WE'VE GOT RESERVATIONS AT SCHWA

After one and a half months and one missed call, I finally got us reservations at Scwha. It's the dream we've been chasing -- the dream to return for Brian and I, to experience it for his brother Patrick -- with reservation nightmares.

If you don't know Schwa, take some time to get to know the story of wonder, a nervous breakdown, a hiatus and back to wonder.

It used to be that you'd call and have to book out months in advance. And calling to get a hold of someone to take your reservation was nearly impossible, thanks to the fact that five (I think it's five) people run the entire place. That was Brian's experience a year ago. Now, you have to call and either 1) listen to a repeated "Voicemail Box Full" message day after day or 2) Leave your information for a reservation request for the following month and pray you're around to get the call when it does come -- weeks later.

You'll hear stories about how to talk to someone. "Call between 2 and 3 -- that's when Michael Carlson told me he answers the phone." "Call around noon, when they'll likely clear out the voicemail box." "Try showing up in the afternoon."

Nothing worked. But I did get a call.

I missed that call while I was on a business trip. The message I left detailed my name, phone number, the number of people in the party and the date we'd prefer, along w/ the note that we were totally flexible. The message they left weeks later came from what sounded like either a boy who was 12 or a man who was stoned (maybe both?) and it went like this:

"Hi, this is Schwa returning your call. If there's anything we can do for you, please give us a call back."

What the fuck.

It's maddening, of course. I left another message and eventually stopped trying. Then I came down with the flu and pneumonia and forgot about it entirely.

Lo and behold, Michael Carlson himself called today to tell me -- surprise! -- I was on a wait list for tonight (really?) and could come any time I wanted. Tonight. "Oh  my God!" I said. "We'll be in!" Then I remembered our long-standing Frontera reservations, and the fact I'm still not up for alcohol, and that we'd have to check with Patrick. A lot of ifs. But the pressure! He talked at high speed and was very nice, but he wanted a decision, and he wanted one now.

I found out he was currently eating at Frontera as he returned me call. He promised Schwa would be amazing. I told him I already knew that.

Thankfully it hit me to slow the fuck down and ask questions. Turns out there were two weeknight reservations in March and I ended up getting one on St. Patrick's Day.

We hung up. Then I used my inhaler.

This is way too stressful of an experience. Their system is horrible!Yet they know they can do it because they're that good, and people will call, and they will phone-stalk the place. We liken it to the best dining experience. Ever.

Hopefully the stress is till worth it.

***
Yup, we've got reservations at Frontera Grill tonight -- my first time, Brian's second or third -- for our Tuesday Night.

It feels good to be getting back to normal life, even if it is still in slow motion.

Lula, You're Wonderful, But Cafe You Are Not

Brian and I ventured to Lula Cafe yesterday -- finally! -- for Tuesday Night and were reminded that you can go to a restaurant and have every course and every dish taste great; sit in a spot-on, warm atmosphere with stellar service; and still be surprised with unique twists on familiar and unexpected ingredients alike. It lived up to the hype -- and there has been a lot of it (deservedly it turns out). But that's not what I want to write about.

Lula calls itself a cafe.

To Lula and all the other restaurants that tack on "cafe" to their name, I say: wtf.

A cafe is a little restaurant that serves coffee and maybe sandwiches and other light things. Merriam-Webster agrees! There are nice little tables to sit at and people watch, and you can generally hang out all day if you want. Only have a few bucks? Fear not, you can still get a drink and snack. I think of Paris, romance, traveling, puppies with their owners and all other cafe-type things that make them a great urban escape.

But there's a crop of restaurants posing as cafes, and they're ticking me off. Magnolia Cafe, Lula Cafe, Cafe 36 -- yeah, I'm talkin' to you. You serve pork dishes! You braise meats! And I have to drop a good $60 on a meal for two -- because it's dinner  you serve, not a sandwich and soup with a side of wrought-iron furniture. If I had a dog, there would be no place to tie it up, which is standard cafe service protocol. Again, wtf.

Lula, you wonderful place, you: sadly you're guilty of this misnomer. Your short-rib stuffed rabbit was phenomenal but requires a full kitchen for preparation. Your sketchy locale (OK, Logan Square is *slowly* gentrifying, but it ain't there yet) does not allow for the relaxing people-watching I expect to at any cafe, and you open for dinner. Will you allow me to hang out all day at one of your fancy tables buying only a coffee and sandwich? I think not.

