Da Bears and Eleven City Diner

A true football fan knows how to prep their spirit with adrenaline and stomach with hearty eats. This much was evident with Ally and me as we were fortunate enough to have her father pass along two tickets at Soldier Field in the 10^th row of the 300 level (north end zone) to see the Chicago Bears take on the Washington Redskins in a preseason battle. Anyone who knows me will recall how I was tuned in to this season for the Bears since the heartbreak of losing a promising season with the injuries of Jay Cutler and Matt Forte. Trading up for a number one wide out in Brandon Marshall was a huge step, along with other puzzle pieces players like Eric Weems. The NFL draft was an occasion that I studied for weeks prior to the April 26^th announcements done at Radio City Music Hall in New York. Ally was kind enough to record the entire draft as I had a night class that ran until 9:45. Hands balled up in my lap, my eyes not blinking, I and countless other Bears fans waited to hear “in the 19^th pick of the 1^st round the Chicago Bears pick Shea McClellin, Defensive End, Boise State.” Our first reaction was “Who?”

Patience is needed for greatness and Chicago fans of any sport have waited far too long. These players would make their mark straight away, gradually build talent or fail to keep up with the literal big boys. The same goes for basketball and baseball seeing as these are epitomes of capitalistic sports, there are winners and there are losers, with much more of the latter. I knew I would annoy Ally, as I did, with pointing out the players from Julius Peppers, to McClellin, to 2^nd round draftee Wide Receiver Alshon Jeffery. My mind had to be in the right place in order to enjoy the whole experience. I did that by arriving downtown early and sitting down at the lunch counter of Eleven City Diner at 1112 South Wabash. 

The south loop has changed in significant ways since I left my undergraduate alma matter Columbia College in 2003. In nine years abandoned buildings have been retrofitted, skyscrapers holding luxury condos have risen, but most to my annoyance there are Caribou coffee houses and dozens of new restaurants that never existed in my days at Columbia. At a month shy of thirty-one, I have become that old man, shaking a fist at the hipsters and art students of Columbia by declaring, “You don’t know how good you have it!” 

A smart addition to the south loop, just south of the 1104 south Wabash film building for Columbia College (a building constructed in 1891 by father of skyscrapers William LeBarron Jenny) and a half block north of Roosevelt Road is the NYC Jewish delicatessen inspired Eleven City Diner. Friends of mine have been quite taken with their lunch counter style atmosphere, hearty deli sandwiches,  and the option of breakfast all day which far too many places fail to pull off once noon rolls by. Ally ordered the corned beef and pastrami hash with scrambled eggs. The trimmings of salted meats were pressed into a potato pancake style and served with a layer of eggs on top and out of the world good mandolin sliced potato hash. Feeling in a lunch state of mind, I devoured their “Springer” served on rye bread with piled trimmings of corned beef and pastrami, topped off with Swiss cheese and thousand-island dressing. No bite of the sandwich is complete without a line of Gludens spicy brown mustard. Bears fans alike were enjoying the pre-game chow down throughout Eleven City Diner as should you if you find yourself in the south loop. 

Since Soldier Field underwent much needed major renovations to update the lake shore stadium in 2003 fans have been split with embracing the “Stadium in a Park” or casting a suspicious eye and wondering why an oval, stainless steel space ship has landed in the old Soldier Field. Though in some departments there could be improvements, the overpriced food being one of them, the ambiance of the original neo-classical double-wide columns and the breathtaking views of downtown Chicago and Lake Michigan are what make the stadium. Many argue most stadium food is overpriced, as they should, but I find it a brutal reality when the minimum beer price is $9 dollars that if Ally and I didn’t obtain these tickets as a gift, there is no way an average, lower middle class American such as us could enjoy their beloved Chicago Bears. 

