Mamma Morton, the Carniverous Diva of Chicago

I have been on the move ceaselessly since Friday afternoon and I am actually having a hard time keeping the events of those few days straight in my head. So I'm going to do what the twelve-steppers do, and take it a day at a time. What follows is an overview of Friday evening, when I was still in command of all of my senses.

Mortons Steak House on State Street is tucked away in Newberry Plaza just a step or two away from Michigan Avenue. I'm sure that most people frequenting that part of town in the evenings don't even know that the restaurant is there. In part this is due to the fact that Mortons is located in the famed area of Chicago known as "The Viagara Triangle", where very old men pick up very buxom women in very dodgy bars.

None of that holds any interest for me, as I was much more concerned with filling my stomach with delicious dinner. And at Mortons, I was not disappointed in the least.

The dinner started with some pretty impressive theatrics. The waiter came to our table with a selection of props on a small trolley, and then proceeded to demonstrate the virtues of that evening's menu. First, a live lobster was wiggled in our faces, the smiling waiter revealing that lobsters that night were all about 4lbs in weight, charged at $24.99 per pound. Clearly my bank manager recommended I pass on that, and the crustacean breathed a sigh of relief. Next up was the meat tray, and this was not the sort you'd see fetch the first prize at a RSL raffle either. This meat tray was positively brimming with the different cuts of meat that were on offer, and the waiter confidently worked his way around the tray, each meat cut sounding better than the last. I did stay away from the double porterhouse steak, because even though it "usually" serves two people, it was bigger than my head and therefore not appopriate for me to attempt eating it (at least not in public anyway). Finally, the waiter pointed to an array of fresh vegetables to explain that the side orders on the menu serve at least 2-3 people per serving. I have to admit, the whole menu was pretty confronting. So much choice, but what to choose?

We all took the easy way out and chose the menu special, which still gave us way too much food each. The meal was served with the best fillet of steak I have had in Chicago to date, a small fillet of seed-crusted tuna with a spicy soy sauce, grilled asparagus, and two jumbo grilled shrimp. For dessert, a hot chocolate cake and a scoop of vanilla ice cream on the side. The Californian red wine that Josh selected only served to complement the meal further. It was all so good, but my stomach hurts at the memory of it.

Walking off the effects of dinner, we shot up to the 96th floor of the Hancock Building at about 10pm to have a coffee and enjoy the night time view over the Chicago cityscape. I wanted to undo my jeans, but the Hancock's conservative dress code wouldn't allow it. And given that the Signature Room at the Hancock is essentially a cocktail bar, it was rather 'interesting' to drink coffee (or "warm dishwater" as Josh accurately christened it) out of a daquiri glass.

Notwithstanding the 'pleasure and pain' I was experiencing at having made a complete glutton of myself, I thought the view over Chicago at that time of night, from the birds-eye view of the Signature Room was just magical. This city sure knows how to make a girl feel well fed and right at home.