Showing posts with label illinois. Show all posts
Showing posts with label illinois. Show all posts

Saturday, May 19, 2018

Mindy flies into a bar

FAT>SEA>ORD>IND>LAX>SEA>FAT
If you’ve been reading this blog any length of time, you know that Dean and I aren’t what you might call big drinkers. Some weeks, just finding a bar is a big effort, so it was kind of a relief when I remembered that by hanging out in airport terminals for two days (somehow, it took three planes each way to get me from Fresno to Indianapolis and back) finding a bar to write about would be easy.

I was mostly right. Bars were certainly easy to find.

I left from Fresno on a Tuesday evening, and  John Muir Tavern at FAT was busy. So busy that there weren’t any seats at the bar. I get whiny about carrying luggage around, and I’d just eaten, so the idea of elbowing my way through the people getting drinks was less than appealing. And if I sat at one of the tables, I wouldn’t be able to talk to anybody -- which is our usual motivation for going to a bar.

I took some photos, found myself a seat in the gate area, and waited for my flight to be announced. I’d have plenty of opportunities to go to a bar in Seattle or Chicago, I told myself.

In Seattle, I noticed several likely looking places, and I had a couple hours to wait...but my carryon bags were just so heavy. Besides, I’d have plenty of time to go to a bar in Chicago.

Yeah, no. Our flight had to wait just outside the gate area because (who knew?) airports shut down if there’s lightning in the area. So we sat through a nice thunderstorm, and my flight to Indianapolis left before I could get to the gate in another terminal. I noted several bars as I raced past, but didn’t dare stop.

The nice agent got me on the next flight to Indianapolis, but it was about to start boarding in a third terminal, a lovely new one about half a mile away. At least that’s what it felt like as I hurried past the first gate, past several more bars, and through a couple long tunnels. By the time I reached the correct gate, it was time to board.

Never mind, I thought. I’ll be in three more airports before I get back to Fresno.

After a good visit with family and friends, I got to Indianapolis International Airport before sunrise, with plenty of time for my early morning flight. Plenty of people were in Champps, the bar just past the security checkpoint, and I particularly noticed one man who’d gone through security at the same time I had. I wondered if he was getting breakfast or a drink.

I didn’t get an answer to that question fifteen minutes or so later when he rushed up to the gate to find his flight had just left. They announced a gate change for my flight, so I didn’t hear what happened after he wailed, “But it’s a soccer team!”

I feared missing my flight -- and it was barely 6:00 am -- so I decided I’d wait until I got to LAX, my next stop. Our flight made good time, and we arrived at the Los Angeles airport shortly after 9:00 am. The gate for my next flight was nearby, there were at least three bars in the immediate vicinity, and I had plenty of time. My carryons weren’t nearly as heavy as they’d been. No more excuses. I went into Osteria to see what they had to offer.

The bar had several seats available. I tried to act casual as I took pictures of the people around me. The couple on my right had laptops open and seemed to be discussing plans over bloody Marys; the person on my left had a beer and breakfast. I ordered a Caprese panini with potato chips...and water.

After inspecting the menu, I’d decided to order my drink on the plane. Drinks there wouldn’t cost much more than Dean and I usually paid at a regular bar, and maybe I could ask the person sitting next to me our usual questions. Maybe I could even keep the tiny liquor bottle as a souvenir.

The robot outside another bar tempted me a little, but the place was a brewpub, and (as we’ve mentioned before) I don’t like beer. On to the next flight (up and over Fresno -- it was confusing).

The part of SeaTac around my gate didn’t seem to have many bars nearby, so I was glad to think of ordering a drink on the plane home. I’d changed my seat from my usual back row, window seat to a window seat in the front of the plane, not noticing that any plane that let me sit up front for the same price as a seat in the back might not be big enough to offer drinks. Once onboard, I stowed my bags in the upper bins -- with my wallet inside.

When the flight attendant came around to take drink orders, I ordered, then realized my money wasn’t just out of reach. Bless her heart, the flight attendant said she’d have to charge me for one of the little liquor bottles, but she could give me wine for free.

It took almost 40 hours and about 5,000 miles, but I got my drink.








Monday, September 19, 2016

6 Unexpected Facts about Illinois

1. Three Presidents were elected while officially residing in Illinois: Abraham Lincoln, Barack Obama, and Ulysses S Grant. Ronald Reagan is the only President born and raised in the state.

2. Illinois is the only state whose capital is Springfield.

Wind turbines on the prairie in northwestern Illinois
3. Popcorn and Gold Rush apples are the official state foods.

4. The first European settlers were French Canadians who arrived via the Mississippi River. They mispronounced a term  they heard from the people already resident there (who called themselves Inoka) which English speakers misspelled Illinois. The original term meant "he speaks the regular way."

5. One of the state nicknames is "The Prairie State." (Another is listed on our other Blog)

6. John Deere's invention of the self-scouring steel plow turned the prairie into farmland by the mid-1800s.

Saturday, September 17, 2016

We walk into a bar in Illinois

Cherry Street Restaurant and Bar, Galesburg, Illinois
Cherry Street Restaurant and Bar, Galesburg
For the first time time on this trip, we went to a bar we had visited before, but the last time we were here we didn't drink. More accurately, we didn't drink alcohol. We had sparkling cider and probably water. Frankly, the beverages weren’t the chief thing on our minds because it was, after all, our daughter's wedding day.

