Dude is a very sweet, chill and gentle, three-year-old male grey lop rabbit looking for a loving guardian.
Dude was relinquished to Friends of Petraits Rescue due to his family’s busy schedules and allergies. He loves attention from people and other rabbits, but is not too fond of being picked up.
He is perfectly litter box-trained, like a cat, and eats a healthy diet of timothy and orchard hays, and plenty of fresh greens … romaine, etc.
He was pretty isolated in his old home since they were allergic to him, so he loves being in the mix and participating in family life.
Dude is extremely healthy, vet-checked, neutered, micro-chipped and ready for a loving family. His adoption fee of $150 benefits Friends of Petraits Rescue and includes all his belongings … carrying case, food, hay, litter, litter box, pen, and favorite toys!
Please contact [email protected] if you’re interested in adopting the Dude!
If you’d like to read up on rabbits and their care, please check out: http://www.rabbit.org/.
Has it finally come to this? That President Donald Trump has “blood on his hands”?
Yes it has. The slander has spiraled through the left wing and media precincts with all the speed of a coronavirus pandemic.
NBC News anchor Chuck Todd stuck to the script when he asked former Vice President and Democrat presidential contender Joe
Chuck Todd (NBC file)
Biden, “Do you think there is blood on the president’s hands considering [Trump’s] slow response? Or is that too harsh of a criticism?” Biden responded: Yes, it was “a little too harsh.”
A little?
Someone writing breathlessly in something called PoliticusUSA observed:
Trump’s weaponizing the pandemic is costing Americans’ lives. Trump has blood on his tiny hands borne of his incompetence, narcissism, and mendacious propaganda crusade. Trump’s narcissism has taken a new twist. And now he has American blood on his hands
Keith Martin, a physician who heads the Consortium of Universities for Global Health, warned that if Trump lifted the social distance restrictions too soon (he didn’t) that “President Trump will have blood on his hands.”
The bloody virus, having jumped the Atlantic to Britain, prompted in the reliably left-wing megaphone, The Observer, to observe, “Trump’s narcissism has taken a new twist. And now he has American blood on his hands.”
House Speaker Nancy Pelosi strayed from the verbatim script but hit Trump with an equally outrageous charge. “The president, his denial at the beginning was deadly,” she told CNN’s Jake Tapper.
Pelosi:…his continued delay in getting equipment to where it’s needed is deadly. Now the best thing to do would be to prevent more loss of life rather than open things up, because we just don’t know.
Tapper: Are you saying his downplaying ultimately cost American lives? Tapper asked.
Pelosi: Yes, I am.
In their compulsion to find a new and more insulting descriptive of the despised Trump, Democrats have dived to new depths. Trump now is a murderer.
You can argue that Trump brought this on himself with his off-the-cuff and poorly considered remarks about his “terrific” moves against the coronavirus. And he’s getting pounded for it. (For example, here and here.)
But the insults are flying hot and heavy from both sides. It’s stupid and dangerous. With this new low coming from Democrats, isn’t it time to pack it in and concentrate on the real enemy?
We are still in it. Yes, will likely become much worse. But that should not panic us, should not push us into fleeing like from a tornado or tsunami. This is different. We cannot flee from the tiniest microorganism which does a kind of reverse food chain on us. We feast on many animals; and plants, smaller than we are. We consider ourselves the peak of the pyramid of the animal world. I suppose we are. But the smallest microorganism has chosen to use our cells to feed itself. Sometimes we will die from it.
At this moment I am not afraid. If I become ill and suffer air hunger I suppose I will know fear. But now, I have had a beautiful meditation, via webcast, with others, and I will go off to mingle with and help others who need food to survive. When you purchase food, when you prepare it, think of how we are all inter-connected with each other. I had this sense the other day, as I peeled a banana. I am connected with very poor people who pick the banana, who transport it to a seaport. It goes on a ship (perhaps also on an airplane? I don’t know), and then it traveled by trucks through intermediate stops, and was unloaded by tired, straining workers who finally placed it on the shelf so I could eat it. Think of it. We are all inter-connected.
