The Chicago Dining World Tour: Muy Bueno Mexican Food, If Not a Wholly Satisfying Visit to an Old Favorite

Wholly Frijoles
Mexican
3908 W. Touhy, Lincolnwood
847.329.9810
WhollyFrijolesGrill.com
BYOB 

What I ate: Chile Relleno, Enchilada with mole Oaxaqueño, Chips & Salsa, Platanos y Mangos flameados

Mexican food is a cuisine I eat fairly frequently and there is no shortage of places to enjoy it in and around Chicago.

From Rick Bayless' snazzy Frontera Grill and Topolobampo to street corner taquerias that dot the local landscape, one can find tacos, burritos, fajitas and my favorite, chimichangas, at various levels of price and quality, with most being quite adequate in my book.

In just the last few weeks I've enjoyed savory meals at El Tipico in Skokie and Fiesta Mexicano in Uptown, as well as a cute little taco place in Northfield called Taco Nano.

I also solicited opinions on Facebook about some of my friends' favorite Mexican restaurants across Chicagoland. Among those cited were Chicago establishments The Little Mexican Cafe, El Barco, Zapatista, De Cero, El Tapatio and Pancho Pistolas, and Mago in Arlington Heights.

I trust all of these are well worth trying and I hope to do so one day.

But the restaurant I wanted to visit and spotlight for my Chicago Dining World Tour was one I had enjoyed several times, but not recently enough to immediately recall (it's likely been a couple years).

Wholly Frijoles is a single-location, family-owned establishment that occupies a double storefront on Touhy Ave. in Lincolnwood, just west of Crawford (Pulaski).

I've always found that their menu choices, food presentation and quality go well beyond standard-issue Mexican and merits Wholly Frijoles' local popularity, as both the parking lot and restaurant seem to be full anytime I visit.

Still, my friend and fellow Skokie resident, Bob, who accompanied me there last week, had never heard of the restaurant, and he's a big fan of Mexican eateries (including Taqueria el Ranchito near Clark & Wilson in Chicago).

Though we both had to find parking in the neighborhood near the restaurant (note that some of the nearby streets have parking restrictions), we were able to be seated upon arrival by a cute hostess.

Chips and salsa were brought to the table, with the chips being really good and the salsa fine but not particularly zesty.

Wholly Frijoles is BYOB--though does accept credit cards unlike some recent excursions on my dining tour--so without any margaritas to tempt us, Bob and I both opted for Diet Cokes.

We also forwent any appetizers, but our entrees both came with soup (Tortilla) or salad, and we each opted for the latter.

This was a chopped salad with a cream of cilantro dressing, and it was very tasty.

Between its regular menu and daily specials, Wholly Frijoles seems to have at least a few selections that go beyond the tried-and-true, but both Bob and I were content to explore their takes on commonplace items.

I got a combination plate with a Chile Relleno and an Enchilada with my choice of filling (Steak) and sauce (Mole Oaxaqueño). It came with a side of rice; I usually opt for no beans, but they weren't an option here.

Bob went with a Chicken Enchilada, also with the Mole Oaxaqueño sauce.

I am not being overly diplomatic nor deferential to say that we both enjoyed our meals, with Bob offering that he would gladly return.

And as you can see, the presentation at Wholly Frijoles is kind of spiffy. 

So I happily recommend it to anyone seeking out a local Mexican joint that's a cut above the norm.

But I think it only fair to note that while more than credible and edible, the Chile Relleno did not impress me quite as much as one I'd recently had at El Tipico (on Dempster near McCormick in Skokie).

More troubling were the noise level in the restaurant and the sluggish speed of service.

As I noted above, Wholly Frijoles does a high-volume business in a fairly intimate space, and that's great. But the volume of the patron conversations was ear-splitting to the point that Bob and I practically had to yell to speak with each other across the same table.

And while we weren't in a major hurry, Bob did have plans to get to a show at The Old Town School of Folk Music, and the time between our salads and entrees seemed excessively long.

I don't mean to be too disparaging about a place that I've long liked, but feel these issues were significant enough to point out.

Not reason enough to avoid an otherwise wholly satisfying meal at Wholly Frijoles, but you may wish to bring ear plugs and only go when time is not of the essence.

Fortunately, our main courses were cleared with enough time for me to forage into the dessert menu, opting for Platanos y Mangos flameados, which translates to Bananas & Mangos sautéed and flamed served with vanilla ice cream.

I can't recall ever having mangos with ice cream and I certainly didn't let any of the sweet concoction go to waste. (Bob abstained from ordering dessert and declined to try mine.) But a bit like the entire meal this night at Wholly Frijoles, the dessert wasn't quite as thrilling as I'd expected.

Nonetheless I'll happily return and was pleased to note that not only did Bob like his meal, but other patrons openly expressed how much they enjoyed theirs.

But with a number of other appealing Mexican dining options cited by friends, I look forward to trying somewhere new before likely saying 'hola' to Wholly Frijoles once again.

