My coworker, Young Finance Guy, invited me and Tyler to double-date with him and his boyfriend for Chicago's Restaurant Week. I don't know if YFG has been to Restaurant Week before, but it was Tyler and my first time going to any sorts of restaurants like these.
For those unfamiliar with the concept, Restaurant Week is basically a week where all these restaurants showcase a couple of their best items (appetizer, entree, dessert) for a flat rate. Most of these places are a bit fancy so, traditionally, Restaurant Week is a way for us peons to get classy food for a bit of a discount.
We decided to go to the Bistro Bordeaux in Evanston, a very charming little French place where actual French people seemed to dine. It's quite small and cozy, with a coat-check near the front. A lone votive candle on each of the tables and a few small wall sconces seemed to be the only sources of light in restaurant. Very dim, very romantic. I'm afraid to say that I didn't take any pictures worth reproducing here b/c I didn't want to ruin the romantic atmosphere with my camera flash. (I have some decency, you know!) So you're just going to have to trust me on how delicious and beautiful everything was.
For the appetizer, I had the Pâté de foie de Volaille, or chicken liver pate.
Oh. My. Goodness. All I have to say is, whoever invented the pâté was either a genius or the devil. There is no in-between. The pâté arrived in a substantial glass clamp jar about the size of my fist, covered in a layer of solid fat sprinkled with chopped chives that you have to break through to get to the delicious rosy-grey liver, as soft as cream cheese. There was enough to spread through at least 2 loaves of bread. I barely got through a quarter of it on my pieces of toasted baguette. It felt a bit wasteful since like...I mean, the solid fat was basically a seal, right, which showed that they made each serving individually. This was not something they just squeezed out of a tube and slapped on a few pieces of bread.
I picked the Moules Frites au Piment d’Espelette for my entree, which was like a ridiculous number of tender mussels cooked in this outrageously yummy wine sauce and topped with shredded turnip and green olives. The wine sauce was so delicious, I could've eaten it like soup. The mussels came with a giant cone of skinny French fries and some sort of garlicky, tangy mayo-type sauce. Just in case my arteries weren't clogged enough from the pâté!
For dessert, Tyler and I shared the Profiteroles au Chocolat and Brioche Bread Pudding. I'm not a huge fan of cream puffs, so I definitely liked the bread pudding better. It was two squares of soft, custardy brioche that seemed to have been torched on one side for an intriguing, bitter, caramel-y edge. It was topped with a dense vanilla ice cream, caramel sauce, pecans and two slices of baked apple.
I almost passed out right there and then. It's actually what I am on my way to do, but I thought I ought to record the experience while it was still fresh in my mind.
On a slightly more historical note, Rahm Emanuel is now the mayor of Chicago. He looks like the type of scary, intense man that you never, ever, ever want to be stranded on a desert island with, b/c he will kill you and eat you with his bare hands so he can come back to rule Chicago. I mean, this guy is that driven. Who knows, maybe that's what this city needs: a guy who, if he really put his mind to it, will figure out how to shoot lasers out of his eyes. Maybe he won't be able to balance the budget, but gosh darn it if he couldn't turn himself into Cyclops.
And now, bed.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
personal hell
So I signed up to do this in-office fitness screening that required me to fast for 12 hours and then produce two vials of blood. I was also measured for height (5'1) and weight (3 pounds heavier than at Christmas. Seriously?! But I've been Zumba-ing!)
Afterwards, I decided that my own personal hell would be spending infinity:
- hungry
- having a nurse sticking at me, trying unsuccessfully to find a suitable vein while
- standing on a scale that produces ever-increasing numbers and
- trying on bathing suits
That would just be the worst.
Afterwards, I decided that my own personal hell would be spending infinity:
- hungry
- having a nurse sticking at me, trying unsuccessfully to find a suitable vein while
- standing on a scale that produces ever-increasing numbers and
- trying on bathing suits
That would just be the worst.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
inaugural chicago snow day
Happy First Snow Day Since 1999! (Midwesterners: Hasn't it been fun? And did you know that, in VA, we have at least 3 snow days a year? May be something you guys want to consider having more often.)
I'm not sure exactly how it works, but the snow seemed to like, amplify every single street light last night. Like my room was lit up, bright yellow, all night. Throw in the crazy wind, a little lightning, a little thunder, and it felt a bit like sleeping in a train tunnel.
So what did I do with my snow day?
WELL. I wish I could say I was super productive, like "worked from home" or "shoveled the front walk for elderly neighbors" but that would be 1. a lie and 2. I don't have a shovel, a front walk or elderly neighbors. I'm a little bit ashamed to say that I basically spent all day cleaning out my pantry/closet and eating whatever I find. I realize that sounds kind of gross...and yes, it kind of was. This is what I've done today:
- Roll out of bed and examine the weather situation. Can barely see outside. Still tons of snow falling. Check my work email, respond to a few messages. Log off.
