Stories from Chicago - Part III (revisted)

One of my goals while in Chicago was to have some Mexican food. I had heard that there was very good food to be found there as a result of the large Mexican community in Chicago.

So one evening we (a friend whom we were rooming with, my wife, and I) escaped the confines of the chaotic conference to the Mexican neighborhood: Pilsen. You may wonder about that name - it is definitely not Mexican. The neighborhood started out as a German neighborhood and then turned into the Czech neighborhood. More recently all the European migrants moved out and the Mexicans have moved in, but the name has remained. Ah the dynamism of American (and Candadian) cities.

We had to ride the El (or L) (elevated subway) to get there, passing the old Greek and Italian neighborhoods on the way. The neighborhood was asleep when we got there. The streets were rather empty and most of the shops were closed. I had to use my imagination to picture the animation and vibrancy the neighborhood must exhibit during the day. All the signs were in Spanish and the windows of the closed shops displayed products from Mexico.

Fortunately, the restaurant we were going to, Nuevo Leon, was open. The food was excellent. A taste of Mexico in Gringolandia. I ate too many hot peppers, despite my wife's requests not to and her warnings that I would be sorry later. I wish there were more places like that in Rhode Island, but then again I would be rather rotund if there were.

On the way back to the el station, we passed a bakery that was still open. It was full of Mexican sweet-breads and fresh baked rolls. We decided to stop in and buy some for breakfast the following morning. My wife, again, became my conscience and told me not to get too many. This time I listened. I did buy some of the flour tortillas they were selling to bring back home with me. We ate them a few days later and they were delicious. The sweet-breads were also terrific with coffee the following morning.

Back at the el station, there were some non-Mexican men trying to figure out the automatic ticket vending machine. As we helped them, they said, "Hey, you folks were at the Mexican restaurant, weren't ya? We saw you there. Isn't it great? We're in town visiting from Kentucky. It is our second time there. We we went a couple of days ago and we just had to go back. Maybe we will go back again."

I guess people from Kentucky are friendly. And they like Mexican food. A lot. It was really good food.

And yes, as my wife warned me, I was burping up those peppers later that evening. It was worth it, though.