sweet home Chicago

We were in Chicago, one of my favorite cities, almost all of last week for work-related stuff. And man, I had forgotten how much better the food is there — especially compared to the Twin Cities. Minnesotans are not renowned for their cuisine, which tends toward the bland and lifeless. The story I always tell to illustrate this involves a Minnesotan friend of mine who once served me chili that contained no chili powder. Her spice rack consisted of an old can of pre-ground pepper and some long-dead onion flakes. Not everyone around here is like that, but I still find that it’s best to not eat the white-people food. And with so many great ethnic restaurants around, that’s pretty easy to do.

So anyway, Chicago: land of famous hot dogs, pizza, and steaks. I don’t think I ate anything untasty the entire time I was there. I had given myself permission to order pretty much whatever I wanted, so long as I watched my portions. It turned out that I was quite surprised by what it was that I wanted. Usually I eat consistently horribly when I travel. This time was much ore schizophrenic. Sometimes I felt like onion rings and red meat, but other times I felt like a salad of baby greens with apple, pear, gorgonzola, and raspberry vinagrette. Sometimes I felt like half of a veggie omelet with hashbrowns, and sometimes I felt like a bagel with egg and red peppers. I kept turning down sausage with breakfast, although I did eat meat at various other meals (but not always). And I never ate to the point that it hurt. So some of the good habits really are seeping in! I gained one pound while we were gone, which is acceptable to me provided that it comes back off pronto.