I don’t know what there is to say, besides “How are you?” or “It’s been a while.” Better to just start back up, like I hadn’t been on a lost weekend.
Restaurant: Muskie’s
Intersection: Lincoln & Lakewood
Rating: 4/5
January 5th, 2011:
Chicago’s getting soggy, again. But this winter is much more fickle than last. One day it will be grey, soggy, brisk. The next day, it will be cold, raw, possibly sleeting.
It doesn’t matter. I think my hair is falling out. I look down at my laptop keyboard and always have to brush away some loose hairs. Although, I am no doctor. For all I know, I have the opposite problem. Too much hair. My hair grows in such mass quantities that my head can’t handle all of them. On top of my head a war for survival of the fittest rages on. A volatile civil war, as hair fights hair. To the death. The losers cast off my head like a retarded Spartan baby[1]. I don’t know. I don’t have time to find out if my hair is falling out.
My apartment is a three story walk up. That also means it’s a three story walk down. It’s a lot quicker than the crowded dorm elevators I used to frequent. Now, it’s a simple three flight jaunt. It’s deceptive though. Because, while I have less to go down to catch the nearest bus, I still have more to go. Back in the dorms. Life was simple. The bus was out front. The train was on the corner.
Now, the bus is around the corner. The train is about three blocks over and three blocks south. And there’s the courtyard. I always forget that I don’t just go down three flights. I then also have to go about 50 feet through the courtyard. Not a lot but still, everything adds up.
I catch the Broadway bus, the 36, down to Diversey. Standing at the Diversey bus stop, I look at the Vitamin Shoppe. I have been told this used to be a record shop. I haven’t done the proper research, haven’t had the time, so I have no idea if it’s true. If it is true, then the late-era portrait of The Beatles, that reads “Now on iTunes”, is less a billboard and more a victory flag.
I wait, impatiently, for the bus to come. I have more to do today. A movie to see. I’ve become a film reviewer, along with food blogger, improvisational comedian, actor and, now, playwriting major. Whatever I end up doing, I’ll be talking for a living.
John, Paul, George and Ringo watch me board the 76 to head west[2]. I need a burger. When I last tried to reboot the Diaries, I had made plans to go to upwards of 20 burger places in a week. I can’t remember the actual plan, because by day 3 of nothing but burgers I went mildly insane. Now, I love a good burger. But, I’d made a terrible mistake and decided that Kuma’s Corner was the place to go on day 2. I ended up having the greatest of my life. A small religious experience that made all attempts to eat, let alone enjoy, a burger for the following week impossible. As the bus goes along Diversey, I pass by the first place I went to start off the infamous burger run. The Counter, this modern design-your-own-burger place.
The 76 arrives at Diversey and Lincoln and I walk up about a block or two. I don’t walk for long. I am met by the shriek of nostalgia coming from Muskie’s sign.
I have no idea how long Muskie’s has been open. The sign won’t tell me. I didn’t have time to check when I found the place online. I am a terrible journalist[3]. But it doesn’t matter how long it’s been here. Muskie’s is designed to be a classic “burger joint”. Small enough to keep people from lingering. Enough counter space to seat a small army. Plastic baskets. Paper lining. This isn’t a fast food burger place. This is a “burger joint”.
I order a bacon cheeseburger, an order of fries and a medium coke. Then, intrigued, I order some of their “Mac ‘N Cheese” bites. The total is $12.86. Like I said, this place is a “burger joint”.
I grab a stool at one corner of the restaurant, opposite you’re classic “sexy librarian”. Whole nine yards, loose ponytail, glasses, textbook with notes. It’s getting warm in here. At least, in the corner, it’s warm. Then I start to get this lovely scent. This meaty, greasy, burning scent. I realize I am sitting under the heat vent. And the heat smells like burgers. Pretty soon, I will smell like burgers. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Not too much longer and my food is ready.
I try the burger first. I have to. It’s why I’m here. One bite is all it takes to know a good burger. If you ever find yourself unsure of a burger’s quality after one bite, then it’s not a good burger. This burger, is a good burger. You take one bite, you taste meat, bacon, cheese, medley of condiments. You always feel the bacon before the meat. But you always taste the meat first. That’s how it works. The cooks back there know that. The girl at the other end of the joint knows it, too. No one studies in a “burger joint” unless they really love burgers. Her order came before mine. Bacon cheeseburger, too. I like a pretty girl that eats bacon, nonchalantly. Because any girl can eat bacon. But if she’s pretty, then she either knows how to eat or she’s splurging. If she’s splurging, then she’s going to be slobbering over that bacon. She’s going to be making sure she doesn’t miss a single bit and will probably say something to someone along the lines of “isn’t this bacon so good? I’m splurging.” Splurgers tell you that they’re splurging, in the name of saving face. She’s not splurging. She’s eating the bacon cheeseburger like it was a peanut butter and jelly. I respect that. It’s how I eat a bacon cheeseburger. Of course, I say none of this to her.
I then remember that I ordered the Mac ‘N Cheese Bites. I was not prepared for these. These are, literally, just Kraft blue box Mac ‘N Cheese, fried. I’m used to my fried cheeses having a stronger, sharper flavor. These do not. They are surprisingly creamy. Like biting into a McNugget and being greeted by Kraft Mac ‘N Cheese. I would’ve eaten more of them but the fries were phenomenal. Brown. Crispy on the outside. Bendy and tender on the inside. These are “burger joint” fries.
Overall, the meal was solid. If I lived closer, I’d probably be here regularly. But as it stands, I’ll come if I’m in the area. I finish the burger and most of the fries, bus my tray and make my exit. I have a film to review in about an hour and a half. I hail a cab. I get in and look out the passenger window. I lock eyes with sexy librarian. My cab speeds off. I have movies to see.
