At the outset, let me say that I love this city, and lest there be any question, this is a love story. Yet, as with any relationship, we have our issues to work out, and I’m talking about more than just the weather.
It’s the two sides of this city, that simultaneously irk me and compel me to wallow in its offerings. This city has its upscale and classy outer facade, yet digging deeper you’ll find a decidedly everyman core that drives the city, and appears to be the real heart and resonance of the town.
Lets leap right to the point. I can’t understand how the good people of Chicago can let Monet’s Haystacks exist in the same 30-block circle as the overwrought testament to tourism that is Harry Carry’s Restaurant. Yet there they are across from each other, the river a cultural moat between them.
A day of sightseeing begun at The Art Institute can hardly go awry. You are, however, faced with the danger of uncontrollably spending the day there and missing the remainder of the city. Nevertheless, we’ll begin at this American landmark.
I contend that The Modern Art Collection at The Chicago Art Institute is a thing of beauty and scholarship rarely if ever equaled in the United States. The collection is so complete, diverse and well-presented that even for an art buffoon such as myself it is virtually impossible to emerge unmoved on Michigan Avenue.
Spend as much time as you can in the Museum. Beyond the Modern Collection, the Art Institute has many other, equally represented collections, and it also puts together amazing special exhibits. The current exhibit on Taoism is incredibly dense with information, and it does an excellent job of taking the visitor through centuries of Taoist philosophy/religion and the visual expression of that faith.
A short walk (10 blocks or so) north on Michigan Avenue leads you to The Terra Museum, a much smaller, less publicized, but no less captivating repository of primarily American Art, mixed with regularly rotated special exhibits.
Right next to The Terra is a Chicago landmark. While it is just popcorn, it’s worth sampling the goods at Garrett’s Popcorn. Continue up Michigan Avenue and feast your eyes – or drain your wallet – on one of the country’s most revered shopping strips. From Crate and Barrel and The Disney Store, to North Face and Victoria’s Secret, you’re hard-pressed to want anything that the merchants on this row can’t supply.
Now that we’ve settled your heart and emptied your wallet with museums and the shops of Michigan Avenue, let’s soothe your soul.
Once off Michigan Avenue, the city pirouettes and shows you it’s other side. Just a short walk from Michigan Avenue, The Jazz Record Mart and After-Words Bookstore straddle the same street corner. Decidedly lowbrow in comparison to the new Nordstrom’s and the rest of downtown’s upscale finery, they are in a class by themselves, and are unequaled, at least downtown, in what they do.
The Jazz Record Mart is reportedly the city’s best jazz record store. For my money the service and selection were excellent. Again, I profess no expertise, but I did find everything I could’ve wanted, and left with my pack filled, and my ears were ablaze with the sounds of The Original Mambo Kings.
A quick turn around the corner and downstairs put me outside After-Words, a used bookstore about which I’d heard a great deal. Admittedly I am a bit of a used-bookstore snob and found their selection somewhat hit-or-miss, and a bit haphazard in organization. Yet the space, the service and the sheer volume of the collection are enough to make them worth even a sizable detour.
Good book in-hand and Discman freshly fueled, I desperately needed to fill the other void in my life: my stomach. A block or two around the corner lay Redfish and The VooDoo Lounge.
Redfish has comprised the absolute thesis of my relationship with Chicago: the serviceable and pedestrian counterbalanced by the exquisite. The lunch service is spectacular, in part I believe because the lunch crowd (eating on expense accounts) tips better. Dinner service, at least in the lounge, ranges from fair to catastrophic; I’ve found the chef’s pasta creations to be a bit heavy and cluttered.
Yet through it all, Redfish is one of my favorite stops in Chicago, for one reason alone: the jambalaya is the culinary equivalent of kissing The Prom Queen. It is a warm, saucy, spicy melange, of such depth that most any hardship should be endured to have at least one order in your lifetime. The crab cakes and corn bread are likewise extraordinary and should not be missed.
If Cajun excess is not your style, fear not, for a few blocks west is a guarantee of succor and sustenance free from pretense and the elements.
One lazy, snowy afternoon I stumbled upon The Shamrock Club. Located directly across from the Merchandise Mart, this unpretentious little bar holds the perfect mix of cold beer, big juicy burgers and great atmosphere. Assuredly not on the tourist top ten, if you need a warm place to hoist a few while meeting both new friends and real Chicagoans, then make your way to The Shamrock Club.