So, I decided to go out for a walk, to do something that was definitely not work, on my own. I took the el. Yes, I did -- and I even went on the pink line.
I went to the Chicago Maker's Fair sponsored by the Chicago Reader. I needed to do something and that is what I chose for the weekend delight. Alas, I cannot tell you whose gluten free donut I had, though I can ssay that it was a) chocolate-y and b) covered with white sprinkles. I can also, alas, say it was not up to the standards of Do Rite Donuts, which is, of course, another story. (Absolutely the best donuts ever, with the possible exception of the gluten filled butterscotch bacon donut at Nightwood). And, I saw on their website they do . . . chicken?
After the fair, where I bought some cards, perused jewelry, looked at hand made bicycles, and generally listened vaguely to some music, I wandered off in search of a meal. And, that was when I discovered where I was. I was near Fulton Market (which I ought to have known. Maybe some day I will actually buy a map?) -- and thus a variety of foodie treasures. So, I ate at The Publican, which I had heard mentioned, knew was michelin rated, and only ended up at because it was close to where I was.
Suffice it to say that I had a delihgtful bunchy meal. Here's what I had: orange juice (which was good); water which I needed desperately as I was walking about sweating a lot; coffee that was nearly chewable (something I like) and is an Intelligentsia blend exclusive to the Publican, and the main item: a shiquito pepper, summer sqaush, duck confit thingie with a fried egg on top. The egg was, I think, what they call sunny side up. (I usually do not like eggs that are runny at all. I am starting to think I am changing on this front as I get to like some poached eggs and I have to say it, this egg was amazing.) The confit was the right combination of soft, salty, savory, and a tiny bit crunchy. I might have wanted just a little bit less pepper and a tiny bit more squash, but I was smiling the whole way through. And, this was not only because the confit, which they do "across the street," was good -- so was the aoili.
On ambience: I sat at the bar seats, which look at the kitchen. If I had been a bit less tired and a bit less engrossed in a book of haiku, I might have watched them cook and plate more. In the main, it was delightful to see at least one woman in the back of house, to smell the meals, and to be in what turned out to be a quieter part of the restaurant. The service was laid back, timely, and kind (though I might want a slightly different seat at the bar next time, as one of the servers -- not mine -- kept running into my chair).
On things I cannot comment upon: ok, I did not use the bathroom. I used to regularly review (well -- have someone review) the bathrooms at restaurants because they actually are a key indicator of cleanliness, of style, and of attending to the needs of patrons, but I just cannot say anything on this front! I also have zip to say about their bar offerings because I had nothing alcoholic to drink. (Remember I said it was hot -- or at least implied that as I was sweating?)
Here's what urbanspoon has to say:
Guess I have to go back!