Arriving an hour late and leaving me to hang out with Brett and Michael (whom I had never met before), Norah proceeded to make us walk for forty minutes from North/Clybourne to Del Seoul, near Lincoln Park in the land east of Diversey and Fullerton. Brett and I had already walked 10 miles in the day and burned some time wandering around a sporting good’s store, the Apple store, and Whole Foods, so dinner couldn’t come soon enough.
Michael and Norah would be moving in together eight days after this meal. No two people have so reminded me of myself and Hans in terms of how well they get on, number of in jokes, and the likelihood that they would inadvertently isolate the others that they are with.
We waited five minutes to be seated. More accurately, we queued at the till to order food and by the time this was done our table was ready. There were a number of tables with children. I wouldn’t bring children here. It seemed hip and young. The olds should take their kids to Chuck E Cheese and other unfashionable institutions so that we youngs won’t get freaked out about the future. The interior was fashionable-industrial and the tables were tightly packed. The waiters probably have a second job in the arts and are sexually deviant. Then again, I don’t know their lives.
As it was Good Friday and in the queue I had decided that I would sanctify that, I ordered the sambal fish taco and the sesame-chili shrimp taco, with a side of kimchee and some seasoned gamja fries. Norah and Brett ordered similar tacos, though with the addition of pork and kalbi beef respectively, and Michael had the bibimbap, which looked more impressive than any bibimbap I’ve ever had.
Brett had ordered dumplings to start which we all shared. They were good, but then again I have rarely if ever had a bad dumpling. The fries were decent, and my interest in aioli continued to grow.
Much like Korrito in London, the Mexi-Korean fusion continues to be a winner. The spicing and texture of the two cuisines are a marriage that I would contribute dowry to. My side of kimchee was too hot for the others, and as I got deeper into the pot, combined with the spicing of the tacos and my table-spicing of sriracha (sriracha in one hand, taco in the other, squirt, bite, repeat) meant that I had to excuse myself and refill my water.
Corn tacos beat wheat tacos. The shrimp was the winner of the two, but it was a very closely fought battle, and the corn taco may have nabbed it. Norah had never tried the fish and was impressed.
We went to watch Improvised Shakespeare and Brett, unable to get a ticket, went home alone. Uber to iO.Swishcago.