Jumbotrons fired up the crowd with nostalgic images of the iconic club as the Bears players took to the field, a roar each time for our superstars in Devin Hester, Matt Forte, Brandon Marshall and Jay Cutler. Taking possession first on the successful coin toss, the Bears wasted no time as QB Cutler through a 41 yard pass to old friend and teammate from Denver Brandon Marshall. On that play drive, as well as the next, the Bears capitalized a down-field push for good yardage with great catches from rookie Alshon Jeffery, Hester, Marshall and pounding runs into the end zone from our top notch number-two running back Michael Bush. Leaning forward I made sure to watch the stoppage power of our defense in DE legend Julius Peppers, the brilliant sack and tackle performance of Israel Idonije, and top draft pick Shea McClellin. I even scouted out the Redskins quarterback Robert Griffin III, the second pick in the first round, a Heisman Trophy winner and already an advertising presence in the mass market of athletic shoes. All fans of orange and blue, as well as the collection of Redskins fans held their breath for injured players on both sides with Skins Brian Orakpo and Bears players Chris Conte and rookie safety Brandon Hardin whose neck compressed with a bad, head first tackle into the gut of a Redskins tight end. Even in preseason it’s not hard to see why the players want to make as much money as they can in this blood sport.

We had left the stadium with thousands of others, thinking the Bears 3^rd string defense could hold the Redskins. Far too much faith in the team that has since my childhood kept me on the edge of my seat resulted in the Bears blowing their decent lead of 27-17 to be losing in the final minutes of the fourth quarter 31-30. 4^th string quarterback Matt Blanchard (a Lake County Illinois native) led a drive for the Bears in the final two minutes down to deep field goal territory. Nothing-but-consistent kicker Robbie Gold smashed his previous distance record with a 57 yard field goal to seal the game 33-31.  

Walking back to our car on 600 south Wabash hand-in-hand, Ally and I admired the lit up architecture of this beautiful city. Fireworks exploding over Navy Pier and DuSable Harbor sealed the night as we smiled at the Blue Cross building at the north edge of Millennium Park, the windows spelling out ‘GO BEARS!”

 http://www.elevencitydiner.com/

Texas de Brazil

America food culture since World War II has more often than not become a culture of gluttony. Perhaps this was an unseen effect of the rationing of the Depression and War with citizens and companies alike realizing the abundance of what the American farm could produce. Fast forward to 2012 and our consumption, food and consumer culture alike, is amongst the greatest in the world, resulting in warped perceptions of meals (fast food) and an ever expanding waste line that is kept in play not by a healthy diet and exercise but my a largely unregulated pharmaceutical industry. 

Yet, to embrace a large meal, one must look past anti-consumer culture advocates and realize that many cultures throughout the continents celebrate a special occasion with a grandiose meal. Comedian Jim Gaffigan said Thanksgiving seems pointless at times because it is a holiday where “we eat and drink to excess…don’t we do that every day?” Savor the fine times when you do, choose quality ingredients, a pleasurable dining experience, and plenty of water ahead of time to flush out that system in preparation of a food utopia. My friend Nick and I have thus christened those once or twice a year visits to a Brazilian steakhouse called Texas de Brazil as “Fat Fests”

I ate little on Tuesday in preparation for the meal at the Texas de Brazil location in Schaumburg, Illinois, located in Woodfield Mall. The occasion was for my Ally’s twenty-fifth birthday. Texas de Brazil rewards return customers to cash in, as we did, with buy one-get-one meals for birthdays and anniversaries, cutting a hundred dollar meal for two in half. Be kind and tip the extraordinary service by gauchos and waiters for in my five visits to Texas de Brazil (Schaumburg and the larger Chicago location) I hadn’t been wanting for much for long before the waiter brought what I needed by for a requested meat or glass of water with speed and professionalism. 