- Find two vacuum-sealed packages of tie dan, delicious little bird eggs sent to me from my mom God only knows when, and they were still yummy. Love that vacuum seal! And the fact that tie dan is basically like tasty, rubberized eggs. Eat two eggs.
- Work out for 20 minutes to "Buff Moms: Beyond Baby Body Workout." This is because I naturally basically have a post-baby body and this workout has actually been very helpful in toning the side-hip-fat area. Also it was like $4 or something at a thrift store, so...yeah.
- Check work email again as I recover, red-faced, from the Baby Mama workout.
- Step on the scale. Weight as expected.
- Shower. Go right back into my pjs, b/c I am a bum.
- Eat a banana while I cook a bowl of Neoguri ramen with one egg. Think affectionately of the last time I saw Neoguri, which was at Steph's apartment in December.
- Curl up on the couch with a blanket and watch an episode of CSI: Las Vegas. Spike is one of the few channels that I still have after downgrading to a cheaper cable package. (No MTV, VH1, TLC, OR the History Channel! How am I going to get my What Not to Wear or Ancient Aliens fix?! Gahhh. But that is a story of woe for another day.)
- Notice a Lindt truffle ball hiding in a pile of coupons on my coffee table. I eat it.
- Remember that I had another package of truffles that I lifted from Tyler's apartment (he doesn't like dark chocolate and was just going to give it away anyway). Dig it out from the back of my fridge. Eat two pieces.
- Remember a Marie Claire article I read about women and their sex numbers, as in, the number of people they've slept with. I look up one of the women they profiled, Lena Chen, who began blogging about her sexual experiences when she was a student at Harvard. Briefly consider interviewing her for Hyphen as some sort of Valentine special for my February column. Then, I thought 1. she's a very good writer, so she'd probably want to write it herself, and 2. she's kind of like a female Tucker Max, and I just don't know how I feel about that.
- Ponder the merits of internet over-share and personal branding. Lena's found pretty steady writing gigs as a result of the popularity of her sex blog. Should I blog about the intimate details of my personal life? ...Would anyone care to read things like "Gave Tyler a package of new socks today. He said thanks"? Not exactly titillating topics.
- While feeling bizarrely depressed about my lack of random sexual encounters, I find a tin of chocolate hazelnut pirouettes that I received from Tyler's mom for my birthday. Debate bringing it to the Super Bowl Party this weekend. Decide that a bunch of smelly gross guys probably don't want to eat frilly girly food. Eat three pirouettes.
- Weigh myself again. Have gained 3 pounds since the morning. Eye the tin of pirouettes longingly, but put it away on top of the fridge. 3 pounds! Since this morning?! Whyyyy.
- Overcome by afternoon lethargy. Feeling kind of sleepy and still irrationally grumpy about not having a very interesting sexual history. Root around in my pantry/closet again and find a stray package of Taiwanese milk tea in a bag next to my new boots. Very odd. But very delicious. The caffeine perks up my brain and I think, "I might not have gone to Harvard or started a national conversation about feminism, but people also don't call me a morally reprehensible whore." Gotta count my blessings, right?
And now I'm here, watching the day turn grey, trying to decide what to eat for dinner, and dreading going back to work tomorrow. All in all, a nice and enjoyable snow day, even if I don't have a sex blog to show for it.
I'm not sure exactly how it works, but the snow seemed to like, amplify every single street light last night. Like my room was lit up, bright yellow, all night. Throw in the crazy wind, a little lightning, a little thunder, and it felt a bit like sleeping in a train tunnel.
So what did I do with my snow day?
WELL. I wish I could say I was super productive, like "worked from home" or "shoveled the front walk for elderly neighbors" but that would be 1. a lie and 2. I don't have a shovel, a front walk or elderly neighbors. I'm a little bit ashamed to say that I basically spent all day cleaning out my pantry/closet and eating whatever I find. I realize that sounds kind of gross...and yes, it kind of was. This is what I've done today:
- Roll out of bed and examine the weather situation. Can barely see outside. Still tons of snow falling. Check my work email, respond to a few messages. Log off.
- Find two vacuum-sealed packages of tie dan, delicious little bird eggs sent to me from my mom God only knows when, and they were still yummy. Love that vacuum seal! And the fact that tie dan is basically like tasty, rubberized eggs. Eat two eggs.
- Work out for 20 minutes to "Buff Moms: Beyond Baby Body Workout." This is because I naturally basically have a post-baby body and this workout has actually been very helpful in toning the side-hip-fat area. Also it was like $4 or something at a thrift store, so...yeah.
- Check work email again as I recover, red-faced, from the Baby Mama workout.
- Step on the scale. Weight as expected.
- Shower. Go right back into my pjs, b/c I am a bum.
- Eat a banana while I cook a bowl of Neoguri ramen with one egg. Think affectionately of the last time I saw Neoguri, which was at Steph's apartment in December.
