Orderinny

This weekend I returned to the alma mater, to relive some good old memories with TPS and to show off to Rosie, our small but charming campus. As visitors, TPS and I reveled in the ordinary, delightfully witnessing the creeping ivy that adorn the grey gothic buildings change from green to gold to red. We walked through the silent hall of the Rockefeller chapel trying to remember the "Aims of Education" message we heard 5 years ago as freshmen while Rosie admired the stained glass. We peered into Hutchinson Commons so that TPS could catch a glimpse of the picture of "the president who looked like Richard Gere". I was comforted that I still remembered all the names of the halls, and gaped in astonishment at the dvd machine on the basement of Reynolds Club, where the ORCSA noticeboards were. What a sign of progress!!!
Unfortunately, the weather, while not too uncharacteristic of a Chicago fall, was a little too chilly for us to continue hiking beyond the main quads, so we decided to warm ourselves over hot drinks and maybe something sweet to eat. And by dessert, both TPS and I wordlessly agreed, that we had to go to Medici for the definitive slice of apple pie.
For the thousands of students attending the University of Chicago each year, Medici is a familiar haunt. With its graffiti loaded walls, good and filling diner food and very, very affordable prices, scores of bookish students take the short walk from the quads to 57th St each day to the Med as we call it, where politics and the arts are discussed, gossip shared and soup sipped. For me and my friends, it was a place to share in our love for good food and great company, as well as to revel in our common identity as survivors of the harsh UofC regime. Between me and my friends, we have had multiple first dates, pre-exam binges, post-exam leisurely chat-n-chew, bitch and snitch sessions at the Medici. We have slurped thick milk-shakes during hot summers and warmed ourselves with spiced cider during winter. When the proprietors opened a bakery next door to the restaurant, I had on many occasions taken the long way home so that I could duck in there for a cup of spicy mexican hot chocolate. But while we mulled over the long list of appetizers and entrees, dessert was a foregone conclusion. We would like to order Gracie's apple pie, ala mode, thank you very much. Sure, our affection for this apple pie may be tinged with more than a little bit of fond memories, but that's not to say that it isn't a mean slice of pie. The pie at Medici is baked to order, wonderfully crusty and redolent of cinnamon. The generous scoop of vanilla ice cream melts slowly into the bowl, its sweetness balancing the tartness of the apples. And the sensation of both hot and cold is plain amazing. Unsurprisingly, we licked this bowl clean, like the many orders of apple pie before it. While the school has progressed in my absence, the taste of apple pie remains the same.

Medici
1327 E57th St