Attending a Taping of 'America's Got Talent' is Enjoyable Enough, But Leaves Me Unconvinced

I have never been a fan of so-called reality TV in any form, including popular talent competition shows such as American Idol, The Voice and America's Got Talent.

I don't need to belabor this opinion here, especially as my familiarity with the shows is admittedly rather scant, but suffice it to say I've never much liked what I've seen.

This has as much to do with the whole concept, presentation, format and judging of these shows as it has to do with the talent auditioning, but with all due respect to people like Kelly Clarkson, Jennifer Hudson and Carrie Underwood, my sense is that I can see many performers who are just as talented, dedicated and polished in storefront theaters, small music & comedy clubs and college recital halls.

So you may wonder why I jumped at the chance to attend a taping of America's Got Talent Wednesday afternoon at the Rosemont Theatre.

Though this is seemingly one of those things you're not supposed to openly admit, I am unabashedly and unapologetically a fan of Howard Stern, as I have been for many years.

I will not belabor this opinion either, especially as I've written at length about why I so enjoy Stern's radio
program, currently heard on Sirius XM satellite radio.

Last year Stern became a judge on America's Got Talent, taking over for Piers Morgan. Due to how much he talked about it on his radio program, I felt compelled to watch the King of all Media's latest foray into television.

Even with Howard being the best thing about AGT and similar shows that I'd yet seen, it took all of about 15 minutes of his first episode for it to be reiterated why I hate reality TV talent competitions.

So I remain far from a convert, but with free tickets offered to the six tapings in Rosemont and the rare chance to see Howard Stern in Chicago, I grabbed tickets to the Wednesday afternoon and evening tapings.

Despite the $13 in parking, long lines of people waiting to get in and about 7 hours devoted to a Noon-4pm taping, during which only about 90 minutes featured auditioning acts, I have to admit that I enjoyed being there.

But not enough not to have decided early on that I really didn't need to stay for the second taping of the day.

And not enough to become any kind of fan of America's Got Talent.

Or to be convinced--based on the acts that auditioned, despite my having great regard for their efforts, dedication and courage--that the show's title statement is indeed true.

Not shocking given my reason for being there, my favorite part was seeing and hearing Howard Stern, both in his fair-minded but sometimes risqué critiques of the performers and a couple of occasions when he directly addressed the crowd, as below (though if you're not already a Stern fan, I doubt this will convince you).


While I'm not a major fan of any of them individually, it was also part of the fun to see AGT host Nick Cannon (who appeared onstage for all of about 3 minutes) and Stern's fellow judges Howie Mandel, Mel B (of the Spice Girls) and supermodel Heidi Klum.

No disrespect to them, but other than Howard and a couple of the auditioning acts, the most entertaining
person for me was emcee Frank Nicotero, who if not outright hilarious, affably helped the time pass by.

I don't know what the official restrictions are on audience members of a taping of a show not likely to air until sometime in July, but I think it proper to refrain from giving any details about who auditioned, how many acts were sent on to the next round and which ones.

But except for appreciating that most of those auditioning had unique talent of some kind, and applauding their guts to openly invite public ridicule, I was far from impressed.

My basic understanding is that the winner of America's Got Talent gets $1 million and a headlining show in Las Vegas.

So for me, the standard for "Should they continue on?" isn't "Are they talented?" or even "Is it conceivable that people would gather 'round in a park and watch the act do their thing?"

That is almost entirely different than asking, "Would you pay at least $50 to see them perform in Las Vegas (or the Rosemont Theatre, or any venue) for an hour or more?"

With that barometer, I would say that even with the low percentage of acts that Howard, Howie, Heidi and Mel B. gave at least 3 votes out of 4 and allowed to keep following their AGT dreams, the ones that did "survive" do not meet the above criteria.

Nor likely for that matter, did last season's winner--of which I'm only aware due to Stern--the Olate Dogs. Fun? Cool to watch? Sure. But worthy of a Vegas show? Perhaps, but not for me.

So while being in the audience for America's Got Talent was a more than adequate way to spend a Wednesday afternoon, it did absolutely nothing to change my mind about the show, or its brethren.

Nonetheless, I remain thoroughly convinced that America has tons of talent.

But as to whether it will filter its way through shows like AGT, I have to vote "No."

Pithy Philosophies - #5

Seth Saith:

If it won't matter tomorrow,
it don't matter
today.

Oh What a Beautiful Day: 'Oklahoma' at the Lyric Opera Goes a Country Mile Beyond Just OK

Theater / Opera Review

Oklahoma
Lyric Opera, Chicago
Thru May 19
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I have great respect and appreciation for opera in the traditional sense. I acknowledge that it has been a great art form for hundreds of years, and have seen more than 40 operas, most by Chicago's esteemed Lyric Opera.

But though I have enjoyed many of the classic operas--La Boheme, La Traviata, Carmen, Madama Butterfly, Don Giovanni, Aida, The Magic Flute, The Merry Widow, Tosca and more--I can't pretend they have evoked the same emotional connection or sense of exhilaration as the best of Broadway or rock 'n roll.

