I spent a good part of the night thinking. You know how it is: a full set of hours that fills your heart and mind -- you need to digest it afterwards. Well, too, the fabulous dinner at the Elske in Chicago... Think, process, digest. There's a discussion taking place about whether skillful food preparation can rise to the level of art, or if it is merely there to stimulate your palate and your senses. I think places like Elske care about presentation, but even more so, they care about awakening you to the possibilities of taste. There was a grilled duck breast and sausage dish with dried fruits and fennel that was as simple as possible, yet masterful in getting the most flavor out of this game bird. Absolutely delicious. And it was the kind of dinner I would not have enjoyed alone. You need someone else at the table, so that you can grunt your love or look quizzically at your mates to try to figure out a surprising flavor.
But mostly, I thought about my daughters. I've said this before (and I know I am not unique in having these feelings) -- I think both are so wise and funny, so full of affection, so full of insights and sentimental reflections that I could spend endless hours just listening to them go back and forth over one topic or another. Yesterday I let them guide the night, a dreamy night when we let ourselves go back in time to childhood memories -- and there were many! -- and it struck me how children form such lovely ones based on absolutely nothing significant. The name of a park, a vitamin tablet, a beloved Chinese restaurant on Michigan Avenue, a Chicago cheese store whose name none of us remembers, but which supplied us with a slice of Brie when it was otherwise very hard to find stinky cheeses out here in dairyland USA.
So that was our yesterday, followed by a night at the hotel for my older girl and me, and now I wake up to pretty morning and I look outside and I think -- I lived for a total of maybe ten years in New York and some six years in Chicago and I still find it so strange to see tall apartment buildings so tightly next to each other in these larger cities.
I let my daughter sleep in and I take my bag and slip out for a walk. It's Sunday morning, so the streets are mostly empty. A nice time to be out in the city.
I turn toward the Oak Street beach, because Chicago is so much linked in spirit and in realtime to Lake Michigan.
Nice...
And now I am hungry for a coffee. I catch an Uber ride to my younger girl's home.
Primrose is getting ready to go for her swim lesson, Juniper is getting ready for... play!
My daughter suggests that while her big girl swims, we take the little one for a walk to Floriole bakery. Splendid idea!
More time to talk, to look at that sweet little face...
And now we are in the cafe part of the bakery and yes, the coffee is grand, and the buckwheat scone (for me) delicious as always. Juniper is equally thrilled with her bits of croissant.
Back home again -- fortified and energetic!
(While her older sister, back from her swim lesson, plays "doctor visit" with me)
It's nearly tradition to end a Chicago trip with brunch at Middle Brow. Older daughter is here now too, so we are a group of six.
I love this busy place with its dedicated staff and delicious foods (shakshouka for me!).
If we had such an eatery (or gastropub?) in our farmette neighborhood, would Ed and I make this our place for an occasional brunch? Or is it that I only allow for the idea of brunch when I am with my daughters?
Such a special set of hours!
It's time for us Wisconsinites to drive home. Primrose complains that our visit was too short. We had too little play time. She is correct of course. We had cut our trip by a day (even as not a single snowflake fell in Chicago this whole weekend!). Still, I am full of grand moments, satiated because every hour was so beautiful.
But, too, happy to be home with the big guy who spent his weekend chopping up tree limbs.
Hi Ed, I got you some good bread from Chicago!
with so much love...
