cafe nordstrom

date: november 28, 2005
bet: will a late-night, post-thanksgiving-party mason be able to execute a parallel park in (less than) three points?
stakes: lunch
(alleged) winner: mason
(alleged) loser: olive
destination:
cafe nordstrom (55 east grand, third floor)
cost: $28.72

mason: did any of you really think that i would actually lose four bets in a row? i mean not doing the kermit dance in public is one thing, but the thought of actually having to drive olive to whole foods and edmar's and french lessons and that place she gets her hair cut is something entirely different. and never mind the grief that comes with wearing driving hat and gloves and talking all britishish (i wonder if olive would have made me stop brushing my teeth for the week too). and besides, have i ever NOT been able to execute a parallel park in less than three points? hardly. in fact, i think olive would be the first to admit that i'm actually the king of the one-point parallel park, and i added further fuel to my royal fire by winning this bet with a perfectly executed single-point parallel park.

perhaps olive's judgment was a bit clouded by the beverages she had consumed earlier that evening, because, after all, she did allow me to drive part of the way home using the tongs she brought for salad distribution at the party we attended that night. tongs are NOT hands, olive. they're similar, but really quite inferior to good old authentic human paws. they're more like claws, really, though even claws are a bit easier/safer to drive with than tongs.

at any rate, my first win in three bets did not come without controversy. i'm not going to get into it (mainly because i'm sure olive will), but let's just say that the win is in the books (or the blogooks, as it were) and that's all i really care about. i am, after all, a man of science, and therefore live and die by what's in, out, on, under or around the general book vicinity. and no, not that book.

so adhering to the ancient egyptian custom long-considered by bangles everywhere as the undisputed resource for awarding stellar parallel parking, olive provided me with a short trip down michigan avenue (though i'll admit it was verging on magnificence despite its brevity) toward and eventually into the nordstrom building, up the escalator to our immediate right to the third floor, through the women's underwear department of nordstrom-proper (olive did this on purpose) and all the way back to the curiously hidden (and oft-overlooked in favor of the food court) cafe nordstrom.

we were a bit early on this particular day (it was, at the latest, 11:40 in the morn), so we were met with minimal queues (i'm a brit already) as we made a bee-line to the soup section of the cafe's ironically cafeteria-esque ordering mecca. i opted for a bowl of the roasted tomato soup which came with a crusty bread-type item perfect for crumbling and then coercing into what turned out to be a very effective cracker impersonation. positioned quite conveniently next to the soup station, perhaps because of its potential for dipping, was panini city. man, this joint had more paninis to choose from than you can imagine in your wildest panini-infested dreams. the choice was difficult to say the least, but i eventually opted for the ham and swiss variety of pinanner with a tomato alteration (read: addition). olive and i shared a bowl of potato chip/french fry love children that were especially tasty when tormented with ketchup, but they were a bit on the greasy side (as is generally the case with love children). to top it all off, and to be able to officially categorize the consummation of this lunch as a deadly sin, we adorned our tray (yeah, that's right, tray. singular. so what? at least we don't sit on the same side of the booth...) with a chocolate chip cookie roughly six inches in diameter (an aside to HeyZues or whoever's doing the judging these days: the cookie, just like the obligatory tromp through panty pavilion, was olive's idea).

wait, did i forget to mention the pickle? i forgot to mention the pickle. my sandwich came with a pickle and i freaking love pickles (but i do not worship them like false idols or anything). this particular pickle didn't disappoint, though i don't think olive liked the way it was prepared (it was cut horizontally so it resembled something of a tree stump rather than vertically into spears, according to yankee tradition). i, on the other hand, found its odd shape darn refreshing and a perfect compliment to its crunchjuiciful taste.

the sandwich and soup were great too. in fact, i just ate the leftover half of the sandwich as i began typing this entry, so my apologies if i got any on the words. which brings up a good point: if we had leftovers, does this lunch still qualify as gluttonous? which brings up a good question: does god, as my mom says, sign online? and if he does, does he read any good blogs? well if you're reading this, god, please respond. give me a call if you need me to walk you through it (not sure how web-savvy you are).