So while I understand the devotion many among the Lyric's loyal subscriber base have for the traditional classics, and fully realize that there are many more outlets around Chicagoland for musical theater than for opera, I love it when a Broadway masterpiece is presented as part of the canon at the Civic Opera House.

And I hope that with a glorious rendition of Rodgers & Hammerstein's Oklahoma coming the year after a similarly sublime take on Show Boat--featuring the same leading lady, Ashley Brown--the powers that be at the Lyric will opt to include a "musical" in each of its coming seasons. Despite the fact that they haven't for the 2013-2014 season. But in truth Oklahoma was an add-on to the 2012-2013 campaign, not part of the subscriber options.

So maybe that's the happy medium: don't make opera subscribers see a musical--albeit done operatically--if that's not their preference, but put an à la carte operatic twist on Les Miserables, West Side Story, The Music Man, Phantom of the Opera, Sunday in the Park with George, Fiddler on the Roof, South Pacific, The Sound of Music and other Broadway vanguards that could fit well into the venerated opera house. (Besides Show Boat and Gershwin's operatic-to-begin-with Porgy & Bess, Sondheim's Sweeney Todd in 2002 is the only musical to have been presented at the Lyric since I began paying attention.)

I am not saying the Lyric should do more musicals (as operas) simply because I like them better; that would be silly.

But while I respect the typical tenets of traditional opera--singing in Italian or German, with booming bass and baritone voices, lengthy arias, Baroque costuming, etc., etc.--given that the Oxford English Dictionary defines opera as a dramatic musical work in which singing forms an essential part, I'm not sure why the legendary musicals (in particular) can't be construed as "opera."

And given that a production of a 70-year-old musical brought a full house to the Civic with an average age a good 30-40 years younger than the norm, I would suggest that if the Lyric wants to survive and thrive beyond its current crop of subscribers, it needs to include more musicals, even if only as an introduction to the operatic art.

Which brings me back to Oklahoma, where the winds go whipping down the plain.

With the caveat that perhaps I didn't note every nuance in the acting from my perch at the very top of the house--as I do at, say, Light Opera Works, which did an amazing version of Rodgers & Hammerstein's Carousel a couple years ago--I couldn't have wanted Oklahoma to be any more pleasing than it was.

John Cudia, a veteran of lead roles in Phantom of the Opera and Les Miserables on Broadway, and who I'd seen dazzle in the latter show at Marriott Theatre Lincolnshire, was terrific as Curly. While his voice wasn't truly operatic, in a way that would have seemed strange for an Oklahoma cowboy, and Cudia's pipes were powerful enough.

And Ashley Brown, who starred as Mary Poppins on Broadway and on tour in Chicago, was wonderfully well-sung as Laurey, the love interest of Curly, but also Jud Fry (David Adam Moore).

Also quite good as Ado Annie and Will Parker are Tari Kelly and Curtis Holbrook, both with solid Broadway credits, while baritone Moore provided Jud with a voice as imposing as his character.

And a lot of fun for me was seeing local theater stalwarts like Paula Scrofano (excellent as Aunt Eller), Usman Ally (hilarious as peddler Ali Hakim), Matt DeCaro (Annie's father) and others shine upon the opera stage.

With a vast and excellent ensemble, the blissful Lyric orchestra, wonderful costumes, re-enactment of the original dances by Agnes De Mille, impressive-enough sets and strong direction from Gary Griffin--who has helmed all of the awesome Sondheim musicals produced at Chicago Shakespeare Theater--everything about this Oklahoma was A-OK and then some.

Especially in contrast to recently-in-Chicago newer musicals like Big Fish and Catch Me If You Can, Oklahoma has a sublime score full of songs that keep you smiling from beginning to end.

"Oh What a Beautiful Morning," "The Surrey with the Fringe on Top," "Kansas City," "I Cain't Say No," "People Will Say Were in Love," the title song and many other gems were magnificently rendered.

And with the lyrics projected as supertitles--as is custom at the Lyric, typically to translate the foreign languages--I was again reminded of just how progressive Rodgers and Hammerstein were, contrary to any previous assumptions.

When it's been awhile since I've seen one of their shows, it's easy for me to think of R&H's genre-defining works as being a bit too populist and quaint. But as I noted in reviewing a superb touring version of South Pacific last year, there's really a lot of verve to their subject matter, dialogue (especially between-the-lines) and Hammerstein's lyrics.

While I've tended to perceive the literate nature and sophisticated rhymes of Stephen Sondheim's lyrics as a step advanced, being able to read along with Oklahoma's songs on the screen above the stage helped me to better appreciate just how terrific Hammerstein was, and the influence he clearly had as Sondheim's mentor.

