Reminders from our friend Flu

I've been battling the flu for five days now. Five. I never made it to Memphis for Brian's grandmother's funeral. But the painful aching is over, my 100-degree fever has broken, I no longer feel like our apartment's heat is air conditioning and I haven't rushed to the bathroom in about five hours. Hopefully, I'll be able to sleep more than an hour at a time tonight for the first time since getting hit.

Flu's miserable. But getting hit with it has reminded me about a few important things:

1) I know my body really well. I got "hit" with my symptoms at about 9 p.m. on Tuesday. But the days prior to that, I knew something was up. I got back from Vegas on Friday, and all weekend just kept repeating, "I don't feel like myself -- not sick, just meh." I worked out Sunday, but it was so-so. I didn't have the energy I normally would have, even though I had gotten a few nights of good sleep. In spin class Monday, my joints hurt a lot and I had to cut my workout short -- same thing on Tuesday, when it felt as if none of my muscles had recovered from Sunday's or Monday's workouts. That was a huge clue something was up, and I resumed taking Echinacea Goldenseal. The big tipoff though was that I didn't care that I cut my workouts short -- I was just happy to stop.Which leads me to my next point:

2) When I'm really, really sick, I ultimately do not care about working out -- and that's a good thing. Give me a sinus infection or a cold and I'll quit working out after reasoning for myself that it's the right thing to do -- but I'll still count how many workouts I could get in, and think about next week's schedule, and ultimately ponder if it'll affect any of my races that are months away (it won't, but my mind will still go there). But when I'm really, really sick -- like with the flu -- I do not care. Even as I sit here now, 1,000 times better than I was a few days ago (hell, I'm on the computer and typing), I still do not care that I'm missing a workout because I still feel that shitty. I know some committed athletes would be beating themselves up or planning their next training session, and I'm thankful I'm able to be rational about working when I really need to rest up.

3) I completely and utterly appreciate having Brian around to take care of me when I'm in need. Even if I just have a cold or an upset stomach, Brian swings into caregiver mode. I try not to take advantage but do love that I can just relax and get better; knowing he's there is relief enough. He was at his grandmother's funeral this week, so it was just me. At times this week I was hunched over so much when I walked to the toilet I should have just crawled. I dropped things on the floor all the time with my weak and uncoorinated movements -- and of course had to clean up the red Gatorade I spilled on our new carpet and later the honey water I knocked over. These are extremely difficult tasks when it's difficult to roll over in bed. And when you run out of Gatorade or need Tums EX to keep your stomach from rebeling? I'm lucky to have friends who live nearby who picked up necessities, but it was awkward to ask and definitely inconveniencing. The second he came back, I already felt like I was healing faster -- it's clear I need him around. :)


4) My parents will still drop what they're doing to come take care of me if I let them. They're sick themselves and live 21 miles away, but they'll drop what they're doing to make me homemade chicken noodle soup and Jell-O, then drive it out to me through crappy Chicago traffic, with cans of Coke to boot (my mom's forgotten her own advice apparently about drinking clear liquids).

I didn't really need to experience Flu to know I knew my body; that Brian and my parents love me; that I'm not so addicted to working out that I can't take a break. But the reminders are good. They keep me in check. And we all need that, don't we?

What You Need to Do in Vegas

If you followed me on Facebook, you may or may not have caught a few status updates complaining about feeling exhausted from Las Vegas -- beginning halfway through the trip and ending two days after I got home. I was there for work for the International Builders' Show, which is the most important week of the year for our group of magazines because the amount of people, products and story ideas we have access to. That means days begin at 8 a.m. and work committments wrap up around 10 or 11 p.m. Throw in a couple celebratory drinks -- if I can last that long -- and I end up running on five or six hours of sleep. Good times!

But oh, there were good times! Here're actionable items for you for your next trip:

1) Stay at Encore if you can. Scan for deals, try to negotiate a price, do what you can to experience these rooms: creams and beige fabrics with a balanced amount of nearly black wood made you feel as if you were held in a lap of luxury. Flat screens, a bed I wanted to buy, a view that's elongated by mirrors in the sitting are and a doorbell remind you why Steve Wynn makes the money he does. Just don't examine the "Adult Pleasure Kit" box for longer than 60 seconds if you're curious -- you'll be automatically charged. The restaurants are good (enjoy the truffly oil at Society), and stores like Swim and Taste of Wynn make it too easy to drop a paycheck. (I rationed myself but came away with some good, uh, investments). 