The gauchos patrol the restaurant, which to me looks like the interior of the Nautilus from 20,000 Leagues under the Sea. In their hands they hold over two foot long skewers of small portions of filet mignon, Parmesan chicken, beef ribs and Brazilian sausage which are dropped onto your plate by your request after they notice your token next to your plate has been flipped from red to green. On other delectable meats such as flank steak, leg of lamb, and the house special picanha you use small tongs to hold the meat in place as the gaucho slices it off for you to have a non-messy transfer to the plate. In truth, no good steak should need sauce, ketchup or a vinegar dip to supply unless it is made that way. Texas de Brazil’s meats are brimming with flavor in and out from hours of marinating and then cooking to medium rare (or other choice specifications of the customer) on the same skewers the gauchos serve. My one complaint is that I can tell the marinades for some of the meats have salt, which is then added to in the cooking process with more salt, thus at times producing meat that is over salted but still tasty. 

 Adding to my eyes-rolling-in-delight over the flank steak, beef ribs and bacon wrapped filet slices, a visit to Texas de Brazil without a stop or two or three to the salad bar is tragic. A salad bar at a restaurant tends to evoke images of mediocre assemblages of leafy greens. At Texas de Brazil, depending on size of location, will have an abundance of vegetables for salad and individual consumption (grease that chute people), Europeans cheeses and my all time favorite soup – the lobster bisque. Creamy, smooth, tangy and brimming with that buttery puree of lobster flavors, that bisque should be a special menu item to be served with unlimited bounties of cheese and bread. If you manage to find space in that crowded room that becomes your three pound heavier stomach, you won't regret a choice of desserts that range from creme brulee to my favorite, a slice of the bananas foster pie. The dessert is the only menu item that is allowed to be taken home.

Libations are in order at Texas de Brazil as evident by the wine racks that usually take up one of the walls. In Chicago they have a two and half story wine rack that has bottles fetched by a woman spinning on a trapeze. At times an after dinner aperitif such as limoncello is required. Though unlimited the food may be, you are going to thank those chemical components to break down that meat – trust me. 

Abundance is sometimes pleasure, as evident with Texas de Brazil. And as a last piece of advice, if you do not work or lift off that meal and give that protein a place to go, leave your next morning to either be a slow one or a day off – its gonna be a rough ride. 

 http://www.texasdebrazil.com/

Martyrs: A Speed-Fi Production

Tucked into North Lincoln Avenue in Chicago seems to be a pattern of bar/restaurant, abandoned storefront and inventive small business all the way into the forest of skyscrapers downtown. Two blocks south of Irving Park road on 3855 North Lincoln Ave is Martyrs, a gem of the Chicago music scene. The venue, (capacity for about 150 at standing room) crafted from an abandoned old post office in 1994, has had many Chicago musicians pass through its glass doors at one time or another. Playing independent bands and the occasional band on a music label (Black Keys, Pete Townshend) there are fresh surprises, rockin’ good nights up to the midnight hour and the occasional clunker of group/artist that is missing the right pieces or has a few screws loose. I still bite my tongue to not swear in frustration at missing out on the show Death Cab for Cutie played at Martyrs years back. 

Though I can’t remember my first visit, I know I’ve been coming to Martyrs since before I left for Ireland over six years ago. Arranged in a long rectangular fashion, Martyrs has a long bar (with a decent range of beers and ciders) at one corner and stage large enough for a twelve piece band taking precedence a few feet above the open floor and tables. The lighting is so dim for shows past nine you have to read the limited menu by tea lights at the table. When the artist performing plays with a soulful tune or an electric anthem, the crowd drops their conversations to a whisper or ceases to utter a sound, save for a sip of their beer, for their respect of the men and women on stage. Affordable enough, the Speed-Fi Productions show I saw last night was $7 dollars ahead of time, $10 at the door. 

Speed-Fi Productions is the creation of my old friend Mike Przygoda. After years of being a Renaissance man of music with writing, recording, producing, conducting and performing, he decided to make a small label named Speed-Fi with longtime friend and engineer on many of his albums, Steve Jansen. Having a true ear for “this note up, that harmony tighter” Mike also has an eye for keeping up working and personal friendships with some of the most talented musicians in Chicago, many of which played last night on August 10^th at Martyrs. Six bands performed from 9pm to well after I left Martyrs at fifteen minutes to midnight. Of those five that I has seen, let me elaborate in order of appearance. 

