Food Critic

So Chicago has some pretty lofty credentials in the food world. I know this because I watch Anthony Bourdain. We have some legitimate pull. Our chefs rank high on the charts, and we are close to New York for the best food city in the country. I live in this city. I reside here. I spend my night life on the streets that boast this fine honor.

So where am I going for dinner tonight? The C.O.'s of Chicago. The trash-fancy bar that has sparkly leather seats and a padded (thing underneath the bar the your knees hit when you sit there). Sorry, there was no official way to say that. But, I am going to this guilty pleasure of a bar tonight for their Wednesday night deal: $3 flat bread pizzas and $1 Miller Lite bottles.

I have been there for this deal several times. Almost double digits. I've had every kind of flat bread pizza they have. I have never been disappointed. I always leave full. I always enjoy the meal. It's everything I need. And I would recommend it to anyone. Seriously.

Now I've been to some nice places and eaten some pricey and tasty food. It's nice to get out sometime and splurge on food I normally wouldn't eat. I like it. I don't love it, I like it.

This has all got me thinking... obviously. As it goes with most things, the more you get a feel for the higher level, the more the bottom of the chain looks worthless. So the more you get a taste of the top of the food chain, the more the average food looks inedible. So the more caviar you eat, the less you enjoy a hearty dish of easy mac. The more foi gras you dabble in, you spend a little less time in the frozen food section. The more mountain oysters you slurp down, the less you can tolerate hot pockets. Scratch that, no one should enjoy hot pockets. But you get my drift.

I am extremely pleased that cheap and filling makes me just as happy as any meal I can imagine. I don't mind that I don't have elite taste buds. Who the hell really wants to eat snail eggs? Seriously. Seriously. Tell me if you do. Leave a comment. Send a note. by all means.