Saturday at the Opera

I had seen the look one time before. The forced smile could not cover the reality of the distaste for the opera. I thought I had learned from when I took my first wife, Kim, to Carmen in Seattle. This time Donna and I together chose the operas we would see at the Lyric in Chicago. The familiar Shakespearean tale of Macbeth by Verdi seemed a safe introduction. Before I entered her life, neither the symphony nor theater were part of Donna’s experience. Now she enjoys both – albeit with some qualifications on the symphony. The combination of symphony and theater held the false promise of combining the best of both.

I partly blame Chicago. That which makes it a great city is also what can make it unpleasant. Something is always going on in the City of Broad Shoulders. Saturday the Blackhawks raised the Stanley Cup banner and opened their home season, a country music festival took place at Millennium Park, and people were gathering for Sunday’s marathon. The Lyric’s Macbeth was just another of the multitude of events taking place. We allowed an hour to get from the northwest suburbs to the restaurant, twice the time it takes without traffic. Experience taught us Saturday evening traffic can be heavy, but with our I-Pass we would avoid the toll plazas and should be downtown with time to spare. Instead it took thirty-five minutes just to get to O’Hare and there the signs showed another 67 minutes travel time to the Loop. Amazingly once we canceled dinner reservations and got off the highway, traffic eased and we foolishly thought we might even be able to eat before the 7:30 curtain. By the time we parked and walked to the Lyric it was 7:00. Having never been to the Lyric and knowing there is no late seating, we went in, and contributed to what must be a primary profit center – wine and snack sales.

May I suggest to the Lyric when asked how to get to the first balcony, they not say go around the corner and go up the stairs to the fourth floor? Yes, the first – not the second – balcony is at least four floors up from the stage. Even with our binoculars, er, opera glasses, the faces on the stage were nearly impossible to see. By opera standards, these were not even the nose bleed seats! Somehow the acoustics were excellent even though our backs were against the wall. We are first time subscribers and these are the seats they gave us to encourage subscription renewal? Remember how I qualified Donna’s enjoyment of the symphony? Mahler and Schoenberg, for example, are definitely out. Well, Verdi can be added to the list.

I may generally be clueless, but I can learn. At Carmen, I took Kim’s assessment of “fine” to mean she would be willing to stay to the conclusion. At Macbeth, I took Donna’s “fine” to be the cue to get the heck out of Dodge. We left at the intermission. The night was not a complete loss. I enjoyed the music. Donna enjoyed the people watching. We also had an enjoyable dinner at P. F. Chang’s.

Anyone want tickets to Lohengrin?

Hot Do(u)gs

I noticed Hot Doug's is closed through August 24 for vacation. Those of you outside of the Chicago area may ask why it is notable that a smallish, out of the way, hot dog stand is closed for a couple of weeks. To understand, you have to know the best hot dogs in the world are in Chicago. Forget Coney Island, New York, the arguments center around which stand in Chicago. I am not fond of Chicago-style dogs and regularly violate the cardinal rule of Chicago hot dogs by eating them with ketchup. That said, I am a fan of Gene & Jude's, where ketchup is not available and customers are thrown out if they bring it in. Yes, I am confined to eating in the parking lot and I hope this confessional does not put that at risk. I also enjoy the hot dogs and ambiance of Superdawg Drive-In even if Playboy's Girls Next Door are not there. Years ago when I first visited Chicago with my best friend, we ate at Gold Coast, yes, the hot dogs were so good I remember the place from more than thirty years ago. Nonetheless, they all fail in comparison to Hot Doug's.

In her last visit to Chicago, my daughter made me take her to Hot Doug's even though it meant driving past Gene & Jude's and Superdawg. We ended up waiting in line for 2 hours, 20 minutes for hot dogs! No one in line complained - neither the locals nor those who traveled from out of state just to eat there. Simply put we had the best hot dogs of our lives. We each ate two. I ate:
1) The Elvis Polish Sausage: Smoked and savory - just like the King;
and
2) The Marty Allen (formerly the Don Rickles) Thuringer: Hello der beef, pork and garlic.


