Pops Chicago

by janet on March 15th, 2009

Sharisa: Pops!
Others: [Not listening] Where should we grab a drink?
Sharisa: Popospopspopspopspops!
Others: [Still not listening] Can we go somewhere other than the damn lobby bar? I’m sick of martinis.

So, she wasn’t hicupping. She was trying to communicate that we should go to Pops, which is a champagne bar in the Magnificent Mile (that sounds dumb. Miracle Mile is so much cooler) area of downtown Chicago. It was barely a three-block walk from our hotel, on the way to our dinner rezzies at Frontera (post forthcoming!) Grill, and just perfect.

Drew, who wasn’t going with us because she had a date with a Chicago “friend” (in quotation marks because he was one of those friend-who-so-dearly-wants-to-marry-you-even-though-you’ve-told-him-a-thousand-times-you-have-a-boyfriend friends … one of those friend-who-texts-you-multiple-stanza-poems friends … one of those “Oh, you now need me to pick you up at Pops? Ok, well make sure you stay in the upper floor near a window because the lower floor of that restaurant doesn’t get any cell reception and I want to be able to reach you when I pick you up at 8:55 on the dot” friends), decided she couldn’t miss out and came with us.

The menu is extensive. We obv skipped the Jacquesson 1990 Avize Grand Cru Dégorgement Tardif since I didn’t bring enough cash to spend $1250, and settled on a relatively cheapie cheap Prosecco. We fretted to our server (whom Liz called “attractive” and we all jumped down her throat. Attractive if you’re Charlotte from Sex and the City, maybe) over whether to get the half bottle or a bottle or a half bottle or a bottle do we have time for a whole bottle probably not but will half a bottle be enough etc. for a long time, and instead of taking the easy up-sell, he said “We can surely work out a half bottle for the four of you.” and eased our mental suffering.

This on top of the bouncer getting us a prime table in the window (we seated Drew immediately adjacent to the window for maximal cell reception) even though we yelled “WE’RE ONLY HAVING ONE DRINK!!!” as we were walking in. Very nice, these Chicagoans.

Liz got some sort of peach bellini with peach foam. She gave me a taste. Lordie. When I was a kid, I was allowed to have the foamy head only off of my parents’ beers. I sucked Liz’s foam the way I imbibed said beer foam as a child – like my life depended on it. Delish!

When Drew’s “date” pulled up (we all wondered what sort of car he [hedge fund lawyer] would drive – I kept a lookout for either a Mercedes or an unmarked van) in a BMW and she scampered off, probably mortified that we were waving at her date SO HARD with cheesy grins on our faces. Cuteness all around.

Pops for Champagne
601 North State Street at Ohio

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