Although preceded in its creation by glorious book musicals like Show Boat (for which Hammerstein wrote the lyrics, working with composer Jerome Kern) and Cole Porter's Anything Goes, which I just saw and loved, Oklahoma helped the musical theater form take a quantum leap forward, and without getting too wonky, I can see where bits of it--like the extended dream ballet sequence--influenced similar pieces in West Side Story and the movie Singin' in the Rain.

70 years down the road, it remains one of the great works of American artistry. Whether it belongs, or is best rendered, within an opera's repertoire is a debate others can have, but watching it Sunday afternoon from the upper balcony of the stately Civic Opera House, accompanied by two of my dearest friends, there was truly nowhere else I would rather be than Oklahoma. OK.
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Note: Ticket discount service Goldstar is offering discounted tickets for most performances of Oklahoma. I availed myself of these tickets as did seemingly many other patrons on Sunday. Goldstar requires registration and charges a per-ticket fee, but there is no other cost or catch to using this valuable service.

50 Brides for 50 Cousins: Strawdog's 'Big Love' Introduces Mee to Someone New -- Chicago Theater Review

Theater Review

Big Love
a play by Charles L. Mee
Strawdog Theatre Company, Chicago
Thru May 25
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Whenever I travel, I always appreciate--and often heed--when a friend says something like:

"I have a cousin who runs a store in (so and so). You should check it out."

or

"There's an awesome ice cream place over near (place). Try to get to it."

While I enjoy talking to locals and, certainly, eating great ice cream, following suggestions like the above tends to be most fulfilling simply for taking me off the beaten path.

What I discover along the way is often more gratifying than tourbook recommendations, and may even be better than the acute reason for taking the diversion.

This isn't a perfect analogy or explanation for why I saw Big Love at Chicago's intimate Strawdog Theatre on Friday night, but definitely has some relevance.

Although I see loads of theater of all kinds and levels, at venues large and small in Chicago, the suburbs and beyond, I doubt I would have much noticed, let alone seen, the play by Charles L. Mee had a friend not been in the ensemble (and one I'd only recently reconnected with at that).

But I'm glad I did.

And not just because it afforded me the pleasant opportunity to see my friend both onstage and off.

I'll let Wikipedia provide an overview of Big Love author Charles L. Mee, and defer to the Chicago Tribune review by Kerry Reid for a bigger picture assessment of this production.

In fact, it's only because of Reid that I'm aware that the play is "Mee's takeoff on Aeschylus' The Suppliant Women."

Though I was not heretofore familiar with Mee, or even beyond the name, Strawdog Theatre Company, I genuinely enjoyed Big Love for a variety of reasons, including not in the least, pure entertainment value. 

The show centers around 50 sisters who flee Greece for Italy in order to avoid a mass forced marriage to their 50 cousins, whose prior excursion to America has added to their loutishness; they too wind up in Italy.

As performed in Strawdog's intimate second floor space at 3829 N. Broadway, this cast of Big Love includes only 12 brides and 12 grooms--unless I've miscounted--with most of the action revolving around three of each.

Stacy Stoltz, Michaela Petro and Sarah Goeden excellently embody the primary brides-to-be; defiant but wistful Lydia, seething yet self-aware Thyona and unapologetically romantic Olympia. They are matched, and to some extent paralleled, by Nikos (John Ferrick), Constantine (Shane Kenyon) and Oed (Kyle A. Gibson).

Other than to reveal that upon arriving in Italy, the runaway brides seek refuge with the help of heretofore unknown locals Giuliano (Paul Fagen), Piero (John Henry Roberts) and Bella (Cheryl Roy), I think it best to leave the details for you to discover, even if merely through freely reading Big Love on Mee's website.

While the format and composition of Big Love leans toward the unique compared to most plays I see and enjoy, it was neither too abstract nor avant garde to digest comfortably.

The fine acting, from the core characters through the entire ensemble, makes the drama pleasurable to watch over 95 minutes, as very much does the accompaniment of pianist Dane Halvorson, who performs a variety of love songs before, throughout and at the end of the show. And while this isn't to be confused with a musical, an offbeat vocal rendition of "Call Me Maybe" and a P.A.-pumping "Highway to Hell"--among other anachronistic choices--infuse Matt Hawkins' production with imagination, charm and verve reminiscent of Baz Luhrmann movies.

Though I wouldn't really venture to guess the meaning Mee was intending for me to derive from the narrative--which I understand director Hawkins to have adjusted a bit--I appreciate the way it caused me to think about how love, marriage, freedom, choice and/or the lack thereof intersect in various societies, including our own.

Given that Big Love premiered in 2000, I can't surmise if Mee was reflecting on any specific cultures that keep women subservient, those in which arranged marriages are the norm (to happy and unhappy outcomes), places in which love among cousins isn't considered icky and/or the much-in-today's-news (to me, non-) issue of gay marriage, but I can see how Big Love can take on different shapes and colors when viewed through one's own prism. 

If nothing else, it's yet another excellent example of the type of skill and dedication regularly and impressively on display at storefront venues (and the like) throughout Chicago--in Strawdog's case for 25 seasons now.