- Curl up on the couch with a blanket and watch an episode of CSI: Las Vegas. Spike is one of the few channels that I still have after downgrading to a cheaper cable package. (No MTV, VH1, TLC, OR the History Channel! How am I going to get my What Not to Wear or Ancient Aliens fix?! Gahhh. But that is a story of woe for another day.)
- Notice a Lindt truffle ball hiding in a pile of coupons on my coffee table. I eat it.
- Remember that I had another package of truffles that I lifted from Tyler's apartment (he doesn't like dark chocolate and was just going to give it away anyway). Dig it out from the back of my fridge. Eat two pieces.
- Remember a Marie Claire article I read about women and their sex numbers, as in, the number of people they've slept with. I look up one of the women they profiled, Lena Chen, who began blogging about her sexual experiences when she was a student at Harvard. Briefly consider interviewing her for Hyphen as some sort of Valentine special for my February column. Then, I thought 1. she's a very good writer, so she'd probably want to write it herself, and 2. she's kind of like a female Tucker Max, and I just don't know how I feel about that.
- Ponder the merits of internet over-share and personal branding. Lena's found pretty steady writing gigs as a result of the popularity of her sex blog. Should I blog about the intimate details of my personal life? ...Would anyone care to read things like "Gave Tyler a package of new socks today. He said thanks"? Not exactly titillating topics.
- While feeling bizarrely depressed about my lack of random sexual encounters, I find a tin of chocolate hazelnut pirouettes that I received from Tyler's mom for my birthday. Debate bringing it to the Super Bowl Party this weekend. Decide that a bunch of smelly gross guys probably don't want to eat frilly girly food. Eat three pirouettes.
- Weigh myself again. Have gained 3 pounds since the morning. Eye the tin of pirouettes longingly, but put it away on top of the fridge. 3 pounds! Since this morning?! Whyyyy.
- Overcome by afternoon lethargy. Feeling kind of sleepy and still irrationally grumpy about not having a very interesting sexual history. Root around in my pantry/closet again and find a stray package of Taiwanese milk tea in a bag next to my new boots. Very odd. But very delicious. The caffeine perks up my brain and I think, "I might not have gone to Harvard or started a national conversation about feminism, but people also don't call me a morally reprehensible whore." Gotta count my blessings, right?
And now I'm here, watching the day turn grey, trying to decide what to eat for dinner, and dreading going back to work tomorrow. All in all, a nice and enjoyable snow day, even if I don't have a sex blog to show for it.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
snow in the windy city
In my past three winters in Chicago, I never once saw anything cancelled on account of snow or cold. My first year here, I remember anxiously wondering if I should go to class after a foot of snow fell overnight. After not hearing about any cancellations, I wrapped my face in a scarf and trudged out to Fisk Hall, half-expecting to run into people telling me that class was cancelled.
To my surprise, the kids who grew up in the Midwest were already in class, talking and pulling out their notebooks like it was no big deal. Others who, like me, had not grown up on the outskirts of civilization, were like "WTF IS GOING ON WHY ARE WE HERE." The Georgia girls looked particularly bewildered, but who could blame them? Why would you trade beautiful, peachy Atlanta for a city encrusted in snow and ice, and not in a good way?
After a while, I kind of got used to it. Walking and waiting at bus stops through foot after foot of snow and ice and wind and negative 20-degree days. Nothing was ever closed. Nothing was ever cancelled.
So it's with some trepidation to get an email saying that my office has been closed tomorrow due to the blizzard. Whoa. What?? That kind of scared me! I mean, seriously, how bad is it that offices decided to close tomorrow? Thankfully I took a page from my East Coast friends who went through that awful storm last week by deciding to work from home today instead of risking an hours-long commute home from the office. Best decision ever.
Stay warm, everyone! I'm going to go burrow under a blanket with some chocolate and a glass of wine. Can't wait to watch some White Collar tonight! Peter Burke and Neal Caffrey, omggg.
To my surprise, the kids who grew up in the Midwest were already in class, talking and pulling out their notebooks like it was no big deal. Others who, like me, had not grown up on the outskirts of civilization, were like "WTF IS GOING ON WHY ARE WE HERE." The Georgia girls looked particularly bewildered, but who could blame them? Why would you trade beautiful, peachy Atlanta for a city encrusted in snow and ice, and not in a good way?
After a while, I kind of got used to it. Walking and waiting at bus stops through foot after foot of snow and ice and wind and negative 20-degree days. Nothing was ever closed. Nothing was ever cancelled.
So it's with some trepidation to get an email saying that my office has been closed tomorrow due to the blizzard. Whoa. What?? That kind of scared me! I mean, seriously, how bad is it that offices decided to close tomorrow? Thankfully I took a page from my East Coast friends who went through that awful storm last week by deciding to work from home today instead of risking an hours-long commute home from the office. Best decision ever.
Stay warm, everyone! I'm going to go burrow under a blanket with some chocolate and a glass of wine. Can't wait to watch some White Collar tonight! Peter Burke and Neal Caffrey, omggg.
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