A taste of the town

Chicago was fabulous. Sunny and warm? No, but fabulous nonetheless. First off, I got to meet the lovely Duff, who was funny and nice and brilliantly took J.R. and I to see Wrigley Field, which was lovely in its own not-Fenway-ness. We also got to ride the El, which made me feel like Kovac and Abby were about to round the corner at any minute. Duff is now, and probably ever shall remain, the only person to get me to drink an entire beer. I feel very proud of this accomplishment. And I want a margarita.

In addition to the good times with Duff, I went to Tru for a fancy dinner, which as we all know, is not exactly my scene. Tru was an experience, I'll say that. Not many restaurants will give your purse its very own seat at the table. (Seriously, there was a little stool next to each chair for our purses. It was hysterical.) The food was -- well, gross, really, but the dessert was excellent. (Perhaps if you like your salmon raw, you'll enjoy it. But it was not for me. I felt like Tom Hanks in Big after trying caviar.) I had a lot of rolls and a really good dessert. Eating at TGI Friday's the next night was like heaven. Sad, I know, but true.

J.R. and I also ate at Pizzeria Due (just like Uno's, but better than the franchise versions). Duff took us to Bandera for the best chicken sandwich I can recall (no lie!) and peanut coleslaw, of which I was initially skeptical but now I long for it in my dreams. J.R. and I also had the biggest meat sandwiches I have seen at a place called Relish. Seriously, about 3 pounds of meat per sandwich. Stunning. We also enjoyed lunch at CPK with Lisa and David, which was fun in its own right despite eating food we could get anywhere in the country. Oh, yeah, and there was some work stuff, too.

All in all, good times. And now I can't fit my pants. Bygones.