Especially with low-priced tickets available for most performances through HotTix, even if I only fortuitously stumbled upon it myself, I'm happy to suggest that Big Love is well worth your time and affection.

The Chicago Dining World Tour: A Friendly Foray Into Vietnam, with No Pho

New Saigon
Vietnamese
5000 N Broadway, Chicago
773.334.332
Menu Pages
Note: Cash Only

What I ate: Tom Cuon (shrimp rolls), Mi Xao Don Thit Heo (crispy yellow noodle with pork), Bo Xao Dau Hoa Lan (stir-fried beef with pea pods)

Given my aim to explore a variety of cultural cuisines--many largely or entirely new to me--it would seem that if one has a particularly emblematic dish, I should choose to try and spotlight it.

Prior to the present occasion, I would guess I've eaten Vietnamese food fewer than five times in my life--almost all of them before a concert in the Lawrence and Broadway corridor (i.e. Uptown), whether at the Riviera, Aragon or Green Mill.

Just a bit north on Broadway, clustered near--and also east on--Argyle St. are a number of Asian restaurants, several of them Vietnamese.

On each previous dining occasion that I recall, I was convinced to order Pho--a large soup bowl containing the
protein of one's choice and several vegetables--which is to Vietnamese food seemingly what Pad Thai is to Thai food; i.e. the quintessential dish, at least as digested in America.

Although I've never found Pho distasteful, I have also never found it to be delicious. Perhaps this is due to not being all that excited by vegetables, but eating Pho for me entails fishing around a bland soup broth to find a few bland pieces of beef or pork.

So in being no great friend of Pho, in looking for a local Vietnamese restaurant to visit for my Chicago Dining World Tour, I was impressed by the vastness of the New Saigon menu. While they certainly do have Pho, they have a rather vast array of other dishes as well (which, to be fair, so may many of their Uptown neighbors).

Last Sunday, after a nice time touring around Hyde Park with my mom, and knowing of no uniquely ethnic restaurants in that area to try, we decided to take LSD to Lawrence for an exploration of Vietnamese food at New Saigon.

We arrived at 5000 N. Broadway around 5:00 to find easy seating despite one table being occupied by about 20 guests, and a couple others in use.

We were greeted by a very friendly man--I wouldn't be shocked if he was the owner--who was singlehandedly handling all front-of-house duties, and likely assisting in the kitchen as well.

For an appetizer, we ordered, as shown: Tom Cuon = shrimp, noodle and vegetables rolled in rice paper served with peanut sauce.

These were good, especially given the dipping sauce, but I can't say they were better than fried Egg Rolls or spring rolls--either soft or fried--of the Thai variety.

For an entree, even without Pho in the equation, I changed my mind about four times before settling on Mi Xao Don Thit Heo = crispy yellow noodle with pork. 

A solid portion cost just $6.50 and what made it quite enjoyable was the flavoring of the crispy noodles, which when combined with their texture, brought life to the mildness of the pork and vegetables.

Still not the greatest thing I've ever tasted, but I liked it more than Pho and would more happily revisit it sometime down the road.

My mom ordered Bo Xao Dau Hoa Lan = stir-fried beef with pea pods, served with rice.

She also was sufficiently satisfied by it as an inexpensive dinner of which she took half home for later--combined, our total check at yet another Cash Only restaurant (1, 2) was just $20--but seemed unlikely to be writing books, or even blog posts, about how extraordinary it was.

Perhaps the most acutely enjoyable aspect of my meal at New Saigon--except for the company of course--I almost miscued my way out of.

Initially, when the waiter/owner(?)/host/cashier asked us about drinks, I ordered a Diet Coke, almost by default.

But before it came, I noticed the menu offered Fruit Shakes, in the flavors of Avocado, Pineapple, Jackfruit and Guanabana. No offense to the other, more exotic varieties, but with Pineapple being among my favorite of all flavors, this sounded really good, especially for just $2.00.

Fortunately, the Diet Coke arrived in an unopened can, so I was able to send it back in favor of Sinh To Thom, the pineapple shake.

I couldn't quite guess at what accompanied the pineapple flavoring, but the consistency was not that of a milkshake, smoothie, Slurpee or lassi, despite having a good amount of thickness.

But it was quite good, and while the service, price, crispy noodles, exploratory aspect and hanging out with my mom made this visit to New Saigon pleasurable, the Pineapple Shake is likely what would most move me to return.

Firing of Susannah Collins Makes CSN Look Like Really Bad Sports

The world's biggest banks conspire to fix prices on interest rate swaps, essentially rigging a $379 billion market and providing fodder for yet another terrific Matt Taibbi tome?

Yawn.

A local TV sports channel fires a pretty female reporter?

Dammit, I'm grabbing my pitchfork, along with thousands of others across social media and the blogosphere.

But in one sense, both of the above can be seen as the same story: big shots ruling the world, getting away with capricious, often corrupt (or at least hypocritical) behavior and good people getting crushed under the weight of the corporatocracy.