Paige and Grant chose to have their wedding reception at Cherry Street because it had been a regular hang-out in their dating years. They were students at Knox College in Galesburg, Illinois, and Cherry Street is an easy walk from the campus. They visited the restaurant together during their junior year. Grant ordered the Prime Rib sandwich, and they were happy to discover it was a huge steak on Texas toast for a quite reasonable price. Paige said that as a college students access to good, cheap steaks made them feel like  “they had hacked the universe”.  

photo courtesy of Grant and Paige Lowe
Grant’s 21st birthday was one of a number of special events celebrated at Cherry Street, but the big one for both of them was their wedding reception. (Paige’s bachelorette party was there as well.) Paige and Grant had decided to get married the day after their college graduation while friends and family were still in town. Cherry Street is closed on Sundays, but it’s possible to rent the place and have catering for special occasions.

At the reception the food was good, but this blog is about bars, you need to know that for the toast Grant and Paige chose sparkling cider, because Jil, Paige’s maid of honor, wasn’t yet 21. Still, when I asked Paige what she most appreciated about Cherry Street, she said, “It’s mostly about the steaks.”

wing night at Cherry Street Restaurant and Bar, Galesburg, Illinois
This time, we went to Cherry Street on a Wednesday night, very excited to know in advance that it was chicken wing night: fifty cents a wing. When we arrived, most of the tables were taken, and the wait staff was busy. We found a couple of seats together at the bar.  Nancy, the bartender, greeted us and told us about the dollar drinks specials (which included a variety of shots, draft beers, and mixed drinks including the Whiskey Sour I ordered). As other people came to the bar, they said, “Hi Nancy,” and she greeted them by name.

The Red Sox and the Orioles were playing mutely on some TVs and Penn and Teller were playing silently on others. Classic rock was playing (Billy Joel’s “Uptown Girls” and the Beatles “I Want to Hold Your Hand” were two songs I noticed.)

Mindy ordered a hard orange soda, and we ordered a dozen chicken wings, salad, and onion rings; after a minute or two, we realized that our waitress was Cherry Street’s owner, Lou. She bought the bar and restaurant six years ago. She’d been a bartender before, but this is the first place she’s owned.

We talked with her about some of the unique features of owning a bar in a college town. She said that during her first year at Cherry Street she felt very close to a number of the students. They asked her to come to the graduation. She said, “I went to the graduation and sat in the first row and cried.” And then they were gone. After that she decided not to get too involved  in students’ lives. After all, students can’t usually become bar customers until their junior year and then they only have one year remaining.

But she said the local young people have “discovered the restaurant side,” and she said she’s been focusing more on that side of the business for the past couple years.

We asked Lou our standard bar questions, “What makes for a good bar?” and “Whether you go or not, what would make for a good church?”

She said that what she looks for in a bar is “atmosphere, for one.” She wants a place “that makes you feel comfortable.” For her, that includes dressing casually and not dealing with an uppity, formal environment. In addition, “the clientele for sure” helps make a bar a place she’d like to be. She also spoke of how helpful it, is as an owner, to have been a bartender. “It’s great. You’ve been in their shoes and understand where they’re coming from.”  She said their customers appreciate the food and drink specials at Cherry Street, and they “love taco Monday.”

Lou doesn’t go to church. She mentioned living in Utah for several years. (“Good luck getting into a church there,” she added.) She told us, “I would say if I had to be a religious person I’d be a Buddhist” because of the way the tradition had been explained to her by a Buddhist friend.

Mindy talked to Blaine, who was sitting next to her at the bar.  He’s recently returned to work after being away due to his health. He told Mindy, “I work in a bar -- I’m a bartender at Duffy’s across the street. People want to be comfortable where they go in. Duffy’s is a laid-back, quiet place. Places like this (Cherry Street) have good food. Meeting new people is always a nice thing for me.”

Mindy asked him about church. “I don’t go anymore, which is a shame.” One reason he doesn’t go, he thinks, is because “churches are different nowadays.” He doesn’t like mega-churches,  but spoke fondly of growning up in the Methodist church. “I like a church to be family-oriented, where they do things in the community.” He reminisced about watching all the people in his childhood church walking down the aisle to take communion., contrasting it with a large church he’d visited more recently. “It looked like a shopping mall inside. It was huge. It didn’t seem personal enough for me.”

I talked to a young guy at the bar named Josh. He said he’s drawn to a cheap bar with the appropriate attractions. Important to him is finding a healthy ratio of women to men. A good atmosphere in a bar is primarly supplied by the staff, he said; in a fancy place or a dive, it all depends on the attitude of those who serve you. The staff may just pretend to be friendly to get a good tip, but it is much better to be in a place where the staff seems to want to talk to you. If the bartender wants to have a conversation, “that’s a beautiful thing.”

When I asked Josh what makes for a good church, he said he doesn’t believe in anything but supports people going to church if it makes them feel more complete. “My Mom’s a die hard Christian. I’ve read the Bible, and it’s a good story, but it’s complete B.S.”

He said that he did appreciate a church he went to with his ex-girlfriend. “Some Christians say God will never give you more than you can handle, but this pastor said, ‘Sometimes you get more than you can handle in life.’ They tried to bring Christianity close to reality.”

He has no patience for Satanism or those who try to make Star Wars a religion. “I like the Golden Rule and when religions try to teach people to be good.” We spent some time talking, and I told him about churches we’d encountered on the trip and why I think the Bible is true.

Until we get back to California, I doubt we’ll have another chance to return to a bar. But I’m glad we had a chance to go back to Cherry Street.