as i catch my breath and prepare for damnation, i (humbly) turn it over to the O to my M.

olive: mason is a tricky beast. he wants you to like him, so he's acting all innocent over this bet, but that's not how it went down. when we arrived at the potential parking space, mason said, "three point parallel park in this spot," as in this park will require exactly three points. but it only took two, so i thought myself a winner. i admit, i accepted the bet hastily and without clarifying the parameters of mason's statement, but one might reasonably assume that if he had meant "no more than three points" he would have explained it as such. and if that were the case, i surely wouldn't accept such a lame bet. I mean, the boy's damn good at parallel parking. you see? he's tricky. but since i'm not one to make fuss, and considering that mason is most certainly doomed to lose the next bet, i let it slide and assumed the role of loser in this particular round.

at lunch, i ordered a cup of the tomato basil soup, and as mason explained, it was quite delicious. and quite filling -- I only made it about three quarters through. for the main event, i ordered the mediterranean panini featuring grilled artichoke hearts, red bell peppers, red onions, hummus, feta and provalone cheese. this combination of ingredients is hard to screw up, and if you're not in the mood for meat, this pup will do you well. the sandwich itself was quite yummy, though somewhat difficult to eat, as veggie sammiches tend to be with all their slippery and oddly shaped ingredients (does artichoke come in sandwich-friendly form?). it was also quite large. I barely finished one half. though in fairness, i had to leave room for the exceptional cookie (but not quite enough room to finish it).


the cookie was probably the best part of this lunch. soft, chewy, chocolatey. its only downfall was that it didn't come with a glass of icy chilled milk.

also the kind cafe nords staff kept our water glasses full and checked on us often. despite the cafeteria operation they have for ordering, there's a waitstaff buzzing around to do your bidding. i think this place may be a tad overpriced, but it's a worthy lunch destination to boot. plus you can make your lunch partner uncomfortable by dragging them by the lady's unmentionables section.

by the way, mason likes pickles.

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o&m special: traditions of the throws

date: nearly every saturday and sunday
bet: NONE!
stakes: ZERO!
winner: everyone's a winner in this game
loser: there are no losers, only boozers
destinations:
tipparo's (1540 north clark)
the s&g (3000 north lincoln)
pizza hut (division/ashland/milwaukee or north & western)
cost: depends

mason: when the throws are manifested among two individuals for more than a couple months or so, especially when the throws are mutually monogamous, something inevitably happens. this something--nay, this phenomenon i speak of--varies among participants, but the concept is always the same and can be summed up with a simple three-step progression:

1) throw
2) sleep
3) eat

now in certain cases (including ours), an optional fourth step, coined with equal appropriation and purposefully succinct direction as its sister steps, can be added, but not with the finality of, say, a 'point number 4', but rather with an ambiguity and halfassedness shared by none of its brethren:

2.5) drink

it is not on purpose that i call such obvious attention to step number 2.5, for it is the step on its tail around which the subject of this post revolves, and even more specifically, the traditions that without hesitation or even conscious manifestation take shape with such deep and addicting resolve when said step (step number 3) becomes an inherent follow-up to step number 1. or put a bit more simply and soberly, the eating traditions that form when you date one person exclusively for long enough that it's no big deal that there are two toothbrushes in an apartment occupied by one, or that a straight boy who lives alone has eight different kinds of lotion under his bathroom sink, or that a particular side of another person's bed becomes know as your own.

and so we bring you an o&m first (but certainly not last): a quite deliberate digression from our usual formula of betting and lunching...a foray into two other meals entirely, and two days of the week we usually ignore (at least on the blog). because of the holiday this week and the out-of-town visits it entails, we didn't have time to settle our bet from last week in the way of lunch -- hence the first o&m special. and so i turn to olive now for a review of the eating traditions practiced by this blog's authors on the weekends, away from the secrets of the office and away from the eateries of chicago downtown-proper.

