There have been plenty of occasions over the last few months when I’ve sat down to write about ersatz Chinese food, or half-assed barbecue, or yet another costly multicourse tasting menu, when I’ve been hit by one thought that stops me midsentence: Who the hell can eat at a time like this?
For generations of immigrants, the restaurant industry has been a hub of steady work. New Americans have blessed cities like Chicago, opening their own spots to serve the food from their countries of origin and providing spaces for the homesick to get together, eat good food, and feel connected to the people and places they left behind. They’re also good places for the rest of us to go, eat good food, and try to connect to people we may know nothing about.
Somalia I already told you about Rogers Park’s Eric Grill, the place to satisfy your Friday camel-meat needs, but closer to downtown, where all the cabbies hang out, Mogadishu Restaurant does a brisk business in heaping platters of chicken or fish piled atop rice and vegetables. Don’t forget to mash your banana into the rice.Also try . . . Bismilahi
These aren’t ALL of the restaurants representing the Trumpfucked countries in Chicago. I invite you to share your favorites in the comments. v