Mike Biederman – Having met the warm personality of Mike a few times and seeing him perform with REGO, I had no idea how soulful and echoed his voice could be. His five song set reminded me of a solo version of that Kentucky band My Morning Jacket’s haunting song Where to Begin. Whether accompanied on either side by fellow performers that night or taking solo to the microphone with acoustic guitar and harmonica, Mike Biederman and his songs from his album The Great Circle Track is one of those pleasant surprises. 

Nick Gutierrez – I’ve been watching Nick perform with Mike Przygoda for over five years in their former groups of The Cynics and The Pawns. Those fingers gliding across the keyboard, his voice is one made for rock and roll and church choirs, many of whom know him from Sunday worship came to visit him at Martyrs last night. A great musician and an even nicer guy, Nick’s ability to rock your socks off was none the more evident than with the Beatles cover of I Want You (She’s So Heavy) that he and his band closed his set with. Though previous to find him pen a tune, you can know enjoy his EP entitled On the Mend. 

Diana Lawrence – Plain and simple if you have never heard Diana solo or with her band Diana and the Dishes you are missing out on being blessed by a rare voice and songwriting talent. The audience welcomed Diana and her two bluegrass voiced angels onto the stage and off the stage for great selections of Appalachian tunes and mix of rock that is Ms Lawrence’s own. At times her voice reminded me of that bluegrass legend Allison Krauss. Mike Przygoda has worked with Diana for years, producing her recent EP To: Aging Children. Purchasing a copy, I witnessed Diana’s unique personal touches on a slip cover that resembles a white paper package in the mail, each with a letter on her exploration of coming-of-age tales being molded into songs. She even invites her listeners to write her back via a P.O. Box with stories that could help her craft that Aging Children EP into a full album. These letters are why artists work until 1am, cry over their keyboards and laptops, and flash brilliant smiles as Diana did at Martyrs with knowledge of their success – they realize is no dividing line between art and life. 

Gus Stagg:  Knowing Mike well, I could tell he could see much of Steve Goodman and Bob Dylan in Gus Stagg’s selection from his album, New Songs for Old Souls. The crowd didn’t give Gus as much attention as he deserved. Perhaps they weren’t ready for a great cover of Dylan’s Subterranean Homesick Blues. I know the fools I passed by on the way to the bar were not as they said to one another “Man, this guy is too slow…I like the dubstep they played in-between the songs.” Take your hipster hat, perfectly arranged sloppy tie and shirt with four days of manicured stubble and get – people like Gus deserve better. Martrys playfully described him on their webpage with this nugget: He is “basically an old hippie who somehow survived the sixties...got off the Magical Mystery Tour, and is currently ripening. "’Pick me before I rot, please.’"

 Mike Przygoda – Assembling a talented backing band, Mike belted out tunes in a Dylan-esque perhaps even Billy Corgan-like (the good tunes) from his new album All my Heroes are Gone. Whether Mike plays a killer electric guitar while Nick Gutierrez sings the track I Dream of You or Mike injects his unflappable mix of satire and light cynicism with a song called Your Boyfriend is a Hick, the man puts on a great show. Steve Jansen and others spoke with wonder of “how Mike does it all sometimes.” Maybe it is because of his lack of sleep. I’d like to think that creative curiosity will only cease when he chooses too, which like any true artist is not often. 

You can see these artists further described on the Martyrs webpage:

http://www.martyrslive.com/fri-aug-10-9pm-10

One man, one city, two teams

I am not a believer that one can be a fan merely of one team in the city while unjustly, other than for cruel, snobbish behavior, consider the other team a vile slime that is a blight upon their fair metropolis. In baseball Los Angeles, New York and the Bay Area in San Francisco have the same argument as fans do in Chicago with the Cubs and White Sox. 

