On a Personal Note - Chicago...Building my Minecraft Build from Memories and More!
Close your eyes and imagine your favorite city. What do you remember most when you think of it? Is it the big tourist attractions and the shopping avenues, or the little hideaways that feel like they belonged only to you and your special someone? I’ve been thinking a lot about my favorite city lately, and it’s not just the buildings and the landscape I feel tugging on my heart.
Chicago, Illinois is a place where every corner seems to echo with memories. I’ve spent several cherished days there with someone very dear to me. Now that I’ve been challenged to recreate it in Minecraft, I’m sifting through those memories to decide what to include. Chicago might be just another big city to some, but to me, it always had a small-town intimacy. It’s the kind of place where you can lose yourself in the hustle and bustle of Michigan Avenue one moment, then find a quiet corner in a tucked-away café the next. Despite its towering skyline and the endless stream of people, there’s a warmth in the neighborhoods, a sense of familiarity in the local haunts. It’s a place where, no matter how vast it seems, you can always find a sense of belonging, as if the city itself recognizes you as one of its own.
Let’s start with the signposts that even a casual visitor would recognize. Shedd Aquarium is one of those. It’s one of the three biggest aquariums on this side of the planet, right beside the Monterey Bay Aquarium in California and the Georgia Aquarium. That one definitely goes on the map, right by the lake. Then there’s the Museum of Science and Industry—a can’t-miss for anyone with even a passing interest in how the world works. It’s the largest science museum in the hemisphere, which says something—it’s a big hemisphere (as any science enthusiast would know). And in the same neighborhood, you find favorites like the Chicago Riverwalk and the Magnificent Mile. I must confess that I’ve spent more than an hour—or five—wandering those shops.
The Riverwalk is popular but still spacious enough that you can grab a few moments to yourself. We were there in summer, the night alive with laughter floating on the breeze and the lights from the buildings shimmering on the water. The two of us were walking hand in hand, lost in conversation when that notorious “lake effect” caught us by surprise. The temperature dropped in an instant, and I remember shivering in my light summer dress. Without hesitation, he slipped off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. The warmth of the jacket, the scent of his cologne, wrapped around me, and at that moment, I felt so deeply cared for. It’s funny how a simple gesture like that can etch itself into your memory, how it can bring back the feeling of being cherished whenever you think of it.
That same night, we found ourselves at Pops for Champagne on North State. We ducked in for a nightcap and a plate of fresh oysters. It was there I learned just how nuanced the world of champagne is—the grapes, the soil, the time and care it takes to produce each bottle. They really know their stuff! Pops was more than just a bar to me; it was a place where time seemed to slow, where the bubbles in our glasses mirrored the stars, we’d just seen outside. It’s one of those special hideaways that holds a piece of my heart.
And then there’s the little coffee shop we discovered on my next visit. Back then, it was called Asado Coffee, though I hear it’s now Hero Coffee and Bagel Bar. Tucked away in a historic building, it’s easy to miss unless you know to look down the alley off Jackson. The huge lit-up ‘coffee’ sign is a dead giveaway. The narrow passage always reminded me of Diagon Alley, but I never met any wizards. We had our coffee there every morning, a ritual that I dearly miss. I still have coffee, of course, but it's not espresso with steamed milk. It's not the low murmur of morning voices, cozy like a familiar comforter. The new spot might be great, but it doesn’t hold the same memories for me.
Time changes everything, doesn’t it? But some places feel timeless, like La Scarola. It would be a travesty to lose such an incredible Italian restaurant. I’ve searched far and wide for arrabbiata sauce as good as theirs, and nothing else comes close. We had so much fun trying to name all the celebrities whose pictures line the walls. Every dish they served looked like it belonged on the cover of a magazine, and the gals at the table next to us couldn’t resist snapping photos for Instagram.
After the tiramisu, they asked us about Molly’s Bar—they were fans of Chicago Fire, of course. But I had to tell them the truth: there is no Molly’s. The real place is called Lottie Pub, where they filmed parts of the show in the first two seasons. It used to bother me a little, seeing it on TV like that. Lottie’s was where we spent so many magic nights that it felt like our private spot. Maybe they changed the name for the show so the locals could keep it hidden. The last time I was there, it was as if nothing had changed—except the names on the taps.
As I look back on all these moments, I realize that what I love most about Chicago isn’t just the places themselves—it’s the memories they hold and the way they’ve shaped my life. The city, like everything else, has changed over the years, but the feelings it evokes in me remain as strong as ever. Whether it’s a new name, a different owner, or just the passage of time, the essence of those experiences stays with me, reminding me that some things—like love, laughter, and a favorite city—are timeless. Although I have returned to Chicago and will visit again because this city holds a special fondness, and now I am preserving it the best way I know how.
Although I have never been to Parkway Gardens (“O” Block), I accepted the challenge to build it by some of my subscribers. This too is in my Mindcraft Chicago Build.
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