Well, I started writing this morning and it was a good start. Had a great day. Both physically and mentally I felt better than I have in a few days. Perhaps I was rested enough. Meditation is always an upper for me. People are still mostly very polite and caring at work; co-workers as well as the customers. A customer, after I helped him find something, thanked me for coming in to work. So, it felt mostly good. I talked with a lot of people and sucked on zinc lozenges and still hope I will not become ill. I hope this goes by faster than we are afraid it will, but, we should not panic.
Be safe, stay well, believe in the higher powers. We can do this.
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Just a word about my blog, “Docrambo”. It sounds weird to me and when I told a friend in one of the volunteer organizations in which I participate, she gave me a gentle smile. I think it meant “sounds funny but I think you are a nice person anyway.” It is ok. The name was a nickname I acquired while working at the Great Lakes Naval Base in North Chicago, IL. A navy hospital corpsman worked with me in the Pediatric Clinic. He was a bodybuilder and saw that I had some small hand-weights under my desk, which I used at lunch time to keep myself toned. I am anything but a Rambo-type of a guy, but we joked about it. He gave me the nickname.
I have been writing things since I was 15 years-old. I am a retired pediatrician. These are my ideas, experiences and feelings from all those years. They are about being a pediatrician, a doctor, and also about being a father, a spouse, and just a human being.
You wake up in the morning. There’s something catching in your throat. You clear it, but wonder. Is that a cough? Is this a symptom? Is this how it begins? Is it my turn for the coroanvirus?
How many of you are neurotic about your health? How often do you feel a slight twinge somewhere on your body and immediately head off to Google to check it out? I admit I do that? I’m the type that has a leg cramp and then goes to my doctor to tell him that I have advanced heart disease. If you’re anything close to that, this coronavirus pandemic must have you calling your therapist multiple times each day.
Here’s my story of paranoia. Maybe you can relate, maybe not. Maybe it’ll help you feel better, probably not.
I actually do have one of the symptoms. I have the dreaded dry cough. The good news is it started towards the end of last year, before the virus scare began. The not so good news is me and my doc have tried everything to get rid of it. I’ve been through two inhalers and some pills that did nothing. Next he told me that sometimes it takes more than six weeks for the cough to go away. Not all that reassuring. Finally, they gave me some prescription cough medicine with codeine that seems to doing the job. The cough is still there, but getting better.
The major problem with having a cough is the looks you get from other people. A month ago I walked into a grocery and started coughing. The dude entering with me took about five steps backwards like he was doing his best Michael Jackson imitation. A week later I saw people staring me down at the airport. Imagine how scared you would be getting on an airplane and sitting near someone coughing?
And yet, that’s not the stuff that is freaking me out. That’s real and being controlled. It’s the ones going through my brain that are doing that job.
I feel my head at least ten times a day. About half the time it feels normal. It’s the other times that drive my insanity. It feels like I’m burning up….or at least have a temperature of 100 degrees. I have no idea which one is true. We don’t have a thermometer. All the stores are out of them. We did order one on Amazon. The delivery is scheduled for some time in May. Apparently I’m not the only one with an imaginary fever.
Next comes the chills. It doesn’t matter when I’m taking one of my walks around the neighborhood, they’re still chills, right?
Finally, my throat does feel a little sore. I’m having a bit of a problem swallowing liquids. A few days ago, I downed some chloraseptic spray. I didn’t both with the spray attachment. I just downed a couple of swigs. It didn’t help with my imaginary throat issue, but it did help me sleep better….much better. Who knew alcohol was one of the main ingredients?
So, can you relate to this? Is this helping? Does this make you feel better, or at least not so alone with your emotions? You’re welcome.
I would go on with a few more maybe imaginary symptoms, but I think you get the point. Besides, I feel a little headache coming on. Hmmm…is that one of the symptoms? I think I may need a lay down for a nap.
My so called friends think it’s time to edit this section. After four years, they may be right, but don’t tell them that. I’ll deny it until they die!
