Something Old, Something New

It's 2009 and I don't know where I'm going or who I am. Funny how an arbitrary social construction has such power to trigger quarter-life crises. And for a number of reasons, coming back to Chicago was kind of a letdown. I realize that vacations are obviously more fun than normality, but being at home and hanging out with old friends really brought out thoughts and emotions that had gone latent in the last year. This is probably a little true for everyone, but I feel like a chameleon, as though the people I am surrounded by bring out different things in me, for better or worse.

Identity crisis aside, Dan was in town to visit, so I was able to continue wading in nostalgia for a few days. Who else is going to discuss the Sokal affair and empirical moral psychology with me? Just like old times, he arrived with at least half a dozen books, khakis, and a Windows-free computer. Plus, he was game for doing some biking around town, the first of my out-of-town visitors to take the challenge, and in winter no less.

Among other places, we ended up at San Soo Gap San (a kick-ass Korean restaurant, albeit with charmingly terrible service), Ethiopian Diamond (silverware is for wimps), and Meigs Field. The latter is not generally high on the list of Chicago sights to see, but if you are familiar with the game Microsoft Flight Simulator, Meigs Field is the default take-off location. Unfortunately, the airport is no longer in existence because in 2003, under the cover of darkness, Mayor Daley illegally ordered construction crews to gouge gashes in the runway to forcibly close the airport. Ostensibly, "homeland security" was the reason given for its closure. As a result, 16 planes were left stranded without a runway, and one flight had to be diverted. Ah, Chicago politics... Today, there is one control tower left, but the rest of the island is desolate parkland. One building remains as a "Visitor's Center," which was closed even though we arrived during the posted opening hours.

Saturday night, we made a quick stop at the Publican for drinks and fries before a show at Second City. After hearing lots of buzz for the last couple months, I was curious to check out this much-heralded restaurant and its pork & beer-heavy menu. This is definitely not a place to bring your vegetarian friends. We couldn't get a reservation for a table, but there are a few circular cocktail tables that you can comfortably huddle around. The beer list is extensive, almost to the point of being overwhelming, however our server gave several recommendations, and most of us opted to take one of her suggestions. And oh, the fries! Piping hot, crisp frites in a paper cone, served with an aioli on the side. I also tried the pork rinds, which came perfectly puffed and salted, with a slight tartness. This is "bar food" at its best.

Excellent food aside, I do have mixed feelings about the restaurant's decor, which is evocative of a beer hall. Dan and Nate took offense when I described the atmosphere as "masculine," but seriously, there are lots of heavy lines and hard angles, loud music, and a whole lot of wood. Seating options consist of enclosed booths with doors (these reminded me of 19th century church pews), or there is a long table for communal dining, with bulky, square chairs. This would be the perfect place to hold a beefsteak. Having painted a testoterone-laden picture though, I will say that I never felt uncomfortable or uneasy. I'm not enough of a meat aficianado to come here on my own (I can't remember the last time I was at a steakhouse), but it was a fun place to hang out for drinks, and was certainly a step up from say, drinking at Funk.