Which is quite a pompous preamble to expressing my outrage over CSN's firing of Susannah Collins, depriving Chicago Blackhawks fans the pleasure of seeing her informative reports, fun interviews and, yes, attractive visage during the remainder of the Stanley Cup Playoffs.

In case you've been sleeping under a rock, or are just oblivious to things you're oblivious to, Susannah Collins is--err, was--a sideline reporter, occasional anchor and Gas Money (a local quiz-the-public-about-sports game show of sorts) co-host for Comcast Sports Net, which broadcasts numerous Hawks, Bulls, Cubs and Sox games.

Last year, she essentially replaced Sarah Kustok, also a quite attractive and eminently professional reporter. I swear it wasn't just the Neanderthal in me that rued Kustok's departure to New York; I found her to be terrifically good at her job, which largely involved interviewing players immediately after games.

When Collins arrived, it was--sexist as it may sound--easy to think that CSN's primary criteria for replacing a beautiful female sideline reporter was to provide their large male audience with another piece of eye candy.

But with her buoyantly engaging demeanor and stellar postgame questions, Collins soon proved that good looks, charisma, intelligence and deep sports knowledge are--for a woman--only mutually exclusive in the minds of morons.

In other words, Susannah Collins was truly good at her job and very pretty.

And what I also like about her is the way she seems to take her role seriously, but not it--or herself--too seriously. After all, she is covering sports, not war.

Well, Tuesday night, before the Blackhawks' first playoff game, Susannah Collins made national news for doing this:



A momentary gaffe, which didn't violate FCC standards, that she instantly corrected, apologized for on Twitter and--as it began to go viral--took in stride by tweeting: Thanks for laughing along with me & my "tremendous" slip, guys. Who couldn't use a good chuckle every now & then right?? #Whoops

With the attention cycle seemingly about to wind down on an embarrassing but not in any way detrimental miscue--or likely a false one, the Blackhawks presumably did have a tremendous amount of sex during this lockout-delayed, unprecedentedly successful-to-begin season--last night the Tribune reported that Collins and CSN had parted ways.

The news soon spread like wildfire on Twitter, with nearly every tweet I've seen condemning CSN for their actions (which one assumes to be a firing, if not explicitly announced as such). And as of now, the story remains the top news item on the Chicago Tribune website.

As far as I understand it, the "there's more to the story" part of this is that CSN--and/or has been insinuated, the Blackhawks--was supposedly concerned that Collins' new notoriety would bring greater prominence to a series of sports comedy videos she had done a few years ago called Sports Nutz.

I've now seen a few Sports Nutz clips and while not mortally offended, I can see where they were perhaps overly risqué, possibly in poor taste to those with certain sensibilities and likely--seen through a rearview mirror--not displaying the best judgment.

But as revealed a month ago in an interview with Paul M. Banks of Chicago Sports Media Watch, the Sports Nutz clips--which do demonstrate Collins' likable personality--are what got her noticed, and eventually the job with CSN.

So as Banks conveys in a post about Collins' termination, it seems like B.S. to suddenly hold Sports Nutz against her, due to a millisecond flub that got CSN oodles of national exposure.

If CSN claims they didn't know about Sports Nutz upon hiring Collins, not only would this appear fictitious, but it's on them for not properly vetting--or even bothering to Google--her.

And assuming CSN knew about Sports Nutz all along, why dump Collins now, when they most need her talents to liven their Blackhawks coverage?

While I would've loved to have interviewed her for this blog--and still would--I don't know Susannah Collins.

I also don't endorse everything she did on Sports Nutz, but also can't say I perceived any overt malice on her part, and find the clips--now much, much more known due to CSN's actions--largely irrelevant, especially as any offenses should be weighed against the talent, initiative and verve demonstrated in creating them.

Do people hold SNL cast members' feet to the fire for every skit that may be a touch misguided?

And as much as I often have to explain to non-fans (mostly those who have never listened) that Howard Stern really isn't all that bawdy much of the time--and when he is, I'm an adult with the freedom of choice--in being a longtime listener I've come to know that even Howard would admit that not everything one says and does looks wonderful in retrospect.

In other words, while I would hope Susannah Collins would respect the feelings of anyone truly offended by anything she did on Sports Nutz, or even her flub the other night, based on what I know, I don't think she has anything to apologize for nor be ashamed of.

I even surmise that the fun, self-deprecating persona she showed--and likely honed--through Sports Nutz is what made her so good on CSN, largely on behalf of the Blackhawks. She clearly loved her job, and again, beyond finding her attractive, I genuinely think she was really good at it (and is quite likely to land somewhere even better soon). 

So her firing seems not only unfortunate, petty, harsh and shortsighted, but rather silly. 

And also--given this sage tweet by The Score's often quite insightful Dan Bernstein--rather hypocritical:

The Chicago Dining World Tour: A Terrifically Tasty, Albeit a Bit Abbreviated, Exploration on the Irving Park Road to Morocco

Shokran
Moroccan
4027 W. Irving Park Rd., Chicago
773.427.9130
www.shokranchicago.com
Note: Cash only and BYOB

What I ate: Merguez, Taktouka, Sweet Lamb Couscous, Pita Bread

Irving Park Road is the first exit after the Edens Expressway merges with the Kennedy.