2) Eat at Sage. If you read this blog, you know I'm a fan of Shawn McClaine's restaurants in Chicago. Sage -- which he moved his family to Vegas for -- is more of the same good stuff from him. He carried several of the crowd pleasers (albeit updated versions) over from his restaurants here in Chicago (the octopus from Custom House, the barrumundi and hot chocolate chaser from Spring), and the menu is distinctly him -- no surprises, which makes sense, given it's at Aria. Aris is gross. It's cold, dark and steel-like, and even if that's your thing, I don't see how anyone can deny it's  so incredibly generic in color and design that it won't look outdated next month. Seeing Shawn's work and style thrown into this abomination of generic decor is just weird, consideration the cleaner pallette he generally follows (even Custom House, a hotel restaurant, is better) but the food's wonderful. Order the Tin Rose cocktail (or something like that).

3) Drink at Peppermill. Ah, Peppermill. Everyone loves it! You know what a casino bar is like, you know what a club is like, but do you know what a kitschy Vegas lounge with fruity drinks and a fire pit is like? OK, there are pry a few of 'em out thattaway, but there's only one Peppermill. My friend Cynthia found this place the first time we did Vegas, and I dragged my coworkers there, who all agreed it was one of the highlights of the week. I may or may not have been really drunk already by the time this dreamy-eyed photo was taken. Note the pink plush couches, faux greenery and mirrors in the background. It's not loud, and the couple times I've been there, never crowded. Seriously, folks. Do yourself a favor and have the experience.

4) Do not get in any cabs that approach you unsolicited. I needed a cab and was amazed that this one happened to pull up at the right moment. He was taking a gamble, hoping I was a "party girl," which he asked me about several times. No cab number, company name or badge inside the cab either. Thankfully I made it to the hotel, and before I could turn around to get details off the side of the car, he was speeding off.

Those are the highlights. If you go or have been to any of these places, let me know what you think.

I hope Gam liked me

This morning, Brian's grandmother "Gam" passed away. I think she was almost 87, but am happy to report that up until the end, her mind was sharp, and she was surrounded by a family of about 40. Yup, she was a Matriarch with a capital M. Although her mind was sharp, her body started failing her and got progressively worse since Christmas. And now, Gam is no longer with us.

It's weird to think of Brian's family without her. They're incredibly tight knit, in large part because of this woman. She raised five kids -- most who have a clan of their own -- on very strong family ideals. Brian's family has been really welcoming to me because of how she raised them, no doubt. They may be loud, and holiday gatherings tend to feel chaotic -- dozens of strong-willed people in the same house will bear that trait -- but they're all nice. They tease one another and poke fun at one another, but they still all treat each other well, and there isn't a bad soul among 'em. No, they're not all perfect, but I couldn't ask for a more solid family to be welcomed into.

I watch how this family talks to and acts around the little kids -- Lord knows there are at least six under age five right now -- and it's amazing. They're cool and know how to play with 'em, yet all the kids know what they're supposed to do. Doesn't mean they don't push the limits, but they're never bratty. I don't know what they're secret is, but I have a lot of it stems from Gam.

Each time Brian and I visited Memphis, we would always make a point to see her at least once. I observed the standards she sets among her grandchildren and was amazed at the following -- the joy in pleasing Gam and doing the right thing. One of Gam's sister's grandchildren moved to Chicago, for example, and Brian and his brother invited her out to do something. Gam got wind of this and, during our Christmas visit, turned to Patrick and said, "Now, Patrick, I heard how you invited Courtney out, and I have to commend you. That was a very nice thing of you to do. She's new to the city, and it's important to have family around."

She did not offer this commendation in a frilly, too-sweet way. Oh no. If she weren't already telling him he was doing the right thing, she would be giving orders. And you'd follow them.

Gam raised her entire family in the strongest of Catholic senses, and that was evident to the day she died. You can tell it worked because many of her children's spouses who weren't already Catholic converted without pressure. It says a lot. It's not like they're preachy; they just do good things.

When Brian came home after finding out about her passing at work, one of the first things I said to him after condolences and such was, "I hope Gam liked me." I just wouldn't feel right if she didn't. I got the sense she did because she offered that I call her Gam -- not reserved for just anyone -- but I still wanted, or maybe needed, the reassurance she knew her son was with a good person. Brian said he knows she did; whenever she'd visit, after he said hello, she asked about me first. I'll take that as a compliment. :)  

The first time I visited Memphis was for an Easter holiday, and as I said goodbye to her -- the last time I'd see her during that particular trip -- I addressed her as Brian had instructed all weekend: Ms. Hill. When I said this -- we were in the driveway of his aunt's house helping her into her car -- she stopped and stared at me; I panicked, searching for a reason to get such a look. Did I call her by the wrong grandmother's name? Did she think I called her something inappropriate?

"My name" "is Gam. Call me Gam." 

And then I knew I was OK. Sigh of relief all around.

That was awhile ago, and I see her so little, of course I wanted the reassurance now, to know Brian was at ease about whether or not she approved. So far so good. I fully count on her looking down and watching over us (hopefully not realizing from heaven her grandson and I are living together before marriage).