The first team I ever connected with was the Chicago Cubs. I remember as far back as four years old collecting baseball cards of legends such as Ryne Sandberg and Andre Dawson. The clichés of those grilling hot dogs alongside onions and the fresh air that permeates into an open air stadium are all true, just overdone. I adore ‘America’s game’ as I love my nearby Chicago, voted in many polls throughout the years (Sporting News 2006 for example) as America’s best sporting city. Yet, I see differences in the make-up of a Cubs and White Sox fan. Stereotypes at times are said to be based on truth and in some circumstances here Wrigley Field is more of a party field with tourists (at times, at least 20% of all ticket sales) and U.S Cellular Field has a corporate image in a blue-collar environment. In my household, I cannot use those easy go-to stabs. My girlfriend is a White Sox fan.

On our way down to a 6:10pm game last night, the sky turned from ashy to bleak; literal day to night as streetlamps and skyscrapers lit up. Trapped on our journey to the south side on route 94 with thousands of other cars, the torrential downpour had me thinking for a few bumper to bumper moments that we were like those sorry saps washed away in a CGI torrent in any disaster movie. It is said that getting to ‘the Cell’ is easier than Wrigley Field but any native knows that traffic is Chicago is no cake walk, especially when the 100,000 strong crowed in Grant Park for Lollapalooza is being evacuated ahead of the storm. 

By the time we walked up the many levels of U.S Cellular Field to the 500 section (cheap tickets, folks) the rain had reduced to a drizzle. All that time waiting for the game to start in the midst of the rain delay, I took the time to appreciate how I have to admit the concessions at ‘the Cell’ are far better than at Wrigley Field, which at times has been downright disgusting at 1060 West Addison. I’ve consumed a pint of Old Style more than I should there, making me appreciate the stands with incredible ranges of micro-brews, large tasty labels (Heineken), and a Leinenkugal’s stand that offers seven types of mixed flavors of beers.  Though beer, sugary snack, and hot dog vendors roam the isles of any stadium, there are far less at newer stadiums like ‘the Cell’ or as I still call at times ‘Comiskey Park’ because of the investments they have made in size of section promenades and the better than average food. Being at a ballpark, I got a dog with onions and kraut with extra mustard. Ally and I both bought a delicious Crispin cider, one that is less sweet than Magners yet a step below Strongbow. The kid that I am at times, I bought a mini ice cream helmet. Feeling like a piggy, that feeling soon faded when I saw a line of White Sox fans, each of them cradled a full size MLB helmet full of nachos and fixins – not sure if they are glutonus pigs or are sharing another American pastime (with baseball) of over eating.   

I do admire a few of the White Sox players, namely hopeful future hall of famer Paul Konerko at first and one of my favorite players in baseball, the former Red Sox 1^st and 3^rd baseman Kevin Youklis. ‘Youk’ as he is affectionately called had a great night of two home runs and three RBI’s wasted with a 6-5 loss to the L.A Angels in 10 innings. The game, which started rough with a less than single A performance in the 1^st inning by pitcher Gavin Floyd, turned out to be a back and forth battle for the three and a half hours it existed.

Bum fans, those ones who exude male frustration from their eye balls and chose of douchebag hair cuts, clothes and their obvious scents of Ed Hardy, proceeded to scream viciously at Angels Albert Pujols, using their best taunts like “you suck!” Yes, that modern legend at 1^st base with his 10 year, 200 million dollar contract just killed this man’s self esteem enough to crush a 400 foot home run to left field. Those lads were matched by what Ally called ‘YOLO duck face party girls’. Arriving late in the 2^nd inning and leaving by the 6^th, these two girls (nope, not ladies) popped and locked to every five second techno beat to pump up the crowd, nearly nailing me with their knobby elbows several times. Be gone wenches – you sully my game.  

I will always be a Cubs fan, but there is no reason I shouldn’t cheer for the White Sox, unless of course they are playing the Cubs.