olive: i know what you're thinking. pizza hut is gross. well it is, and it isn't. pizza hut by delivery is indeed kinda gross. i mean, you could do so much better. but pizza hut in house (or in hut, as it were) is quite the opposite of gross. delicious, in fact. many a saturday, mason and i wake up wanting to gather 'round the good stuff, and it's off to pizza hut we go. but there are two challenges in dining at pizza hut. one, the pizza hut location you attend is crucial. we have found that pizza hut at western and north is far superior to that at division and ashland. second, pizza hut doesn't open until 11am, so if you share mason's and my problem of waking at first light, you may need a pre-hut snack to tide you over until opening hours.

so when we go, we order the dinner for two. this provides us with a trip to the salad bar, two giant pops (i.e. sodas) and a pan pizza with tomatoes, green peppers, pepperoni and extra cheese. we also order a side of cheesy breadsticks which we will dip in a selection of dressings from the salad bar. i think the reason pizza hut is so good at the restaurant is the temperature at which it is served - hot and steamy. we have also learned through trial and error, that if you order multiple toppings on your pie, you should ask for extra cheese. otherwise, you'll be disappointed.

next!

there is one place in this city (at least that we are aware) that offers anything you could ever want on its menu, made from fresh ingredients, reasonably priced and served by the friendliest staff of all time. the always-tasty s & g (aka sam and george's). this place is especially delicious after a night of the kind of drinking that results in a particularly commanding morning-after stomach, something mason is a bit more familiar with than me...

mason: holy mother of overeating, this place is great. and it's especially great when you wake up three hours before the public is allowed to gather 'round the good stuff. it's a bit of a drive from my or olive's apartment, but well worth it. there's always ample parking and the service is so fast and courteous that the entire breakfast lifecycle at the s&g (often called by olive and/or mason, affectionately, the syril and galapagos) is probably equivalent to that of any restaurant within a few seconds of your waking-up point.

so let me walk you through an average o&m trip to the s&g in tom robbins circa half asleep in frog pajamas-style. you arrive and are immediately ushered to a table that fits exactly the number of the people that you have in your party (it's amazing how they just happen to have a table for 13 when you need one). the bus boy for your section arrives seconds after you're seated with a huge carafe of water and glasses for each table-dweller (infrequent h2o refills are NOT an issue here). if you want coffee, it is served up immediately as well (you're usually more into hot chocolate). soon after the bus boy's departure, an extremely greek waitress with the perfect amount of friendliness for a hungover saturday/sunday morning arrives to take your order. given your familiarity with the menu, you already know what you want. you consider getting something you've never had before, but usually revert back to one of the three things you know will hit the spot with the fervor of a liger. for me, it's either a) the turkey club, b) the cheeseburger delux, or c) the spinach and cheddar omelet.

olive: for me, it's a) the tuna croissant, b) the avocado blt, or c) the spinach and feta omeletoid.

mason: now here's the important part (and the end of my second-person experiment). options a and b are always accompanied by fries, pickle and coleslaw and are ALWAYS preceded by a bowl of soup, usually chicken rice. option c is always accompanied by hash browns and some sort of toaster-happy side item (english muffin for me, wheat toast for olive) and ALWAYS preceded by a pancake appetizer. that's right, i said a pancake appetizer. that's three pancakes, served before breakfast, as an appetizer (you should have seen the look on our usual waitress' face the first time we did this -- she was quite equally confounded and impressed). is a pancake appetizer excessive? maybe. but is it also delicious? definitely. just ask olive.

olive: i whole-heartedly agree. i can't believe in a country of over-eating and over-ordering, that a pancake appetizer hasn't become the breakfast norm. the amazing thing about s & g is that the items featured on the menu altogether must require hundreds of different ingredients, and they are all available fresh in their kitchen. you won't find any canned fruits or veggies in there. also, if you order a soda, they often, without being asked, bring you a mini jug of your fizzy friend for your own refill administering.

i think mason will agree that we could go on and on (and on) about the s & g, but for the purposes of keeping this post only somewhat excessively long, we should probably move on to tiparro's.