I'm glad I knew you, Gam. Thanks for raising such a good family.

Coming Next: Vegas Update

I'm exhausted -- but that's because it's been a non-stop work-week, including lots of great food-related experiences as well. In my next update:

• My thoughts on Sage at Aria (Sage= winner, Aria = meh)
• The Peppermill! A tacky, kitchsy lounge with pink couches, a fire pit and fruity drinks that got me voted "coolest coworker ever" :)
• Society Cafe at Encore, where a chunk of the items have truffle oil (should be called Heaven at Encore)

Stay tuned!

Food Update! Jam breakfast place, Molly's Cupcakes, and more

Here are a few of the photos that were publishable in terms of quality -- my camera phone only captures well in certain lighting:

The scone of the day at Jam in Ukrainian Village: garlic paprika with whipped butter that was good enough to eat by the spoonful and raspberry jam. Really tasty. I'd been dying to try Jam; it's owned by a bunch of sous chefs at my favorite restaurants in Chicago, and everyone knows it. Consequently, by the time I roll in for brunch on Sunday there's a 1.5 hour wait, no place to really sit and, at least on the first try, they don't even let you put the name of the list unless all people are standing in front of the host. Third time's a charm though -- and showing up at 9:45 was JUST in time to beat the line.

This is Jam's Malted Custard French Toast, which features macerated quince, lime leaf cream and pink peppercorns. The entire dish is lovely -- until you bite into the pink pepercorn. That makes the dish have moxy. And it's great.

Oh, sweet egg sandwich. Jam's features pork cheeks, ricotta and persimmon ketchup. I didn't need the layers of French bolla, but it didn't matter. It's the perfect savory breakfast dish without having a lot of salt, which I like.

Switching gears:

I must recommend Molly's Cupcakes, even if the owner -- my ad class instructor -- ripped my work to shreds and may or may not have asked me, "What will that get you?" after I tossed out a solution to a problem during a brainstorm. Not that I'm bitter or anything (OK, maybe a little). But after a visit with my cupcake-obsessed (in a good way!) friend Cynthia last night, I've softened up: he's got a helluva business.

The country is dotted with cupcake bakeries, many that try to knock your socks off with creations that pair bacon with pears and strawberries with balsamic vinegar. Some of these cupcakes are really good. Others are OK, or tiring; sometimes you just wanna good, no frills dessert. What's great about John's cupcakes are that they play on comforts we all love -- think Boston cream pie or chocolate chip cookie dough -- and work them via filling and toppings into a lovely, cakey delight. The restaurant's concept is a throwback to his elementary school teacher who used to bake cupcakes for birthdays, so it's a playful schoolyard approach -- swings, for example, hang at a bar for seats. Only this schoolyard stays open til midnight, and John was there working himself  even then. Impressive.

Switching gears again:

When my friend Saul visited earlier this month, we ended up at Millenium Park around lunch time, and I immediately thought of Park Grill for burgers. For years I've been reading write ups in the many "Best Burger" issues in Chicago -- seems like everyone's got on -- yet never made my way in. Well folks, it's worth the hype. Pictured on the left is 1/2 of a regular ol' burger and the other half is the angus peppercorn crusted burger, which has gorgonzola, balsamic onions and mustard (although I swear there was bacon, too, but the online menu says otherwise). Guess which one was the best? The regular one, but they were both great. The regular one -- not greasy like its fancy, schmancy rival -- is one of the best burgers I've ever had. I'd go back. Just for the burger.

Vegas Restaurants

I'm due to be in Vegas next week for work, and what that usually means are 17 hour days occaisonally peppered with a great dinner with coworker friends. One in particular, Jay, I see outside of work all the time, and he appreciates a good restaurant. But he's not going this year. Considering I explain pasta with vodka sauce to people at work, I can't expect a hidden foodie to come out of the closet for a pricey meal on the town.

I have a night or two free for dinner so far and am debating meeting up with coworkers for good, fun times, or one night breaking off on my on to do my own foodie thing. Dining alone isn't a problem, but it's not ideal for me. If I'm going to drop a wad of money on a dinner -- at best, I can use my entire $50 food stipend per day on the whole meal -- I'd prefer to share it with someone. But oh well.

Right now I have reservations lined up at Thomas Keller's Bouchon at The Venetian and Shawn McClain's Sage at the new Aria at CityCentre. I just have to figue out which one I'll go to on which night. As tempting as Keller's Bouchon is, my experience is that the Vegas equivalent of notable chef's restaurants are never as good as the original. Todd English's Olives, for example, had humongous portions that were over-salted. My friend thought Craftsteak was OK. And Bouchon isn't getting that great of reviews -- they run the gamut, which says a lot.

Sage though seems promising, if only b/c McClain's new there and I know has had a heavier hand in the restaurant than others might; heck, he left Chicago's Custom House to take this job, so it better be good.

