Whenever my friends and I found ourselves in Chicago, our first choice for lunch was the Grand Lux Cafe. The site is spacious and lux indeed with its voluptuous decor, vast, imaginative menu, and fastidious service. As of Christmas Eve, Grand Lux will be no more.
Our favorite haunt is yet another casualty of the pandemic. One by one, my cherished places and activities are snatched away, leaving me to wonder, like the oven bird in winter, what to make of a diminished thing.
Lois, Tim and I agreed we couldn’t let this grand old emporium vanish without a farewell visit to feast our eyes and warm our tummies. I tried to make a reservation for Saturday, but it was completely booked up. I had better luck this Monday. We were ushered to a roomy booth with a superb view of the lighted trees on Michigan Avenue.
Our lux view of the “Magnificent Mile”
Once seated, someone proposed a toast. With only water before me, I demurred, citing the superstition about toasting with water. I had ordered a vodka gimlet, which John called my old fogy drink, “Nobody has that any more, and if they actually have Rose’s lime juice, it’ll be stale and brown.” This time, he was right. They were out of it, and I couldn’t expect them to replenish it for their few remaining weeks. Well, I was treated like a visiting potentate. Three different servers and the bartender arrived with concoctions they hoped would please me. And that’s how it has always been at the Grand Lux Cafe.
Our server was a cheerful young woman who plans, (God bless her courageous heart), to become a teacher. No one at Grand Lux is ever just a waiter, though they are so gifted at the task that one wishes they’d continue at it forever. But no, they are all budding doctors, budding teachers, or most of all, budding actors. They won’t be out on the street as of January. The parent company, The Cheesecake Factory will place them elsewhere should they so choose. I wish them all luck.
I wanted a souvenir and offered to buy a menu, but was told to just take it.
It contains so many tempting choices that it’s always hard to settle on an order. The three of us shared such delectable appetizers as crispy Thai spring rolls, fried pickles, pot stickers, and Bao buns. We gobbled all but the plates. For entrees, Lois had a Grand Lux burger melt, Tim, the short rib pasta, and I, (switching at the last moment from spaghettini limone), pasta carbonara.
Dessert choices were much easier. Tim wanted the carrot cake with citrus cream frosting. Lois and I each had the sublime warm butter cake that we’d been dreaming about for days. Forgive the itemizing. It permitted me to savor it all once more.
Over double espressos, we reminisced and sometimes just sat in silence, basking in the warm opulence of our old friend.
Hard to believe, and hard to accept, that we’ll never dine there again.
Me Now 