My 'Revolucionary' experience.

I normally wouldn’t eat at a Mexican restaurant. I’d choose Italian or German, or even French, before Mexican. Especially in Chicago. Where I was last week. Thing is, I was with my Italian true love. And I trust her implicitly. In the choice of dining places. She chose the Revolucion.  And now I’m hooked. On Mexican fare. Revolucion was so good that we returned the next night. I had the same dish both times. Salmon. Prepared the Mexican way. With chopped veggies. Marinated with mild balsamic vinegar. Wow! A new and splendid taste for me. An appetizer of tortilla chips, too. Complemented by three kinds of salsa. Spicy to mild. And Mexican beer. Plus the endearing company of my beautiful and intelligent and culinary discriminating true love.  Can’t ask for more than that. Though maybe a little bit more light would have helped. It was so dark, we had trouble reading the menu. Even by light from a flimsy candle. Fortunately, the amiable and helpful waitress came by. With a fancy compact flashlight. The next night, we ate outdoors. On the patio. That gave us a little more light. From the stars, a neon sign or two from across the street, and a trusty Chicago street light. We ambled to Revolucion from our hotel, the Majestic, located a half block off Lake Shore Drive, in the heart of a swanky section of Chicago. Took a right turn, then a left, then another right, and one more left. To 3443 N. Broadway. And across the road from a Treasure Island grocery. Which we steered into just before closing. For a caramel apple cake and a carton of skim milk. A superb dessert. Over which I lingered. In our hotel room.  I fell asleep. Knowing that I had experienced a fantastic  Mexican Revolucion. –Jim Broede