To get to one event or another, I take Irving Park and head east on it likely a dozen or more times each year.

Shokran, a Moroccan restaurant I discovered online, is the first storefront east of the Irving Park exit, on the south side of the street. I've never noticed it, and was I not seeking it out as part of my Chicago Dining World Tour, I'm guessing I never would have.

So I'm happy that my local global dining initiative helped me to quite literally discover a restaurant that for the most part provided a tremendous experience for me and my friend Ken.

We got to Shokran shortly after 5:00pm--me straight from seeing the musical Barnum--and were the first patrons at the small (10 tables) but attractively appointed restaurant. We did not have a reservation, nor did it seem like we needed one.

A pleasant waiter greeted us, seated us and provided some appreciated menu guidance.

We started with a pair of $5 appetizers; one hot: Merguez = homemade beef and lamb sausage and one cold: Taktouka = roasted green peppers and tomatoes flavored with virgin olive oil and special Moroccan spices.

The Taktouka arrived first, almost in conjunction with a complimentary basket of pita bread, a dish of olives and some hot sauce (which really wasn't all that spicy). The green pepper & tomato concoction worked wonderfully with the fresh pita, and though I'm not typically a fan of olives, I also enjoyed loading up other pieces of pita bread with them and the hot sauce.

The Merguez looked like breakfast sausages and were accompanied by Dijon mustard. They were good but not nearly as captivating as the Taktouka.

Ken has now accompanied me on several Dining Tour excursions--Greek, Ukrainian, Peruvian, Polish, Italian--and especially in understanding my exploratory and expository aims, he usually orders something different so that I can have a second entree to photograph, reference and often share.

But at Shokran, we both locked in on--and ordered--the same entree: Sweet Lamb Couscous.

Per the menu, couscous is made from small grains of semolina, coated with finely ground wheat flour. Couscous dishes at Shokran include Lamb, Sweet Lamb, Chicken, Sweet Chicken, Merguez, Vegetarian and Royal, a combination of lamb, chicken and merguez.

The Sweet Lamb selection is described as braised lamb shank over a bed of couscous with carmelized onions, raisins and roasted almonds.

It was every bit as good as it sounds, and Ken and I devoured everything on our plates except the bone.

Over the course of my gastro-ethnic undertaking this year, I have enjoyed many scintillating and distinctive meals, and the Sweet Lamb Couscous at Shokran ranks up there with any of them.

So certainly, I recommend trying the Moroccan restaurant, on a weeknight or, as we learned, with a reservation on Friday or Saturday. And be aware that it is BYOB and, like I similarly discovered at the Costa Rican Irazu, cash only (with an ATM inside).

For although our meal up to this point was ideal, things became a little less than perfect.

It was around 6:20 and we were done with our entrees. Ken usually likes coffee and we would've considered dessert had we been offered any (I still have no idea what Shokran has for dessert, if anything).

I realize the waiter didn't know this, but my parking meter across Irving Park was expiring at 6:45, so it's not as if we were planning to stay all night. But with 4 or 5 of the 10 tables still empty, without offering us coffee or dessert, he said that we'd have to leave as there were people with reservations coming in.

So after making a point of finding and trying Shokran, being the first patrons to arrive, getting 2 appetizers, 2 entrees and 2 Diet Cokes, we were essentially given the heave ho.

And then reminded of the sign on the door that says "Cash Only."

Fortunately, we didn't have to reach out to Rick Blaine to get us out of this Moroccan jam, as we cobbled together enough cash to pay the bill without incurring likely lofty ATM fees.

After paying the check, and deciding to go to Julius Meinl for coffee and dessert, with no other patrons having come in and several tables sitting empty, the waiter then told us that they'd had a cancellation and we were welcome to stay.

We didn't.

'Barnum' Not Just For Suckers, Even If Not Quite the Greatest Show on Earth -- Chicago Theater Review

Theater Review

Barnum
Music by Cy Coleman, lyrics by Michael Stewart
Directed by L. Walter Stearns
Mercury Theater, Chicago
Thru June 16
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I wanted to see the rarely staged musical, Barnum, largely for nostalgic reasons.

Not because I had previously seen a production of "the circus musical" about Phineas Taylor (P.T.) Barnum, which bowed on Broadway in 1980.

And not due to any overt sentimentality for the circus that in part bears Barnum's name.

Strange as it may sound, I just distinctly remember the original cast recording being an album that resided in the record cabinet at my family's home.

It isn't even that I listened to it much, if at all. Maybe due to its title, the record was at the very front of my dad's collection of Broadway albums, or perhaps the bright yellow cover heralding star Jim Dale was that powerfully iconic. But for whatever weird reason, when I noted that the Mercury Theater was staging the show--as part of the venue's recent foray into self-producing musicals--it brought a reminiscense of inherent interest.