I wish these restaurants would just call themselves what they are and drop the "cafe." Or at least follow Cafe Too's example, which is closer. Stop messing with my expectations, even if you hit home runs on all other counts.

***
Why We Can't Wait to Go Back to Lula:
-- the fact our waiter was Mexican and our water boy was white (sorry, but how often do you see that?)
-- a great beet salad with myer (sp?) lemons and homemade ricotta
-- crispy sweetbreads with figs
-- a homemade pasta and pork dish (with more figs!) that oozes comfort
-- a great meritage for $9 a glass
-- kick-ass short-rib-stuffed quail with winter vegetables and pumpkin puree
-- and the carrot cake. Sure, carrot cake is carrot cake. But do other versions have Lula's frosting recipe? Nope. It's perfectly moist and carroty goodness.

Tuesday Night Review ... Time for A Running Coach?

Note: As I'm writing this, I'm eating Zataraine's jambalaya mix. Do I like it? Eh, not so much. The red beans and rice package is good though ...

Here's an update: for Tuesday (Wednesday) night, Brian and I went to a long-standing "English" pub, The Grafton, not to be confused with an Irish pub (no gaelic, less green, etc.). I give it 2 of 5 Zs.

Ouch! I know, I know. Why the low rating? The food really wasn't that good. My burger was blah, and the cole slaw proved that it is possible to have a dish that uses mayonaise and tastes just as bland as ... cold, chopped cabbage. Brian's cajun chicken sandwich seemed to comprise schnitzel-esque chicken (pounded meat). My mashed potatoes were good, but it's pretty hard to screw up mashed potatoes.

Here's where The Grafton wins: The atmosphere. The staff. Both are charming. If I were judging it by a pint and a good time, it'd be 4 of 5 Zs. But if you go there hungry, you might be taking your chances (after all, my experience was one night, right?).

Ideas for next Tuesday (Wednesday): The Fantastic Crepe (so new I couldn't find a Web site) or a Korean place.  Stay tuned.

***

So this running thing, yeah ... I've gotta get into a rhythm, and I'm scared. I'm scared of making my knees worse, and I'm scared of being in pain from the more frequent runs and then having my other workouts suffer. But I don't want to say "I can't," and I do want to continue to build strength and push myself.

That's why Brian is pushing for me to see Bill Leach, a well-known running coach (at least on the Northside) in Chicago who analyzes gait  along with training runners. I'm interested in finding out if how I run is the correct way. Believe it or not, you really can have a messed up stride or technique, and that can aggravate current problems or trigger new ones. Brian, for example, has completed several 1/2 Ironmans and a ton of Olympic distance triathlons to find, after nine months off a lot of pain once he resumed his workouts, that all these years he's been compensating for poor running technique and thus has more knee and leg pain than he should.

I'm also considering returning to PT, but I want to see "Coach Leach" first. I've actually watched him work with people while I took PT at Accelarated in Lincoln Park. He was focused and definitely coach-like. But that's what I need.

Yeah, I'm in pain. It's not a lot and definitelly something I can deal with, but I don't want it to escalate and genuinely want to understand how my body performs -- and what I can do to help it. Some people are natural athletes and can crank out ultramarathons (please excuse the Wikipedia reference there) without woes. I am not one of those people. But that doesn't mean I'll sit on the sidelines.

New Restaurant: Fianco (3 of 5 Zs)

Brian and I headed to Fianco last night for a nice dinner before he headed to Vegas with his friends. Fianco's gotten solid reviews in TimeOut Chicago, Chicago Magazine and Metromix, and the menu -- would it be called rustic Italian? -- seemed appealing and not too expensive.

Also of note: Fianco's in the space of the former Winston's Market, whose owner didn't really know how to pull the place together. Brian and I liked the concept of Winston's -- a place to pick up a fresh sandwich or salad, or takeaway something pre-prepared for dinner -- but were always finding it missed the mark, including in atmosphere,which should have been a home run given the exposed brick walls and high ceilings. It seemed empty, awkward, half-way upscale (the exposed brick, nice wood, art) and half-way done on-the-cheap (wobbly formica tables, awkwardly placed; a semi-coffee shop feel with one type of coffee that came out of a pump: regular). I don't need perfection, but every time we went, I was uncomfortable. And that's no fun.

We were uber curious to see what Fianco would be like. And it was good -- 3 of 5 Zs -- including the atmosphere, which is warm, comfortable, perfect for a first-date (they know this, given the number of two-seaters) yet still easy for a small group. So you can imagine our surprise to learn it's the same owner! I mean, I literally sat there during dinner and, looking around the room at the full house, said, "I feel bad for the past owner. He'd probably drive by and see it so successful and feel bad."

