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Beatrix, Chicago

by Krista

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Long-term readers will know that on Fridays during the summer, I can leave work early if I want to. And I’ve been trying to do that this summer, trying to get out there and explore places and do things and see things. Someone told me that I would love Beatrix so I went to Beatrix on one of my Friday afternoons. Because I am trusting like that.

And I did like Beatrix. Sort of. I mean, I liked the chairs. There are a lot of different chairs at Beatrix. It’s one of those new-school/old-school all day free-wifi restaurants with lots and lots of chairs for people so you can sit down or you can stand up or you can stay for 20 minutes or you can stay for EIGHT HOURS (like the people across from me did). Lots of interesting, different chairs. Really, there’s something for everyone. Really, it felt like a total ripoff of London’s Hoxton Hotel.

“Have the burger,” some guy at the bar urged me. “I just did and it was really really good.”

Apparently that man has never had a burger in HIS ENTIRE LIFE.

Because the burger was shite. Super shite. Overcooked sawdust.

And the fries were undercooked.

And the pickled vegetables were still too raw.

When I left, I was angry at myself for wasting my Friday lunch here. Very angry.

All that being said, they were jackhammering the road outside the restaurant and you never would have known it inside the restaurant. That’s some good sound-proofing they’ve got going there.

The Verdict: But no.

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