sunday nights are for ordering thai and watching tivo'd tv (usually the office, family guy and curb your enthusiasm). classic t's and s (thai, tv and sunday). there are a number of perfectly lovely items on tiparro's menu, but only one for me and mason. number five: pepper garlic chicken, extra cucumbers, extra sauce. throw in a couple orders of small rice, please bring us extra hot sauce, and by the way we have a coupon for free potstickers or crab rangoon. we take extra care in preparing and mixing the chicken with rice and sauces and it is almost always super tasty, though once in a while we'll get a delivery that has..ah hem...turned. either the chicken doesn't seem that fresh or the order arrives on the chilly side. but overall, i'd put tiparro's in the 87th percentile, plus a few extra points for knowing our order by heart.

mason: and so we come to the end of the first ever o&m special. we wish you all very happy eating this thursday and very happy other things the wednesday before and friday after (i think you know what i'm talking about). we bid you farewell until next week when we take a look at what might be the most controversial bet in all of olive and mason history, not because of its subject matter, but because of the outcome. until then...

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p.j. clarke's

date: november 10, 2005
bet: will mason imitate kermit the frog's excited dance in a public place?
stakes: lunch
winner: olive
loser: mason
destination: p.j. clarke's (302 east illinois)
cost: $45

olive: this bet takes some explaining. did you ever watch the muppet show? well, kermit (the frog) always introduced the acts. he would start announcing them like a normal person/muppet, but would eventually be consumed with excitement. this resulted in what i like to call kermit's excited dance: head back, mouth open, skinny frog arms flailing about, bouncing around side-to-side and shouting, "yaaaaaay!" to see just what i'm talking about, please click here.

when this dance is imitated by humans, it is just plain hilarious. i've been known to throw out the kermit dance when warranted, but mason wouldn't dare. too embarrassing, i'm sure. during our flat sammie's lunch, i dared him to do the dance in public, and he agreed. the terms were that it had to be with me at a public place like a restaurant or bar; performed while sitting down (it's really the only way to imitate it properly); and people had to see it. he had more than a week to complete the task ensuring several sufficient opportunities. but mason never delivered, making me a three-in-a-row bet winner (gloat gloat).

identity clue #3:


mason: right. so i didn't deliver, but in my own defense, i am quite admittedly an extremely forgetful person. even items as important as lunch bets with olive sometimes slip my mind, especially when there's something incredibly wonderful and distracting sitting in front of me such as, oh i don't, FOOD. so although i had three or four chances to do the kermit dance, the bet only actually came to mind once, and that was only because olive reminded me. at that point i still had plenty of time to win the bet so i figured i would hold out for a more interesting locale for which to commence frog-flailing (this particular lunch where i was reminded took place at corner bakery, whose food i love but whose everything else i hate).

so excuses aside, i must give olive credit for her betting strategy. she knows i'm forgetful and she also knows how silly i feel doing the kermit dance (yes, i've done it before, but only in the privacy of one of our own apartments and with the assistance of anywhere from four to 18 drinks). most importantly, though, olive managed to nab herself a third win in a row, which, as y'all should know by know, means that i'm one bet away from having to be her chauffeur for an entire week.

which brings us to this week's review -- p.j. clarke's. before i turn it back over to olive for her take on this joint, i will first say this about my experience. everything about this lunch (food, service, atmosphere, timeliness, affordability, and even lunch dining nuances such as how often your water gets refilled and how many napkins you're provided with) was PERFECT. i had the cream of cauliflower soup to start (which was infiltrated repeatedly by some dip-happy pieces of incredibly tasty bread) and the california wrap for my main course. the wrap consisted of chicken, lettuce, tomato, cucumber, avocados, mozzarella and a pesto mayonnaise that was out of this world, and it was served with a pile of fries that i couldn't have finished in three separate meals.

identity clue #4:



olive: i agree. this lunch was quite terrific from start to finish. to start, i ordered a hot chocolate with whipped cream. it was quite chilly outside, and the hot cocoa was the perfect antidote. i LOVE hot chocolate, especially when it's topped with an offensive amount of whipped cream. apparently, the kind staff at p.j.'s was aware of this because they delivered a piping hot cup overflowing with the good stuff.

for the meal, i ordered the pesto penne pasta with shrimp, fresh mozzarella and asparagus. the shrimp was quite fresh and the asparagus was cooked just enough. the sauce was much richer than i expected (perhaps it should have been named buttery- pesto-cream penne), but it was quite delicious nonetheless. the dish came with equally pleasing garlic toast made even more palatable when dipped in the pasta sauce.

i was pleasantly surprised by this place. the photos on the outside of the restaurant depicting a bar crowded with business-types and one patron staring at the camera giving a number one sign, or finger-point, or something always made this place seem lame. but it's not, at least not for lunch.

note: the portions here are quite large, so you'll either leave quite stuffed, or with an awkwardly-shaped package of leftovers (can't a brotha get some handles?).

