“I ask, ‘What’s going on in Chicago, right? What is going on?’ There’s no excuse for it. There’s no excuse for it. I’m sure you’re asking the same question, ‘What’s going on in Chicago?’” —President Donald J. Trump
“Before I bought the site, the Sun-Times had the biggest, ugliest sign Chicago has ever seen. Mine is magnificent and popular.” So the president tweeted in response to the suggestion that Chicagoans might not want to be jolted by his tender ego every time they gaze upon the city’s skyline, one of the great architectural spaces of the world. Some say it’s the greatest.
A young blond woman rushed to the rescue. “It’s my father. He’s fine. It’s his birthday.” Selfies were taken against the skyline. New friends were made.
On another fine evening a coconspirator and I ordered the whole fried chicken for $42 and a Caesar salad for $18. To the table came a plate holding seven pieces of hacked and battered boneless chicken breast. We asked our server, Alyssa, about this strange species of boneless seven-breasted bird. “Is that all you got?” she sympathized, nervously eyeing the pile of deep-fried skin that collected from each piece as it was handled. Then “Yeah, it’s always just white meat,” she admitted. “Even for us servers, we only ever get the white meat.” Chef, she reported, was using the dark meat for stock.
I’m not so batty from Trump Derangement Syndrome that I can’t objectively identify what a poor value the food is at Terrace 16. The only thing Chicagoans on the ground are missing is the spectacular view from occupied territory.
401 N. Wabash 312-588-8600trumphotels.com/chicago/dining/fine-dining-chicago