I'll keep you posted.

The Cornish Hen Issue

So I was all pumped tonight to make Cornish hens. Those little birds are too fun -- and too easy -- to cook with that I can't believe I didn't revisit the recipe earlier. Of course, there's barely a recipe as I can't seem to follow 'em -- at all. My standard Cornish hen prep includes rosemary, olive oil, salt, pepper and maybe some thyme and onions.

Today was different. I cubed turnips and sweet potatoes to roast, dressing them in olive oil, salt, pepper, and garlic salt, with a dash of rosemary olive oil.

Those turned out fine.

As I sit here, we're waiting for our young chickens to finish baking. That's because my Cornish hens just would not thaw out. I read up on thawing techniquest that promised 30 min. and no more, but not, these hens, after an hour and a half, were hard as a rock. I planned dinner to be ready within a half hour of Brian's coming home (predicted: 7:30) and had to text him instead to pick up thawed birds.

Of course there weren't any at Jewel, so he ended up with young, expensive chickens at Whole Foods (a regular fryer chicken would have sufficed, but that's my boyfriend, trying to get as close to hens as possible).

So we'll see how this turns out. I basted it in rosemary olive oil, salt, pepper and garlic salt, then surrounded it with onions. Nothing complicated at all, and I hope it tastes as good as the scent wafting through the condo now ...

UPDATE: The young chickens we substituted turned out seasoned perfectly, and amazingly juicy, too -- made for great leftovers. Brian's charged with making the now-thawed and refrigerated Cornish hens on Thursday. 

Another bullet-list roundup: First week of January

So, blog, it's been a while. Since I wrote last, a few things have happened: 

• I battled my sinus infection and recovered just in time to show my friend Saul from Australia around Chicago. His culinary tour -- he's a foodie, so it was my dream tour guide responsiblities -- including Gino's East pizza, Mixteco Grill, Park Grill for hamurgers, Feast for brunch and, rounding out one of the best night's I've had a in a long time, Blackbird for dinner followed by Violet Hour for cocktails, if only b/c we sorta had a hookup (10 min. wait rather than 2 hours, which we just don't do). Every place we visited was a home run. Clearly there are a lot of topics I can write about here, and maybe I will at some point. I don't feel like detailing the food though at the moment, except to say that Blackbird continues to be an all-around amazing dinner and Violet Hour is just too cool. 
• I loved catching up with my Aussie friend. Brian did, too. Saul's a sociologist and, like me, very interested and fascinated in the normal stuff about a culture, so we spent a day visiting very American things like Jewel food stores, Dunkin Donuts and Target. Yes, I'll definitely have to write about that experience, particularly my trying to shield him from seeing an Oscar-Myer cooked bacon product and answering his puzzled question, "Sara, what are pork chitlins?" Ah, good times.
  
• I'm too lazy to plug in links for this post at the moment. Maybe I'll come back to that.
  
• I stopped doing my flip turns in the pool. They just aren't as smooth and fast as the pseudo-turns I have perfected, and I'm not willing to give that up. 
• My calves and core have really strengthened, and I credit that to my gym: there are a lot more hard core people that I can watch and copy  moves from, and the spin classes are more challenging. I've been more sore, but it's a good sore. 
• I can barely get my heart rate up while I'm swimming these days. I mean, it'll elevate, for sure, but nowhere near what it used to be. Is it because of the longer pool distance making it more difficult for me to hold a sprint? Just being too comfortable at a slower-than-normal pace? I noticed I can't really sprint anymore -- it's like my muscles just don't work that way. Maybe it's because when I do sprint, my arms tense up, and my body hates it. I don't know. I have to work it out. 
• I've had a really good streak at work lately.
• I'm on the fourth book of Twilight, "Breaking Dawn." I almost broke up with "Eclipse" in the last book, when Edward basically tries to hold Bella hostage to protect her. Then he apologize, and I came back. It's like an abusive relationship, I wrote on my Facebook status update, but at least I know the difference between a book and reality -- and do not mirror Bella's behavior. 
• I would totally hook up with Edward. I mean, ya know, if he were in real life and I didn't have Brian. :) 
  
• Have read the thousands of pages in the Twilight series, it's becoming clearer to me why I feel so obsessed with it. Some of it I cannot write here. Some of it is as simple as wanting to indulge in a passionate story about two intoxicating characters (or rather, an intoxicating character and his insecure love).
• Barring random circumstances, I will be in Vegas a week from tomorrow for work. I need to find some dining buddies; my coworker friends who I like to catch up with won't be going. Not that I don't like my coworkers that are going, but I see them all the time and like to use this annual trip as a time to try some good restaurants and see coworkers I don't worth with as closely.
  

I promise to get back into topical blogs rather than this mish mash I'm trying to pass off, guiltily typing away so I don't have a month's worth of news to write in one post.