Proud Papa

It was one of those rarest of days. A special day. Daddy-daughter. Solo. Actually, even rarer, it was Daddy and older daughter. We made great use of our day together. A day of great chow. A day to make Pop proud.
After dropping off Mommy and other daughter for their camping trip, we faced the first hurdle of the day, breakfast. Chinese she said, and Dad pointed the car in that direction. An unusual Saturday morning traffic jam forced us off the highway at Independence Boulevard, but it gave Dad a chance to point out all the ex-synagougues. I had been happy before with Seven Wives before, for something breakfasty, but different. It was a little hard at Seven Wives because early in the day the seem to have a limited selection.

Limited. Did I mean different, odd? The standard breakfast is pick one from A one from B. A is mostly "regular" breakfasts like waffles and eggs and B is various kinds of noodles. Nothing there sounded appealing. We decided instead for the congee combo. It is firstly a bowl of congee; secondly some soft rolled rice noodles. And did I say I was proud, the chowhoundita had two bowls of preserved egg/fish congee, although she later confessed, she did not want to know what the fish was until after she finished. While it is unglamorously served in a small styrofoam cup, the coffee that is included with the congee deal is very good. Also, the heavy lacquer furniture and artsy-fartsy wall decorations belie the low prices here.

From there we meandered up Michigan Avenue and Clark Street, talking about architecture and stuff, ending at Tower Records. (You know things have changed so much in this hood by how easy parking is.) She made me proud by seeking out (and requesting for gift) Green Day's American Idiot. What's more, the title song, especially, makes me proud that there is something around still called rock n' roll.

Not quite hungry but there, we took our first dip into the waters of Hawaiian cooking, Chicago style, Aloha Grill. We got a big old plate of fried chicken breast, very, very crisp; two sauces, the curry and the sweet katsu sauce; and a lot of rice. Our plate did not include the mac salad, which I think is a good thing. From there, we checked out the Austrian Bakery on Clark. I know it's gotten pretty good reports, and the Brilliant one raves about it, but nothing looked too good. Instead, we had a crepe and mint tea (well mint tea for Dad, crepe for daughter) at Crepes and Coffee. It is an interesting place, apparently run by some Algerians, which of course means you can get merguez in your crepe. But there are a lot of choices that especially appealed to me, with cajeta and dulce de leche and nutella and Belgium chocolate sauce (an international array of goo).

We spent a fair amount of time playing with cats at P.A.W.S, then hooked up with my parents. For more looking at orphaned animals--this time Anti-Cruelty and an early dinner at Marcello's Father and Son. Dad always likes their broasted chicken and especially their cole slaw with a strong suggestion of horseradish (cole slaw tasting anyone?) Of course, she made me proud by scarfing down a big ol' steak sammy.

All during the planning of our special day, we talked about what would be our crowning touch, dessert. And to make me quite proud, she passed, saying she had enough for the day.


Seven Wives
2230 S. Wentworth
Chicago, IL
312-842-7888

Aloha Grill Hawaiian BBQ
2534 N. Clark St.
Chicago IL 60614
773-935-6828

Austrian Bakery and Deli
2523 N Clark St
Chicago, IL
(773) 244-9922

Crepe and Coffee Palace
2433 N. Clark
Chicago, IL
(773) 404-1300

Marcello's (A Father & Son Enterprise)
645 West North Avenue
Chicago, IL 60610
312.654.2550