Spiaggia, Gnocchi from Heaven, and Boredom

Last night we had dinner at Spiaggia, the highly acclaimed Italian restaurant and Obama's fav restaurant. We had gone because when we were first looking at the restaurants participating in Chicago's Restaurant Week, Spiaggia was listed. Unfortunately, sometime between then and yesterday night, Spiaggia no longer was a participant, and we ended up spending way more ($200 vs. $70) than we had planned.

Spiaggia's food was awash with the fresh Italian black truffle shavings. Every item we ordered was very well executed and delicious, but the gnocchi completely stole the show. I would have gladly eaten that gnocchi for the first, second, and third course. I was surprised that for how classically romantic, beautiful furnishings that scream lushness, Lake Michigan views, and the most well-executed Italian food I've eaten , I preferred my experience at Le Colonial over that at Spiaggia. Maybe I'm just not cut out for the haute cuisine life after all.

Today, DK left at 6am for a case that he said would "end before midnight if we're lucky." Part and parcel of dating a surgeon is a Faustian bargain to put up with absurd work hours. There will be days like today when we won't see each other awake. He'll slip back into bed at 1am, and I will sleepily kiss him, roll over, and continue snoring. It's easy to intellectually grasp period of several days of this, but harder in reality when everyone's else partners are safely home by 7pm, and I am eating dinner by myself.

Inconspicuous Consumption & Perverse Incentives

Two days ago I spent $90 on a bathing suit and $50 on rain boots. I know, conspicuous consumption is SO last year, but the bathing suit was over 50% off retail, and the rain boots are that of the classic Hunter brand and bought at a 65%+ discount. The wellies make sense; I shuttle between Boston and Chicago, where both liquid and solid precipitation is present for 9 months out of the year.

The Vitamin A bathing suit, however, had a completely different motive. I'm going to Hawaii for spring break, and since my skin has not felt the warmth of delicious UV rays since my Australia trip at the beginning of this year, I felt compelled. This will have been the first bathing suit I will have bought since sophomore year in college, and that one was bought for me by my ex-boyfriend while vacationing in Puerto Rico. Second, over-spending on what is essentially a piece of lined stretchy fabric with strings attached creates a perverse incentive to eat right and go to the gym. I usually go straight home after my Thursday early evening classes end at 6pm, but in that crucial inflection point where I was driving home, the image of the bathing suit with its less than ample bottom flashed in my head. I think perhaps that is how habits are created. You make the same choices again and again at similar inflection points, and then it becomes automatic. I'd never gone to the gym right after Thursday's class, after all, 6pm is when I become crotchety with hungry. But today, I made a different choice. Maybe the bathing suit was a good idea after all.

A problem that PLAGUES society finally has a solution. Next up, an anti-gravity drug to prevent breasts from sagging.

Breakthrough research reveals a new element.

Dinner Party: Coq au vin = mediocre, Paella = reliably delicious, Roasted mixed mushrooms with crumbled goat cheese = surprisingly savory, Key Lime Pie = Good but need to practice the art of pressing graham cracker crumbs against the sides. How do you evenly press against the sloping vertical sides?