I don't generally spend much money on unnecessary things. But when I'm going through my bank statement, wondering where my paycheck disappeared to, it's usually food.
A $40 top I'm likely to wear over and over seems like too much of a splurge. On the other hand, if I'm out to eat, my thought process goes something more like this:
"$28 for a delicious dinner and glass of wine? That's pretty reasonable. After all, we shared, so I really got to taste 2 different dishes. That's saving money, really."
"$3.50 for gelato is fine. It's so rich and delicious. Totally deserve this."
"GAH I'm hungry and cranky and that overtime I just worked can totally pay for this pricelessly scrumptious crepe."
This might explain why I haven't bought new clothes in months.
Not that I go out to eat all that often. I almost always make my own meals at home, eating the same thing all week until I just can't look at lentils anymore. So if I'm paying someone else to cook, it had better be a Food Experience. Which brings me to Chicago's latest culinary excitement, Eataly.
"Life is too short not to eat well."
I first heard about Eataly just after it opened in Chicago, and I couldn't really figure out what it was at first. Was it a restaurant? A store? A collection of stores? Either way, I knew I had to check it out. So, a couple weeks after its opening, I went to Eataly with my friends Megan and Amy for dinner. I had assumed that, like all trendy and cool food places, it was tucked away somewhere in the West Loop in a converted warehouse, but somehow I missed the huge windowed building smack in the middle of River North, just off the Grand red line L stop.
Upon entering, we were greeted with adorable carts of citrus fruits, exotic mushrooms, and fresh vegetables, all nestled in baskets. It looked like a little outdoor market, with a little European grocery store attached. The place was packed (after all, it was a Friday night shortly after the opening) but we found our way through the masses of people to see the Nutella Bar, which is, in my opinion, the greatest bar in the city of Chicago. The first floor is clearly dessert-focused, as next to the Nutella bar is the gelateria (gelato) and the pastry counter. There's even the first of multiple espresso bars so you can get your caffeine fix for energy to traverse Eataly. You might need it.
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| I didn't know half of these mushrooms existed. |
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| The Nutella Bar. These ladies don't know it, but they're my new best friends. |
After weaving our way through foodstuffs and kitchen utensils and cookbooks, we headed upstairs to the restaurant area. When we got to the top of the stairs, all three of us just kind of stood motionless except for our heads turning every which way, trying to make sense of what our senses were telling us. There were endless bars and counters and signs and smells, and it was nearly impossible to figure out where to start. We passed the bar selling delicately fried things like arancini (cheesy rice balls), a wine bar, a counter devoted to mozzarella and other cheeses, what looked like a full butcher shop, and a fresh seafood counter selling everything from salmon to huge octopus tentacles. Sprinkled everywhere were high marble tables, most without seats, where people ate plates of charcuterie and sipped wine. What really struck me is that there were no hidden kitchens that I could see. You could watch all the food being prepared right in front of you, and even the walled-off bakery had wall-to-wall glass windows so you could watch the bakers at work.
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| Fried things. Yes please. |
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| Il sushio, as I believe it is called in Italian. |
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| Raw Bar |
Thankfully Amy had been to Eataly already and suggested we go for the sit-down pizza/pasta restaurant section, really just a roped-off collection of tables in between the pizza and pasta kitchens. We put our name in, and a phone number so the hostess could text us when our table was ready, allowing us to wander freely. Great idea, right? Every restaurant should do that. We intensified our already-present hunger by perusing the packaged pastas, bottles of olive oils that looked like fine wines, actual bottles of fine wines, and even fancy Italian soaps and beauty supplies. There were walls of pesto and pasta sauces, a tempting cheese section with cheeses I had never heard of before (and I love cheese) and cured Italian meats, and a little bookshop with titles like The Geometry of Pasta. Which would make a completely suitable gift idea for someone such as myself.
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| Come to me, my love. |
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| Pasta and shapes. Two of my favorite things. |
Finally our table was ready. Upon it were hunks of fresh crusty bread wrapped in brown paper, and olive oil for dipping. We ordered a glass of wine each and looked over the menu. We decided to split two dishes between the three of us and chose the Mianese pizza with prosciutto and arugula and the ravioli with ricotta, pistachios, and a lemony sauce. Both were absolutely delicious and we finished every crumb. There was definitely room for dessert though.
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| Amy and Megan, shortly before we devoured that prosciutto pizza. |
Before we descended back to the first floor, we looked around some more at the groceries and Amy bought some beer from the Birreria, which sells an impressive variety of foreign and American craft beers like Half Acre. You can even get some of them on tap at the bar.
We ended the evening with some excellent gelato. There were lots of excellent-sounding flavors, and even soft-serve gelato, which is apparently a thing. I ordered a cone of tiramisu to complete the Italian theme.
Two days later...
The following Sunday I made another stop. I was famished after staying at work longer than expected, and in my hungry/annoyed state I decided that I deserved a treat. This time it was a piping hot crepe from the Nutella bar. Once the woman manning the crepe station finished it she let it sit on a plate for a few minutes, which confused me at first: Why isn't she giving me my crepe??? Once she did I understood that otherwise I would have burned my mouth in my desperate quest for chocolate-hazelnut goodness.
I meandered around the second story finishing my crepe. Though it was pretty satisfying I couldn't help but to be drawn to the focaccia counter. I ordered a square of the $2 classic focaccia, which was warm and soft, seasoned simply and divinely with olive oil, sea salt, and rosemary. My brain was yelling in all caps about how delicious it was, but my mouth was too full to speak. The best part about Eataly's focaccia is that at less than $4 for even the varieties with toppings, it's easily the most affordable way to satisfy your hunger and taste buds.
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| Hey there beautiful, how you doin'? |
Needless to say, I will be returning to Eataly. There's so much to try. It's definitely not an everyday lunch place if you're on a tight budget, but for a once-in-a-while treat it's an excellent option.
