After a Saturday morning filled with shopping on State Street, we headed to a cute little restaurant I’ve always wanted to try—Russian Tea Time. Now, I have passed this place dozens of times, but for some reason (perhaps the cold meds) could not remember the street on which it was located. I knew it was somewhere near Grant Park/the Art Institute, and that it sat on the south side of an east-west street between Wabash and Michigan. I just figured we’d see it if we walked a few blocks. Well, we walked a few blocks. We did not see it. My mom, who is highly familiar with my terrible sense of direction, started suggesting that we just go grab a sandwich someplace else. But when I get something in my head, I’m determined to do it, come hell or high water. So, I swallowed my pride and started asking people. The clerk at CVS: “Never heard of it.” A clerk at Seven Eleven: “No [raising an eyebrow at me]. I have no idea where that is. And no, we don’t have a phone book.” The bell-hop at a nameless hotel: “I've been asked this before. I don't know exactly, but you have to go north. It’s on Michigan Avenue, toward Randolph.” I knew that was wrong the second he said it. It’s not on Michigan—this I knew—but since I clearly wasn’t finding it on my own, I’d decided to roll with it for a block or two. Of course, that was to no avail. Mom was being a good sport, but I could tell she was ready to sit down; however, like I said, I was determined. So we kept going south until, finally, I peered around the corner at Michigan and Adams, and there it was! Imagine that--it was in exactly the place where I'd seen it before.
We went in and sat down for a leisurely lunch before our architecture tour on the river. With lively Russian music playing in the background, we were seated at a lovely table with white linens and fresh bread. It was a perfect day for tea—chilly, not at all like mid-August—so we each ordered the Jasmine tea. It was delicious and soothing to my scratchy, under-the-weather throat. For lunch, my mom opted for stuffed mushroom caps, while I tried something new—-pumpkin vareniky. Just as the tea was exquisite, my taste buds were entirely satisfied with the vareniky. Similar to a pierogi, the dumplings were stuffed with pumpkin and onion and sprinkled with cinnamon. They were served with sour cream, and I was in heaven. I recommend this dish to anyone who loves all things pumpkin (which is definitely me).
Then, when I thought we were through, my mom nudged me in the direction of dessert (I try to resist, I really do!). We decided to split the Napolean torte and wow. That’s all I can say. Layers of thick pastry and rich cream drizzled with raspberry sauce. Decadence. I have no vested interest in Russian Tea Time, and I am telling you anyway—-go there! I’m sure you’ll leave feeling as completely satisfied as we did when we stepped out the door.
