The long awaited weekend report.

I hope you’ve been enjoying your weekend.  But that’s highly unlikely since I know you’ve been sitting, staring at your computer screen, and refreshing my blog homepage every ten seconds in anticipation of a report of what Brooke and I ate this weekend.  My apologies fro monopolizing your time.  It’s here, in all of its glory.  The full report.

It all began at Portillo’s.  We both successfully navigated public transportation to meet there.  I stood outside for a little bit to wait for her, and while I stood there, a couple came up to me with their daughter and asked me if I was from there.  Here’s how that went down:

Woman: Are you from here?

Me: (internal conflict of how to answer that question since I don’t really live downtown and I’m technically from Minnesota) Well… I live here!

Man/Woman (can’t remember who actually said it): Do you know of any good places to eat around here?

Me: (first thought is, wow you must not have looked around you at all or understand that Chicago is chock-full of amazing cuisine) *point upwards at the Portillo’s sign I’m standing underneath* Here.

Man/Woman: Isn’t this fast food?

Then we have a clarifying conversation about how, no, Portillo’s is amazing real food, but they were actually hoping for Chicago style pizza. (who isn’t?) Just so happens that I know that Gino’s East is right down the street a couple blocks, so I get to point them in that direction.

I felt like a legitimate Chicagoan as I directed them towards delicious food.

Then I spotted my sister, waving to me across the crosswalk, and after some hugging and happiness at our reunion, I directed her into Portillo’s for some delicious pasta and a cake shake.  (cake shake is pictured.)

The rest of the evening consisted of plenty of walking to Target, some shopping for needed things, and sleeping in my little dorm room – that actually isn’t that little and easily fit a twin mattress on the floor.

Saturday morning, the menu consisted of a latte for me, a cappuccino for Brooke, and halvsies for the A Bon Pumpkin and Na Na Na crêpes at the internationally renowned Beijo de Chocolat.  (plus, when you order a medium drink there, you get a free donut…)

Then Mel joined us, and we went downtown.

Even though they make an announcement telling you that you can’t eat on the L, we ate our donuts because we are foodie rebels.

And when we got downtown, we went to Navy PIer.

But we obviously hadn’t eaten enough, because the intense chair swing ride made us all nauseous.  So that called for a snack, which lead us to Water Tower Place.

It ended up looking a lot less like a snack and a lot more like lunch.

 

Then we shopped and walked and shopped and walked and headed to Wrigleyville for dinner.  And there isn’t any photographic evidence of dinner, unfortunately, but it was delicious and very good Italian at Fornello Trattoria.  (Rachael Ray recommended!  And Ashley recommended!)

Dinkel’s closes at 5pm on Saturdays, apparently.  So frosting shots didn’t happen.  But we decided to go to Dunkin Donuts and Jaafer Sweets for hot chocolate and baklava instead.

 

It was a beautiful ending to a lovely day full of public transportation and walking and fun.

The only appropriate way to end such a lovely visit is with cake.  I consider my church to be like cake, actually, so that was the first rich, sweet, and filling experience we had.  We talked more (we talked basically all weekend, naturally, making up for lost time) over Potbelly sandwiches, and then we headed down the street in Lincoln Square to Selmarie, where the best red velvet cake in the world lives.

We sat on the edge of a dry fountain in the sun and ate it.

I’m full now.  Not physically since I’m never done eating – it’s a fast metabolism phase… I’m sure it’ll wear off eventually.  I’m just full.  Full of memories, full of good conversation, full of things to laugh at over again, full of Jesus since we seek Him together, and full of joy. I’m just full.

And it was a lovely weekend.  We’re going to do it again soon, next time I’ll be the traveling one.

 

 

 

 

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