked during the tomato clarification). A female who happened to walk by our table saw our empty glasses, and she voluntarily refilled them without us asking.

Dessert also took a good fifteen minutes after ordering before it finally came. And he about started his hand on fire, but by that point we just wanted to eat our chocolate. And we just about did eat the chocolate by itself, as he forgot to bring us the goodies to dip into the chocolate. Arg!

While we were eating our chocolate, he brought us our check. Fortunately, we completely ignored it while we chatted away and enjoyed our dessert. Apparently he had completely mischarged us, so he brought us an updated bill before we were ready to start heading out.

He then checked on us every five minutes to see what else we needed. We decided to pay, thinking that would give him some satisfaction and he’d let us be. It wasn’t like anyone was waiting for the table or the restaurant was about to close! Half of us had cash and the other half had credit cards. When he picked up the bill, he honestly couldn’t figure out what to do. We finally had to explain to him to take the cash off the bill then split the bill in two and charge each of the credit cards half the amount that remained. His muttered “No problem” as he skulked off didn’t inspire confidence, but he did get it right fortunately.

We continued to gossip like the magpies we are, and he continued to check in every five minutes until we gently explained that he needed to just leave us alone. After we’d been just sitting and chatting for … well, awhile, the manager – you remember, the snooty one who insisted someone must have called to cancel our reservation – walked up to our table. Internally, we all groaned.

But no, for whatever reason, he simply wanted to share with us a bottle of muscato. Maybe he realized that we’d had a rotten time or maybe he felt a tiny twinge of guilt for treating us so yuckily when we first got there. Regardless, he gave each of us a glass of lovely dessert wine for us to savor as we wound up our evening.

We finally decided it was time to go when one of the husbands called for a second time to find out where we were and what time we were going to be home. Of course, the first time he called, he wanted to know how his wife did it with the two kids at home all the time – oh yeah and to find out how to put the kids to bed. We all giggled over that one.

This group has been hanging out together now for four and a half years. Periodically, we’ll do a girls’ night like this, and every time we do, we have a ton of fun and say we need to do it again soon. And yet, I think this may have been the first one – or maybe the second – since one of our group moved to London two years ago. Oops!