A Ferris Day at the Taste

For many of the last ten years, opening day at the Taste of Chicago has been a standard field trip for a summer class I teach at the University of Chicago Laboratory Schools. While “Investigating Chicago,” our middle school students get to tour the Taste, Ferris Bueller-style, a school day of festival and food. They do have assignments, which are loosely journalistic. When we return to school, they have to write a review of something. We joke that a review of the port-a-potties would be appropriate. They also have to conduct an interview. The hawkers being paid to talk to passersby are easy prey, we suggest. Other good candidates are the people collecting signatures or informing about causes—like the vegetarians who sometimes set up at the main gate.

Here’s my assignment for this year.

Most noticeable change: Where’s the water ride? Last year our students had to climb out of their log canoes halfway up the incline on the water ride—and the ride had just opened. Whether because of those technical difficulties or some other reason, the water and splash tank are gone. The Ferris Wheel remains. While I was eating, my students called me on cell phone from the top. The new attraction is a bungee harness and individual trampoline that gives kids a bounce. None of my students were bouncers.

Best change: The focus of family activities seems to have been moved from the far end of the fair, at Balbo, to the main entrance. Along with the Family Fun stage, there is an old-fashioned merry go round. Small tents house more formal arts and crafts activities, but blankets laid out on the grassy under the shade offer simpler pleasures—architectural blocks to stack and other kid fun. The area at Balbo seems to have been upgraded as well, featuring a walk around chess board with kings and queens the size of toddlers.

Most aggressive hawkers: The people giving away the free sheets of new and improved Brawny paper towels must have been getting paid by the number of sheets. Actually, the Brawny displays included clean and working hand washing stations, which provide a great service. The real winners for this category were the representatives of the health club who staked out the corners of the Congress and Columbus intersection. A Latino woman walked by pushing a stroller and dragging two kids by the hand. “You look like you could use a workout,” a tight shirted woman athlete carrying a clipboard said as she chased the mother down the avenue. Maybe she meant the mother had to keep in shape chasing the kids, but I don’t know when she would find the time for the health club.

Best Taste portion: I bought two strips of tickets—24 total—at Dominick’s for the discount price of $6.00, compared to the $8.00 strips at the Taste. At the Roosevelt and Canal Dominick’s the line was long and included people who had already discovered that the Ashland and Archet Dominick’s had sold out of tickets.

It is suggested to the vendors that they offer a small portion for two to four tickets, as opposed to the main entrée offerings of eight or nine. All the Taste portions I found were generally four tickets—including the Rainbow Cone ice cream portion, which advertised for three tickets but, as the girl at the counter told me, “That’s a mistake, sorry.” I had found another three-ticket portion, and I was planning to use my two left over tickets for a half slice of watermelon from the Dominick’s stand. Instead I had one ticket that I couldn’t find at the end of the day to give away.

Not counting the ice cream, I purchased five other portion items. My first idea was to try all the different pizza joints, but that just seemed like a lot of pizza. Instead, I went for an ethnic strategy.

First I tried my favorite old standard, jerk chicken with rice and beans from Vee Vee’s African restaurant. I was hungry, and I probably ate it too quickly—the chicken was gone in one big bite--to really appreciate it. Sorry Vee Vee.

Next up, a barbeque meatball sandwich from Sweet Baby Ray’s. You only get one side of the hamburger bun to make a sandwich, and the meatball was big. But I managed. It was good, and I put it on the list for the next time I go shopping.

I teach at Saint Ignatius during the regular year, and the Tuscany booth was the first Taylor Street restaurant I saw. The toasted cheese ravioli portion was piping hot. I watched the health club hawkers while I waited for it to cool down. The sauce was tangy.

The Taste portion for Costa’s Greek restaurant was Loukaniko (Greek Sausage). The sausage came on half a hot dog roll—and a matching portion of freshly cut onions. I worried about talking to my students, but figured that I should eat it the way it was served. It was a good decision all around.

I considered something from Lagniappe-Creole Cajun Joynt . The Taste portion was a beignet. What’s a beignet? I asked. The answer sounded like fried dough—sorry Lagniappe. I wasn’t ready for dessert.

Finally, as it turned out, the best was last. At the booth for A Natural Harvest, specializing in vegetarian fare, I debated whether to splurge for the Roasted Corn on the Cob with Soy Butter and Cajun/Creole spice, but I opted, once again, for the Taste portion, Vegetarian Tamale with Black Bean Salsa. It was great, and it wins the prize.

Most interesting moment: Posters for the Chicago Olympics effort extended up and down Columbus Avenue from the central venue at the Congress intersection, where passersby were invited to be “Part of it!” Push the big red button and you moved the number on the scoreboard. At 11:45, the score stood at 90—not a good effort, it seemed to me, if they started pushing at 11 when the Taste opened. Maybe the low-key volunteers should have taken lessons from the Brawny people. I got a recorded ovation and my Olympics sticker when I did my part—number 92. Trying to give the volunteers a hand, I looked around for some of my students. No luck. Then I started up a conversation with an African American woman leading a large group of campers in Park District shirts. That group could really move the number, I calculated. “If you push the button,” I said, pointing to the Olympics display, “you get a free sticker and you support the Olympics. You could bring your kids over.”

She looked at me squarely and said, “We don’t want it here.” Then she marched on with her charges.

We give our students about an hour at the Taste, on their own in small groups, to do their research and eat their food. Most of them use their tickets and precious time on the rides. Sometimes they “forget” to do the assignments. Sometimes they are late for the 12:00 high noon deadline for returning to the main entrance so we can catch the Metra back to Hyde Park.

This year they were all on time, and they all did their assignments.

The girls who fit in a ride on the Ferris Wheel were happy and satisfied.

Less satisfied were two 8th grade boys. “That was boring,” one of them said. “All we did was walk around.” I guess Ferris didn’t have to play hooky with his teacher around.