National Restaurant Show & Two Days in Chicago

One of the Saturdays in early May, I got a text from my friend Thom, asking if Jeff and I could come out and play. Well, not quite like that, but at the very least, the adult equivalent of that. “Hey, we’re out at [place] come drink with us.”  I was elbow deep in cleaning the house (and working through the never-ending hell that is laundry) and said as much. The response back rocked. “We’ll be there in two hours with beer and dinner. You guys like Chinese food?”.  

National Restaurant Show | Two Days in Chicago  

As we dug into the bags of deliciousness from Hong Kong (the Chinese takeout joint down the road from our house) and popped the tops on the first of a whole lot of beers, Thom told me that whatever plans I a had for the following weekend were off, as he and his husband Jose were taking us with them to Chicago, and specifically to the National Restaurant Show. Wait. Say what? 

Getting to go to the NRA (I know, it gave me pause the first few times I heard it abbreviated as well) has been a long time bucket list item for me and I was through the roof with excitement.

Prior to the weekend of the NRA show, my time in Chicago had been real brief. Jeff and I’d spent a couple of days (maybe not quite even that long, if you’re counting the hours themselves) on the tail end of one of the trips we’d made out to visit his family in the Midwest prior to our moving.  That trip, we’d played tourist in a real big way, checking out Navy Pier the first night we were in town, spending the next day at Wrigley Field drinking beer and watching the game. Not a bad way to spend a summer day, but all clearly tourist-y things to do.

This trip, aside from walking through Millennium Park and then along Michigan Ave, was not nearly as tourist-y.

The Palmer House Hotel  

Due to prior obligations, we got on the road to Chicago well before the sunrise on Sunday morning,  I slept most of the drive into Chicago (sleeping in the car is a skill that was instilled into both my brother and I from birth) and woke up when Jeff nudged me, three blocks or so before we pulled up at the Palmer House Hotel around 8 that morning.

The first time that you walk into the lobby at the Palmer House, it will stay with you forever. The lobby, and adjoining bar, are what all other hotel lobby bars strive to be. It’s amazing. Painted ceilings soar overhead, the lighting sconces cast a warm glow over the gilded columns, and the quiet buzz and hum of conversation filled the air. I was in hotel heaven.

Cocktails at the Lobby Bar

Once back at The Palmer, we were told our room was ready, so up we went. The room y’all, it was HUGE. We were at the end of the hall, which meant that we had windows (that opened!) on two full walls, the headboards of our beds were on the same wall, the t.v. facing them, a desk off to the left side, and door to the bathroom beyond that.   

When I say that the room was huge, there was enough open floor space between the ends of the beds and the wall with the tv on it, that there could have easily been two more beds, which meant that there was plenty of room for hotel room yoga.

Dinner at Toppolobampo

Wonderful. Amazing. Bucket list meal, fo’ sho’. So much so that I’m not going to go into more detail here, rather that meal will have its own post.

Playing Tourist | Walking Michigan Ave & The Near North Pub Crawl

Due to prior work obligations, Jeff had to head back to Columbus a day earlier than the rest of us, renting a car and driving back Monday midday, which left Thom, Jose, and I in Chicago for an extra night. (Win).

Once we’d finished the show Monday, the three of us headed back to the hotel, again napped, (McCormick pier is HUGE, and we’d been “on” and surrounded by a shit load of energy for two days at that point, and naps were very needed).

We changed clothes and took off walking, camera in hand, playing tourist for a few hours, starting at Millennium Park (hell yes Bean) and continuing down Michigan Ave, window shopping and people watching. Window shopping turned into actual shopping after we got caught in a rainstorm (hell yes Nordstrom Rack), and from there, it was time to drink.

Pippens, The Dublin & Pizza at Lou Malnatis

Pippens Tavern

We’d been walking along Michigan Ave since we left Millennium Park, enjoying the cool day as afternoon faded into evening, and I was meandering along, camera in hand, snapping as I saw something that caught my eye, counting roundly on Thom and Jose to tell me when it was time to turn, as the route that we were on is one that they’ve taken before, and Pippens Tavern was the first stop on our pub crawl.

We’d veered south off of Michigan Ave a few blocks prior as we made our way to the Rack (for the record, one of my all-time favorite stores, and one that Jeff’d prefer that I never go into again) It wasn’t until we left the Rack that I started to ‘loosley’ pay attention to where we were, which is to say, I had no freakin’ clue, and it was AWESOME.

Jose pointed out Pippens to me as we rounded the corner and I was instantly in love. In the midst of skyscrapers of downtown Chicago, there’s this side street, it’s a short block, which was likely an alley when the city was first laid out, and smack in the middle of it sits Pippens.

Standing across the street, looking at this building that has clearly been here since oh, ever,  big time reminiscent of standing on the side streets of Paris, looking at a block that had come together over centuries, and it rocked.

Walking in, the feeling carried through.

Low ceilings, wooden beams, leaded stained glass windows filtered the watery evening light, the jukebox pumped out great tunes, the taps were clean and cold, and it was EVERYTHING that I needed.

Turned out, we walked in at the height of happy hour. The three of us bellied up to the bar and talked story of life, marriage, and what it really means to be married. #adulting

 Dublins Bar & Grill

After we left Pippens, a few deep, we wandered further along, enjoying the break in the weather (fortuitously the same time as sunset). 

Exploring a city that I’ve never been to (who am I kidding, the ones I’ve been to before as well) on foot is one of my all-time favorite ways to spend time. Exploring Chicago on foot with Thom & Jose, it rocked.

I was along for the ride, in the best of ways. I didn’t have to think, plan, coordinate, nada. Heaven. As such, aside from knowing that we were having pizza at Lou Malnotis at the end of the night,  I wasn’t paying much (if any) attention to our pub crawls itinerary.  

So when we walked around the corner and I saw The Dublin, I did a mini happy dance. 

The Dublin, (The Dub) is our pub in Portland (three blocks down the hill from my mom’s, you can crawl home if you needed to. (no, we haven’t.)) Clearly a different Dublin, but the familiarity was very welcome. 

This Dublin, verrrrrrry different than the Dub that I know. White tablecloths, framed photographs, and art on the walls. The Dub back home, well, not nearly as classy, and much more of a place you may well end up weaving home from, arms slung around each other, belting out songs at the top of your lungs. 

The chicken nachos, and The Jameson shots, pretty much the same. 

Pizza at Lou Malnatis

Chicago style deep dish. Holy F*ck.  

The week prior to our Chicagoland road trip I was Staples, picking up the boatload of Cook.Eat.Explore media kits that I ordered to take with and was chatting with Ricky (Yup, I am on a first name basis with the staff at Staples.) about the upcoming road trip and turns out, he’s from Chicago.  

Anytime I’m in a city that I’ve not been to before, my go-to is asking my Uber or Lift drivers where they love to eat. Yelp is all well and good, but I’ll take a locals perspective over that every. single. time.  Chicago style pizza is a thing, right? One that I’d yet to try, and according to Ricky, Lou Malnatis kicks Giordano’s pizza ass.

He was right.

I’d put Lou Malnatis soundly in my top five pizzas of all time ranking. Crust perfection, phenomenally melty mozzarella layered in with spicy pepperoni, all under a bubbly cheese crust, I’m drooling while I write this.

We finished dinner somewhere well after midnight, Uber’d back to The Palmer House, and all fell straight into an exhausted slumber.  The next morning we hit the road back to Columbus, bags loaded into the trunk, radio up, and the windows down, soaking in the fresh air.  

Chicagoland, I can’t wait to come back.