When this Virginia girl moved to the bustling city of Chicago from small-town Chapel Hill decades ago, I found the people I met friendly, warm and welcoming. It wasn’t long before I went to an Italian/Polish wedding at which the only universal word spoken was “vino.” Born-and-raised Chicagoans took me under their wing to share their favorite restaurants and travel tips. Gene and Georgetti’s, The Pump Room, and The Lodge became regular haunts and soon, I became an expert at riding the “El” to Wrigley Field.
Chicago soon began to feel like home, although navigating the brutal winters of cold, ice and snow was always a challenge. And truth be told, I missed my MeeMaw’s fried okra and southern Smithfield ham biscuits.
As fate had it, I married a “Wisconsin guy” who I met in grad school in Chapel Hill and the rest is a story that continues to be written. Had I visited Wisconsin before I made the move to the Midwest? Nope. But now I am a Green Bay Packer fan, have been to the “hallowed grounds” of Lambeau Field more than once, and had a number of stays at harbor towns dotting the Lake Michigan shoreline. Squeaky cheese curds are abundant, pasties and polka music are still a thing, Thankfully, I now understand the nuances of the Wisconsin accent and am known to say “you betcha” more times than I should!
What’s more? I’ve developed a penchant for an occasional Brandy Old Fashioned and dinner at
This Article was originally published on Grape Experiences
