Friday, June 30, 2017

A tribute to sisterhood, and to the Windy City

For my 30th birthday, Linds surprised me with a trip to Chicago that included our immediate family of five. The whole weekend felt something like a dream. It was so fun, filled with shopping (Dad was the biggest trooper ever, and he was rewarded with trendy new jeans that could never qualify as "dad jeans" -- ahh, the perks of having three daughters and a fashionable wife), lots of eating (Baci's do this best), and a bit of dancing (it's too bad my nieces were not yet old enough to teach me the best moves, though had I used their moves, I would have likely needed another hotel room).

I hadn't gotten back to Chicago in the past 4.5 years until last weekend, but in that time, Cass was busy collecting field data on multiple research (as far as her husband knew ... research is also known as shopping) trips to the Windy City. Late this spring, she suggested we take a Bacichx trip back to Chi-town when I returned for summer break. Linds and I happily signed on for that adventure, and Cass began planning out the itinerary ... to the minute. By the time we took off early Friday evening, Cass had printed out the weekend play-by-play on gold leaf stationary --a truth or a lie?. Honestly, this is my favorite kind of travel. After making 1,500 decisions each day in the classroom (times 200 school days each year), I will submit to most any travel agenda, but especially those with words like "spa," "shopping," "brunch at ...", "dinner at ...", "drinks at ...", and "Hamilton." (True story: When Cass sent us her favorite song from the musical to listen to, Linds replied, "Not sure that I know who they are, but if you are excited, I am excited!" We love her. So much.)

The following are places that were included on our itinerary -- Cass now has a gig as a travel agent, after salon hours -- that I provide both for those traveling to Chicago, and to the rest of you for some entertainment and sista-friend feels.

Beatrix: This place was Bangin'! We dined here for dinner Friday night. I devoured the chili-chocolate smothered salmon (and shared it with the white jacket I borrowed from Linds) while Linds took down the parmesan-crusted chicken, and Cass got her fork into the steak with chimichurri sauce.


We loved Beatrix so much that we returned two other times, for tea -- spring for a maple cinnamon matcha latte! -- and dessert (deeliiicious gluten-free options available). 

Spa space: A beautifully indulgent experience. While not the same price point as my Asia spa experiences, it was the best facial I have had since we were there 4 and a half years ago. I would like to provide a photo here, but I am part of a micro-generation known as the Xennials, thus in most selfies I do not appear sexy or flirty or cute ... mostly just ... awkward. The Bacichx give this place six thumbs up, though. The robes are super soft, the scents are sweet, and the services are stellar. 

Shopping: Cass has shopping radar like I have never seen before. She walked us right to Magnificent Mile, which was only a short jaunt from our hotel as we stayed at the Cambria. After filling bags from Anthropologie, Lush, and Nordstrom's, I will not be able to purchase any more items at Whole Foods, but, dang, I'll look good walking up and down those grocery store isles. (Fun Fact: Cass's super shopper endorphins get her so high that when she sees a sign that says "Use other door" she runs around the building searching for the other door rather than opening the door in her right hand rather than her left. We love her soo big.)

Eataly: Bacichx gotta eat again, and one afternoon it was Go Italian or Go Home. Eataly is floors of fine foods and restaurants with specialty Italian dishes. My favorite dish here was Linds' pouch of mozzarella, called Burrata at Osteria di Eataly. The cream that oozed onto the plate when you cut into that bag-o-mozza is like silk on your tongue. 


#Sweatworking: While we make a sport out of eating, we also like to get our sweat on, and that we did at Barry's Boot Camp and Soul Cycle. For the past couple of years, I have been writing for A Sweat Life, a health and fitness blog based out of Chicago, the brainchild of Jeana Anderson Cohen. This trip was made especially awesome as Jeana joined us for both workouts. I like the Body Pump class at my gym in Shenzhen, but, seriously, Chicago is the envy of my gym spirit right now. Andrew, our Barry's Boot Camp instructor, with the short shorts (and, umm, best legs) had us doing sprints on the treadmill and then back to the ground for weights and then back to the treadmill and then back to the weights. It was dizzying and awesome and hot tunes were pumpin' the whole time. We loved it. 


(Baci-Sister-So-Smart moment: On the way to the class, I was gazing out the window at the lake, watching people bike around, thinking we could do the same after bootcamp -- cuz I'm crazy -- when I asked, "Hey, how far around this lake?" Now, you see, I've got some good brain cells, but I've got no geography cells. I got the high eyebrow in response to this question ... My sisters love me. So much.) 

Now, that Soul Cycle class was like no cycle class I have experienced before. When Cass signed us up, I had insisted on being in the front of class (because Kellen, our spin instructor, has rad hair and looked caaaayuuute in his photo ... you can follow him on Insta at #homosweatual, so you can see how my best laid schemes were foiled). The class was a comedy of errors. In the beginning, I couldn't get my shoes snapped into the pedals. Then, for the entire class save the last five minutes, my body did not bob to the beat, but rather my head was up when everyone else's was down. Towards the end of class, my bike pushups revealed jell-o-like arms, and when class ended 45-sweaty minutes later, I had to un-velcrow myself out of those shoes, as once they snapped in, they didn't snap out. Throughout the class, Jeana was rockin' it on to my left, and I spent most of class sucking air, hoping she was practicing Zen Soul Cycle with her eyes closed. You know what, though? I'd do it again. On a bike in the back. 

True Food Kitchen: After our sweaty boot camp class, we had brunch with Jeana at this healthy stop. Seriously, the organic, farm-to-table movement hasn't quite reached Shenzhen (note: I am refraining from any street-to-table jokes here as to avoid perpetuating stereotypes). When I come home to the Midwest, I love gobbling up as much super fresh produce and more sustainably and ethically raised cows and chickens. The Spicy Panang Curry will fill you up without giving you a food baby to sweat off again. 


Hamilton!!!: I was quite literally on the edge of my seat for the entirety of the play. The singing, the dancing, the story -- un-believ-able. I wish that I had read up a bit on my 1700s American history before the show as I was scouring Wikipedia at intermission to refresh my mind. Lin-Manuel Miranda is an absolute genius. He had us making up our own raps in bed that night, though stories with rhythm are more his thing than ours. The rest of the fam is returning to Chicago in August to see Hamilton as it does not come to Minneapolis until next year, and it will be worth seeing a second time at the Orpheum in St. Paul. 

Summer House Santa Monica: While Linds needed to get back to her babies, Cass and I hunkered down in Chicago a bit longer, thanks to her friends who are honeymooning in Asia and offered up their cute Lincoln Park apartment to us. In between episodes of Big Little Lies, we needed more sustenance. The Emerald Kale Salad was light and refreshing and provided just the energy I needed to figure out the mysteries of Monterey. 

Growing up, I used to feel that the three of us were so much alike -- especially Linds and I, as we are so close in age, played the same sports, and had many of the same friends. As we have come into adulthood, I see us as more and more different. Sometimes we annoy each other as much as we did when we were little girls, screeching out "REEEEEEAAAAARRR" in the car to make each other crazy. But this is the thing with the Baci sisters: in spite of many differences, our bond is unbreakable. I love sleeping next to them, snort-laughing with them, trying on 1 zillion pairs of pants with them, and talking in the dark with them. 


There is a quote you have probably heard. "Friends are the family we choose." This does ring so true in my life abroad. I have dubbed some of my friends surrogate sisters, and some of their husbands are the brothers I never had by blood. The Bacichx are sisters by blood and friends by choice. I will always choose them. 

(Being a tour guide is exhausting.)





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