Chelsea's selections were more exotic. She ate:
1) Hot Doug's BLT: Bacon Sausage with Avocado Mayonnaise, Iceberg Lettuce, Cherry Tomatoes and Hickory-Smoked Sweet Swiss Cheese;
and
2) The Thomas McKean (Celebrity Sausage for the day): Cherry and Apple Pork Sausage with Sweet Curry Mustard, Cocoa Cardona Cheese and Vodka-Infused Dried Fruit.

The fries look greasy, but they were fried in duck fat and were crisp. They did not even leave a hint of a grease stain.

Enjoy your vacation Hot Doug, you will be missed.

Among the Beautiful People

Thursday evening after work, I went with two colleagues to Javier’s Cantina and Grill at Crystal Grove in Newport Beach, California (http://javiers-cantina.com/). I am not saying I am cheap, but I am not one to spend four dollars for valet parking when there is free parking forty feet away. Biologists say cars are inanimate, yet I sensed my rental Toyota Corolla would feel inadequate if they positioned it next to the Phantom Drophead Coupé in the valet parking. The maitre d' pleasantly surprised me by allowing us to eat at the restaurant. I am sure I had nothing to do with our getting in. Perhaps he heard the hint of European accent in Sandy’s voice. Maybe the much younger Megan was sufficiently hip, in an Illinois way. Regardless, he chose to seat us instead of directing us to Taco Bell. Thankfully I did not blind anyone with the sun reflecting off my milky pale skin. Yes, I had on a long sleeved shirt, but if I sat at a different angle my balding head could be dangerous. I did not see a sign posted with the dress code but I am confident my party was the only one in which no one had plastic surgery. I suspect Javier’s selected us for an outreach program to those less fortunate in the community. The food was good and the atmosphere was relaxing, in an awkward way. As for the other clientele, at least physically, some of the beautiful people really are beautiful.

A nice night out

Donna and I ate at Peggy Kinnane's Irish Restaurant and Pub last night. I realize it has been a quarter century since I went to school in Ireland, but the only thing vaguely Irish about the restaurant were the fake newspapers in Gaelic. That is not necessarily a bad thing. For an appetizer, we had a basket o' rings. Thankfully they were not fried in lard as is the custom in Ireland. My American digestive system far prefers vegetable oil to lard. Our entrees were both salads. Ahi tuna on spinach with sesame oil dressing and a Cobb for Donna. Neither qualifies as Irish. The one time I saved money to eat at the Great Southern in Galway and ordered a green salad I was shocked to find out in Ireland that does not include lettuce or spinach. I do not remember of what it was composed but I can only think it was something like the lime Jell-O salad that always seemed to show up in Midwestern picnics. Despite, or perhaps because of, the lack of authenticity, dinner was superb.

After dinner we went across the street to Metropolis, a small community theater in Arlington Heights. We were a little anxious as roughly a quarter of the seats were not filled and this was the last performance. There was no reason to be anxious. Mid-Life!, The Crisis Musical, was entertaining and worth the ticket price. The show was performed by six regional actors; three women and three men. In a series of musical vignettes they went through the various aspects of middle age. Most were humorous and one, in particular, about the decline and care of parents, was poignant. The acting was good, singing good to excellent, and the changing displays on the flat screen monitors added to the production. A pit orchestra would have been nice, but the pianist did a decent job. Yes, a patron in front of me was wearing plaid shorts, referenced in one of the early numbers, so I did not feel too bad during the solo about a lost love - hair. It was not Broadway, but it was good entertainment and we will attend future Metropolis productions.

Foodie’s Secret - Addendum

S. Pellegrino's annual "World's 50 Best Restaurants" list was released yesterday. I noticed Chicago, New York and even Yountville, California among the eight restaurants on the list of those located in the United States. Surely it must have been an oversight for none of Wichita’s “unique and gourmet restaurants” to be included!


Reference: http://www.cnn.com/2010/LIVING/04/27/fifty.best.restaurants/index.html