This weekend I planned to return home to Cincinnati for some much-needed time with family and besties. Alas, this wonderful winter has decided I should stay put, so, if I must stay in Chicago, I will take advantage!!
Last Friday I was able to get to the Art Institute of Chicago (AIC) and check out the Christopher Wool exhibit, which was amazing. Andrew and I are members of the AIC so I partake in some art whenever I can, but today I wanted something slightly different. Solution: the Museum for Contemporary Art (MCA). I purchase my brand new Ventra card, hop on the Red line and head to River North.
As I pass the Chicago Fire Department's Engine 98, and approach the MCA, a giant head greets me. Literally a 20-foot tall head installed at the base of the front steps, The Character and Shape of Illuminated Things by Amanda Ross-Ho offers the first glimpse of the what's in store inside. Today the main exhibit is The Way of the Shovel, cleverly advertised amidst a sidewalk full of snow, with shoveled walkways that look almost manicured. I bound up the steps, and almost meet my maker after slipping on the wet floor inside the revolving door. Yes, that takes a special talent.
After paying the trifling $12 adult admission (Attendant: are you a teacher or student? Me: well I teach Pilates, but I don't think that's what you mean. Attendant: ...crickets... Seriously?! Nothing?! Come on, dude...), I head over to the complementary coat check and ditch my coat, gloves, hat, ear muffs, scarf...the list goes on. The prominent sign that says "no tips" and describes why this is a service they choose to offer only makes me want to tip them more. Respecting their wishes, I head to my first exhibit, William J. O'Brien.
Full of colored pencil and glitter, this exhibit is overrun with junior high groups and tour guides, so while full of brilliant color, I pass quickly through the complex drawings, paintings and sculptures. Though, I overhear and appreciate the guide's comparisons to the imperfect clay works the students may have made as children, and the artist's decision to include similar pieces in his exhibit.
The City Self exhibit enthralls me. It is the one exhibit I will recommend to my husband. I have a soft spot for my adopted city and all the beautiful things she has to offer, and so when I see her in print I am mesmerized. The mix of photography, paintings, sketches and other mediums from various artists offers an intimate view of Chicago, and the feeling that you are seeing the most secret and best the city has to offer.
I breeze through the rest of the exhibits; much as I like to consider myself cultured, I like to look, not read, when I'm at a museum, so I don't have much patience for exhibits that require explanation. Finally though, no visit to the MCA is complete without a stop in their two story museum shop. Quirky cards, books and trinkets, jewelry, housewares, stuffed animals, every modern thing you could possibly want. Though the winding staircase has been known to disorient me, few places entertain me so completely as the MCA shop.
My desire for culture satiated, I head south on Michigan Avenue. A plethora of uniformed officers mill about, and I wonder fleetingly about the Mag Mile muggings I've read about in the last few months. Fortunately on such a cold day, crowds are small - only the most desperate or bored are crazy enough to be shopping on Michigan today.
I don't make the trip to Michigan Ave often (I have a well-known dislike of crowds), so I make a quick stop at Nordstrom. In search of comfy AND cute sandals, I leave disappointed, and head to Room and Board to scout out an entry table. While very attractive and fitting for our space, the small table we've been eyeing online offends my (occasional) frugality, so I move on. Luckily for me, while window shopping at R&B, I spot a shopper carrying an Eataly paper bag. Light bulb!! Andrew has little interest in such a place, but since I'm by myself on a weekday, crowds are likely to be manageable. As an added benefit, I'm starving! Lunch is planned.
Inside it's bustling. I'm greeted by a very tall man with a huge smile, who asks me if I've ever been to Eataly. He informs me that I've just found my new home, and hands me a map. The first floor is a maze of cafe-style shops, and beautiful, fun housewares. I'm still starving so I head upstairs and am overwhelmed by the sheer size of what confronts me. People everywhere, I see counters filled with salamis, cheeses, pastas; mid-aisle stands offer me every Italian delight I could hope for. I turn around, and see the enormous wine section, followed by angels singing!
I wander a bit, trying to get a feel for the etiquette. It's overwhelming, really, and though there are a number of individual restaurants at hand, it is not clear which tables belong to which restaurant, and nothing to tell you if you should seat yourself or wait for a host/ess. I'm on a healthier eating kick, so I grab a bar seat at La Verdure.
The prosecco I start with is a generous pour, the bubbles immediately making me happy and giggly. I order the farratto, and it is truly amazing. The risotto style preparation is creamy and delicious, and the butternut squash makes the dish decadent. I devour every last bit of it. The service is a little slow, so it takes about 10-15 more minutes to get my check and pay.
I make a bee line for the wine section, and spend about 20 minutes perusing before I make my selections. The counter selling fresh pasta is too tempting to pass up, so I purchase several bundles of spinach and squid ink pasta. A few counters, and a hundred dollars, later, I'm on my way to the Red Line, giddy with my purchases, and reminded of why I love Chicago.