Of course, there were more direct reasons for my wanting to see Barnum, not that it ever takes much for me to explore a musical I've yet to witness.

- Though the musical had a strong initial Broadway run--854 performances--and was nominated for the 1980 Tony (it lost to Evita, deservingly), I have never noted it being performed at any level, anywhere since I started heavily paying interest to musical theater around 1999.

- The show has at least a couple top notch songs that I fondly recalled and recently rediscovered through Spotify: "There Is A Sucker Born Ev'ry Minute" and "Come Follow the Band."

- The Mercury's robust, largely-Equity cast stars three terrific local performers I've seen and liked in several other shows: Gene Weygandt, Cory Goodrich and Summer Naomi Smart.

- I applaud the Mercury's seemingly risky decision to start producing its own musicals, rather than simply renting out the venue.

- And while Chris Jones' review in the Tribune wasn't completely glowing, it is positive and champions the efforts of director L. Walter Stearns and his crew to shoehorn a show that includes circus acts into a relatively small space.

So between wanting to support an ambitious effort, warmly remembering an old record album and being able to get a half-price ticket on Goldstar (the show has also been on HotTix), last Saturday I wandered down to the Mercury on Southport, just steps from the Music Box Theater.

Though I could have done without the clowns climbing over audience members pre-show--the one on stilts in the lobby was pretty cool--Barnum turned out to be a highly enjoyable and admirable production of a good but not quite fantastic musical.

Weygandt, who was the Wizard of Oz in the long-running Chicago production of Wicked and stellar in shows such as Working and Snapshots, among others, is perfectly cast as P.T. Barnum and terrific throughout.

In watching him cover Barnum's life as an impresario--largely before he connected with James Anthony Bailey late in life--it was hard to imagine anyone being much better suited for the leading role.

Weygant was well-sung and lest anyone--OK, me--wonder whether a performer can be quite as good at a Saturday matinee following a show the night before and preceding an evening performance, he and the rest of the cast consistently made me feel that this was the one and only performance they were giving.

Goodrich plays Barnum's ever-tolerant but exasperated wife, Chairy, and their relationship forms the closest thing to a contextual storyline aside from Mark Bramble's book being a cursory biography of the showman's life from the 1830s through the 1880s.

And while the ravishing Smart is onstage throughout alongside the circus/sideshow troupe, she is also featured as Jenny Lind, a Swedish opera singer Barnum promoted in America. This allows her to demonstrate her lovely voice on "Love Makes Fools of Us All."

While the three stars are impressive, so too are the circus performers, including clowns, acrobats and ones embodying Tom Thumb, the world's smallest man (Christian Libonati) and Joyce Heth, the world's oldest lady (Donica Lynn).

Between the acrobatics, biographical overview, strong performances and a some terrific songs by the legendary composer Cy Coleman (he also wrote Sweet Charity, City of Angels, The Will Rogers Follies and other musicals) and lyricist Michael Stewart, Barnum makes for a rather pleasing 135 minutes and is well-worth recommending.

Especially, because of hummable tunes like "There's A Sucker Born Ev'ry Minute," "Come Follow The Band," "Bigger Isn't Better," "Out There" and "The Colors of My Life," I think Barnum outshines the in-Chicago-on-its-way-to Broadway Big Fish and the recently-here Catch Me If You Can.

All this said, in viewing Barnum for the first time, I never felt I was watching a @@@@@, truly top-tier musical.

Not every song was a rock-solid winner and the biographical synopsis of P.T. Barnum was a bit slight and sketchy at parts.

So while excellent, I wouldn't quite declare Barnum "must see" for those without any sentimental connection.

If you can get to the Mercury and support this impressive big-top undertaking, particularly with half-price tickets, I'm certain you'll find plenty to enjoy.

But, re: the famous slogan of Ringling Bros. and Barnum & Bailey Circus, you may not find it quite the greatest show on Earth.

Hyde Park and Seek: Photographic Proof That I Went to the University of Chicago (at least for a day as a tourist)

I had a very nice day yesterday with my mom in Chicago's Hyde Park neighborhood, home to the University of Chicago.

Below is a photo recap, covering:

• Robie House, designed by Frank Lloyd Wright - We took a tour but interior photos were not allowed
• Rockefeller Chapel
• Oriental Institute Museum
• Smart Museum of Art
• Various sights around campus, including Henry Moore's Nuclear Energy sculpture

Robie House

Charles Harper Center, across from Robie House

Rockefeller Chapel

Above the entrance to the Oriental Institute

 

My Mummy with a Mummy

Who knew I was a god? Of course, my artifact was among the smallest in the museum.

Inside the Smart Museum of Art

Soldier at a Game of Chess by Jean Metzinger, French, circa 1915-16

The original dining room table & chairs from Robie House, now at Smart Museum.

Nuclear Energy by Henry Moore, at the site of the world's first self-sustaining nuclear reaction