It's true, on a cold, rainy night, there were more people in the restaurant than we saw in all our combined visits to Winstons -- people are receptive. The critics were right that it's worth a try. I had "Gigli," horn-shaped pasta with mushrooms, a little ricotta, tomatoes and lamb sausage. Overall, the dish was tasty but standard. Brian's was really tasty: bison ravioli with a corn-butter-parmesan sauce. The sauce was definitely buttery but lovely: there were corn kernals, which I thought was unique. Our apps were good: he had simple but flavorful green beans, and I had the octopus (cooked well but almost too heavy of a grilled, salty taste).

If you go, above all, GET THE GELATO AND SORBET. There's a large assortment, and in one dessert you can choose three. We had pistachio, hazelnut and apple cider sorbet. Each were wonderful! Not overpowering, light, and sprikled with crumbled biscotti and mint -- a perfect ending.

There was a mixup when we sat down of some sort; after 15 min. of no sign of a waiter we had to ask for one, and it was another few minutes before our server came -- who we later found out had just arrived when she wasn't able to answer our question about the daily farmer's salad. (She later noted they added 7 tables that day; maybe bad staff planning?). Although it was a little annoying, she was nice, and everything else went on without a hitch. Not sure if it was for the wait or being locals, but we did get a 15% off card for Tuesday or Wednesday nights. Perfect for our date night; we'll be back.

Note: As of this posting, the Web site says it doesn't except reservations for parties under six people, but it's incorrect and needs to be updated. We ended up being seated without a reservation, luckily, and I'm happy they do accept reservations. Restaurants that don't are my pet peeve, but that's another topic for another day. :)

Give Indian Food A Chance (Specifically Chicago Curry House)

I came to work today excited to share my story about another successful Tuesday Night  at Chicago Curry House. But I didn't really get anywhere because I was immediately greeted with  the typical "I don't like spicey food" reply I hear when Indian food comes up.

Bor-ing. And frustrating, because half the time when I hear a comment like that, it's usually because people are equating using spice with being spicey, as in super hot on your tongue. Changes are, they ate a Hot Tamale, realized they didn't like their tongue to feel as if it were on fire, then swore off "spicey" food. Or maybe they did try a curry, but instead of its being a yellow curry or a dish simply made with curry spice, it was green curry, which I'm convinced could raise the dead.

The truth is I don't like foods that are so spicy they burn my tongue either. But I do like spice, and Chicago Curry House has got it. I wish I could convince these "spice haters" to try it! Pictured above is the delectable and oh-so-scrumptious Curry House Special Vegetable Dinner, with (and I'm going to cut-and-paste here)  Dal Makhunu, Palak Paneer, Aloo Ghobi, Navaratan Korma Served with Basmati Rice, Naan and kheer. That translates to spinach and cheese; lentils; chick peas; cauliflowr; raita (sp?); a vegetable jaipur thingy; and cold slices of tomato, lemon and cucumber. At right is the yummy chicken korma.

I can't talk about Indian food worth shit; I'm not an expert by any means and can barely pronounce the name, yet list the ingredients. But Brian is! And so is my friend Paula. And surely all the Indians we see eating there are experts as well. I can't speak for the strangers, but reviews so far are stellar from people who have taken my recommendation.

It's a winning place -- I give it 4 of 5 Zs -- because the food's great, the service is top (the manager personally has come around each time we've been there, on top the wait staff being on their game) and the atmosphere is still nice -- you won't find questionable floors or tables that don't look clean.

I hope people make a visit. They opened this year (bad economy!) and the location is a little off beat (South Loop, 1/2 block west of State street), which all spells trouble. But if the reviews and steady crowd in the dining room is any indication, they should be fine. Crossing fingers! I don't want to only have Devon as a solid Indian option.

***
I just realized I never explained Tuesday Nights. When Brian and I first started dating, we discovered Tuesday Night to be a perfect mid-week date night for both of us. When we'd make plans, we always wanted to a try a new restaurant, and that's our goal. Sure, there have been many repeats, but above all, it's our night out, so much so that we've scheduled anniversary or birthday dinners specifically on Tuesday nights. Another bonus: restaurants are better mid-week -- but that's merely icing on the cake.

Of note: Through June -- or at least until I'm in class -- Tuesday Nights are actually Wednesday nights because my class meets Tuesdays. Regardless, it's Tuesday Night to us, and that's how I'll refer to it here.