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flat sammie's

date: october 28, 2005
bet: will olive call in sick to work tomorrow?
stakes: lunch
winner: olive
loser: mason
destination: flat sammie's (811 north michigan)
cost: $24

olive: so i don't really like taking sick days. in fact, in the almost-two years i've worked at the place that i currently work, i've probably only taken a total of four sick days, and considering the limited vacation time i receive and my propensity for vacation-taking, it's a wonder that i haven't used up more sick days for no good reason.

anyway, it's thursday night. i'm exhausted from the week. but on this particular night, i have one job, and that's to see the new pornographers with my sister and mason and mason's cousin. scratch that, two jobs. see np and get straight folded. about three quarters into the night, it becomes clear that going to work the next morning is going to be near impossible, so i start chattering about how i'm calling in sick the next day. mason, knowing my aversion to taking sick days, was wise enough to challenge my claims. and thus a bet was born. if i called in sick on friday morning, i would be a two-consecutive-bet-winner.

so morning comes and i'm a winner. a week later, we go to flat sammies in the water tower and order piles and piles of food. i got a veggie sub, which came with tomatoes, cheese, cucumbers and avocado (grilled flat). chips and pickle slice accompany. verdict: pretty yummy. they have a do-it-yourself soda fountain, so to accompany my sandwich, i made a mixture of three parts diet coke and one part cherry coke. not too cherry. not too diet. pure genius on my part, but i have to give thanks to flat samuel for providing the means.

our enjoyment of the food was slightly inhibited by the lunchtime piano man. i can't even think of him and his horrible rendition of "don't stop believing" without shuddering, but i'll leave this, and the rest of the food reviewing, to mason.

mason: i know everyone's excited about the sox and all (this lunch took place, i believe, the same day as the parade), but that piano guy was near intolerable. he was one of those piano guys that made little comments in a regular talking voice between verses ranging from brief tidbits about the song's lyrical content to observations about his audience. i can only imagine how annoyed the people sitting right next to the piano must have been. i think i even saw an old lady flick him off.

so music aside, flat sammie's was darn good. i had the sandwich special of the day, called the aunt dolores, which consisted of ham, turkey, tomatoes, mustard and a special garlic sauce that provided its signature taste. we also (over)ordered up a side of mac and cheese and a side of nachos, both of which were insanely good, but led to serious case of overeating on my part.

regarding the bet, i must admit that olive surprised me by actually calling off work. to her credit, she managed to do both her jobs quite well, including getting thoroughly loaded at the new porn show. not wanting her to have to spend the day alone, i also called off work (i know, i know, i am way too nice). the difference with me calling off work is that i've perfected it into somewhat of an art form, and therefore choose to practice my trade way more often than olive. here are a few examples of the more impressive excuses i've used in the past to avoid work:

• locked myself out of my apartment in my pajamas
  
• cat is extremely sick and can't be left alone (i don't have a cat)
  
• i have an extremely debilitating case of tennis elbow
  
• i've broken out in a full body rash as a result of cleaning my tarantula's cage (this actually happened, but it wasn't a full body rash -- more like a few bumps on my hand, but IT COULD HAVE SPREAD)
  
• pink eye (olive was damn surprised when we started dating and she found out this was only a scam -- i managed to cop two days off of this terribly contagious yet utterly fabricated disease)
  

i could go on, but like any good magician, i cannot and will not reveal all of my secrets. oh, but that reminds me, i also once called off work because i couldn't find my bunny (i later realized i left him in my top hat).

on that note, please stay tuned for next week's entry where olive may or may not win her third bet in a row...

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