A few weeks ago I went with my husband, who I’ll call Mr. Tasty, to Chicago to celebrate his birthday. I won’t tell you which birthday, but it was a big one, and I don’t mean 30 or 50. In a weekend I’ve mentally edited into a feature film-style montage of eating, drinking, and posing in front of public art beans—Here we are enjoying duck breast Benedict at the Bongo Room! Here’s us draining margaritas at Frontera! Don’t we look cute trying on fedoras at Goorin Brothers?—one meal stands out. If I am in love with Chicago, and I do believe I am, it seduced me under the sepia lights of the Publican.
