We Took it to Go

“Titus, where the hell has your blog gone the past month?” I’ve been asked this more than once and I appreciate that people cared enough to wonder where my pithy reviews had gone. In truth, though for only decent reasons other than needing a break, teaching six classes and then winding them down with finals will tuck away things like blogs. Just as well, I started my summer class at Harper right after ending my summer semester. If I didn’t feel busy enough, I returned to my re-writes of the seventh draft of my novel, The Forest of Silver Leaves. Words cannot say how proud I am of this draft meant for agent and publisher submissions. Wait, yes I can – the proof is hopefully in the prose.

Today marks the beginning of the next 90 days of what we in the Midwest praise as a sanguine time of grill outs, music under the stars and sunburns so vivid we feel them for days. For all of the ‘beginning of summer’ that was declared with Memorial Day, Ally and I took a riverboat cruise and a dinner at Carson’s Ribs in Chicago.

I am sure the Chicago Architectural Foundation wants me to buy stock in them for all of the student’s I had sent to them over the years of teaching college Humanities courses. With a few dollars socked away, Ally and I decided to take an architectural cruise of the Chicago River on the Sunday before Memorial Day. Hot is word reserved for days like that, with temps resting at 95 in pure sunshine and humidity that has the sweat on your back forming its own beads of perspiration in 100 plus heat indexes. We armed our pale skin with SPF strong enough to deflect solar flares and headed down by my air conditioned car to downtown Chicago. We didn’t wish to play the fools game of crowding on a late Metra train with overflowing riders. Though I am not claustrophobic, I shall never forget the time I had a fat man’s belly sweat rub all over my forearm at a Metra platform after the Taste of Chicago. A taste, mind you, that I nearly spewed up after that incident. 

The river tours are not cheap as they start at $40 a pop, tax included. I wished I had better read the directions for Ally and I showed up at the Chicago Architectural Foundation, only to be told we had 15 minutes to walk up to Michigan and Wacker and make that boat. Like a fool, the lady reminded me that we were the last to grab our tickets. With luck on our side, a few others waited to get on the boat to cruise in the bright sunshine on the top deck or sit around an air conditioned lower deck and see half of that view through Plexiglas. Tours on charming, yet polluted waters with pillars of architectural gods like this remind you why Chicago is one of the most photogenic cities in the Western hemisphere. I’ve included a few photos below of the journey on the eastern branch and at least a mile north and south on the Chicago River. You know as well that the history geek in me nodded to Ally each time I knew a bit of the cultural legends. Her version is likely that of her annoying ass boyfriend proving that he knows enough to take over the microphone for the guide with the straw hat and copa-cabana shirt at the front of the sun deck.

After getting some serious re-hydrating in once we hit dry land, we practically dragged our perspired bodies over to Michigan, left on Ohio and a slight left onto north Wells in River North to Carson’s Ribs. Thank god for LivingSocial coupons for that visit, soon to expire, guaranteed us thirty dollars, which the waiter subsequently forgot about when the bill came later. 

Carson’s opened in 1977 and within a few years became one of the quintessential rib joints in Chicago, specializing in the baby back rib, which Chicago is known for, unlike St Louis or Memphis which have their own rib styles as well. Without the overhanging Carson’s sign, you would think the white brick and stone building was better served as a rust belt factory gone south or a handout for Chicago wise guys. The dim interior within manages to highlight with carefully placed dome lights in the ceiling leather chairs, a fine double-sided fireplace and plenty of TV’s playing Chicago’s favorite – our sports teams. Ally didn’t waste time on the menu with anything else but ribs, though I rankled Ally out of a God’s honest truth damn fine looking prime rib. 

The gleam of child-like giddiness was in our eyes once the waiter’s placed bibs on our mouth, this fine meal then becoming an excuse to get down and dirty with our food. My Mom will be the first to recall her oldest boy at the high chair when I got more of the pork chop on me than in my mouth. Yeah, aside from my eating habits at my parent’s house last weekend, when you gotta be a slob, expect those wet naps later on. 

Ally ordered the half-slab and I, foolishly, ordered the full slab. In the appetizer, we ordered the crab cake…which is singular, much to our disappointment for $13 dollars. Despite the sole ball of crab cake, this combination of large, fresh crab meat pieces tied together with smaller bits, egg wash and bread crumbs were a true delight. Washed down with much needed water, I punished my parched liver on that hot day with a beer from my new favorite micro-brew, Two Brothers. The ribs, slathered in a Kansas City style BBQ sauce, are not fall of the bone. The waiters and the menu make a special point of mentioning Carson’s go against the grain. This required some extra work, though quite delicious work at the grilled ribs. There are better rib joints out there, certainly. Albeit, a dinner with a great side of spinach tossed in garlic and wine next to a dish of potatoes au gratin was worth the effort to wade through steamy Chicago streets. 

I grew up with Carson’s commercials promising “take it to go, take it to go. Tangy…mouthwatering!” Looking down at the remaining half slab of ribs that I just knew would be futile to complete, I asked the waiter “I’m gonna have to do what your commercial says.” “What does our commercial say?” the waiter asked, confused. “Did you grow up in Chicago?” “No, St Louis.” “Oh,” I said, a local reference lost. “Just take it to go.”