I'm wasting time here when I should be on a train headed for Pullman. Frankly, I'd love to just stop doing this, close the blinders, and crawl back in bed, but this Pullman trip is a paid freelance gig and while I'm down there I might as well find a cheap eat, since this week was all Alinea, all the time in the usual haunts.
Happy Brithday, Our Man in Chicago. I'd be at Tuman's this evening with you, but I have to work, Tuman's hasn't been the same since that Chicago magazine write-up back in '98, and all the bartenders that gave Tuman's its character back then work with me now. See, some thngs do have a silver lining.