While this shark is impressive, if I were to choose my attacker, this wouldn't cut it. Throw it back!The last weekend in July brought the arrival of the younger brother of the The Handfelt Happy Hour landlord, birth name Cory Handfelt, along with his wife by law, Gretchen and their two children of 2 and 4 years, Sienna and Griffin. Along for the ride were Sienna's blanket Ellie and Cory's rather crippling allergic reaction to Carmella.
Arriving on Saturday after dealing with Griffin's unfortunate bout of car sickness (I blame Cory's propensity for blasting Clay Aiken), we gorged ourselves on
Piatto Pronto before doffing our shirts and heading to Foster Beach. It was an slightly overcast day, but there were an unreasonable number of children there to keep the little ones occupied (I'm always amazed at the sort of unspoken bond that little kids can form with other little kids - it's both endearing and alarming) and enough shirtless Handfelts to keep the parents eyes occupied. After that, we headed back to house and grilled some skirt steak fajitas, which we paired with Iowa sweetcorn and beergaritas. Check please!
Sunday's activities consisted of a trip to the Shedd Aquarium and Navy Pier, the former of which proved to be more successful than the latter. The sharks, beluga whales, dolphins and Caribbean Reef display were all big hits with both the little ones and big ones alike, although I would have liked to see a trainer or two get attacked. Maybe next time. For dinner we managed to sneak in a good meal for the adults at
Big Jones, where their upscale burger is good enough to put Ronald McDonald on suicide watch.
The urban safari continued on Monday with a trip to the Lincoln Park Zoo, where various creatures of the furry variety were examined from a distance, with monkeys providing the chief form of entertainment, although it was the stoic cool of the tiger that won Griffin's heart and eventually translated into a stuffed animal purchase at the Gift Shop.
From there, the ladies all went for pizza while the men hopped aboard the choo choo (Griffin, undeterred by the powerful scent of humid urine, loved his first ride on the El Train) to Wrigley Field for the boy's first Cubs game. Our seats were nosebleeds, but the little one didn't care so long as we plied him with sugary sweets, pizza and decaffeinated soda. He lasted longer than we could have hoped, as we made it all the way to extra innings (10 innings!) and got home just in time to catch Alfonso Soriano's walk-off home run in the 13th to win it.
The gang all returned to Iowa on Tuesday morning, but good times were had by all (except for Cory's sinuses and general will to live) and the kids seemed to really enjoy their first foray into the big city. For a full video recap of their trip, click
here.
Sienna and Griffin at the Shedd Aquarium at some sort of seashell exhibit. Look at the girl in the pink checking out Griffin. Inappropriate, girl in pink! This is an Aquarium!
Cory and Griffin at the Cubs game. Cory is wearing a Pittsburgh Pirates shirt. No one razzed him for it, because honestly, they just feel sorry for him. 
Sienna looking ridiculously adorable in her stroller at Navy Pier.
Griffin: "Did somebody say 'ridiculously adorable'?"
Entrems Surtido: appetizer platter of cheesy quesadillas, crispy chicken taquitos with sour cream, tangy ceviche tostadas, crunchy jicama salad and guacamole.
Pato en Mole Negro: adobo-marinated Gunthorp duck breast in classic Oaxacan black mole (made from chilhuacle chiles and 28 other ingredients). Black bean tamales, garlicky braised black kale. To drink, a margarita followed up by a Michelada. Yes. Oh yes. A table of out-of-town cougars sitting next to us asked if they could watch me eat it. A bit kinky, but I agreed via an awkward laugh none-the-less.
They don't list desert on the online menu, but this was some cherry tart/pastry with a goat cheese ice cream. That last part may sound sketchy, but it was great. I'm no scientist, but the acidity of the cherries worked wonders with the tanginess of the goat cheese in a way that no dumb goat could ever imagine.