I can’t believe I’ve been writing this blog for four years.
It started as a health/wellness thing and over the years has morphed to include so many things that I don’t know how to describe it anymore.
I really thought this was going to be the final year of the blog but then Donald Trump came along. It looks like we’re good for four more years..God help us all!
Oh yeah…the biographical stuff. I’m not 60 anymore. The rest you can read about in the blog.
Now that we’re in dystopia, my diet is like a menu from a women’s magazine from the old days–for young women who wanted to lose five pounds. They seemed like a good idea–but the food was so skimpy. And no one could stay on diets like that for more than a meal. Or two.
But now, eating a daily diet that an editor at Glamour may have written up in 1966 provides structure. And the ingredients are easy to get at Trader Joe’s. And are probably good for resisting invasive invisible little fairy-dust-like Corona viruses, if they happen to get into your mouth, eyes or nose via your own unwashed hands, and multiply by hijacking the DNA in your lungs.
So the following is typical of what I’m eating these days; and very typical of how those diets were in the old magazines.
Breakfast: oatmeal, fresh berries, half-banana and coffee (I use 1/2 and 1/2 or even heavy cream but the original diets would have only allowed skim milk)
Midmorning snack: a slice of whole wheat toast with peanut butter (I use the kind with nothing but peanuts and salt)
Lunch: another slice of whole wheat toast with mayonnaise and sliced cold chicken (from last night’s nicely roasted chicken), two slices of tomato and an apple for dessert
Dinner: a small salad of butter lettuce, grape tomatoes, a green onion and dressing of choice; a 2-egg omelet with asparagus, smoked salmon, onion (white or red), cheddar cheese and a fresh orange, cut in quarters
Bedtime snack: two squares of dark chocolate (this wouldn’t have been on the menu back then because no one knew about it yet) and a cup of tea with lemon and sliced kiwifruit
I think about this kind of food all day. Because it’s pretty much the only thing that requires planning now. Because I have to make sure that the refrigerator is stocked and that all the items are there. I can’t go to the store any more than absolutely necessary. I probably shouldn’t go at all.
No more dinners out before plays or concerts, obviously; or lunch meetings where lunch is provided; or brunch with girlfriends who want to get together to chat; or stops at fast food places where I love their salads and sandwiches and almond croissants and brownies.
It’s just me and my food and turning on the dishwasher every day with a full load. I stopped doing that about the time menopause struck, never looking back or caring. Because of the rise of meals on the go, meals cooked by someone else and meals that only money could buy–all prepared. I only turned my dishwasher on every two weeks to wash coffee cups.
So I read this terrific article last night that a friend shared on Facebook about a couple who lives in New York. He’s a chef at the two-Michelin-star Atera. And he’s off work since dystopia struck. She’s a prolific freelance writer and she’s moved in with him for the duration. They don’t live together ordinarily. She lives Uptown and he lives south in another Manhattan neighborhood in a very small apartment with one window that faces a wall. It’s dark and cramped and he stores cooking tools all over the place.
In normal times, he doesn’t like to cook on his days off. So unless she goes to his restaurant she never eats what he makes. While she’s there with him, he’s decided to cook for her every day. Gorgeous, interesting, delicious things that you can read about here. And see pictures of, too.
And I realized that their life, like mine now, is structured by food. By the basic building blocks of life that keep us alive and help us stave off disease. By the same nutritional components that I studied in college (BS in Community Health, 1971), and in graduate school (MS in Public Health, 1972) and that have stood upon my shoulders, whispering tips for decades. During many of which I paid no attention.
There were other times, when food was really important, particularly during my first marriage, where we bought all the kitchen accoutrements of our generation and tried making fancy things together–like paella and fondue and crepes.
Speaking of the day we made crepes, that was the day we invited his grandmother and great aunt to come over and partake. It was a hot day, and I had no idea that you had to put your mixing bowl and beaters–and even the little carton of whipping cream–in the the refrigerator for a while before beating.
And I beat and beat and beat and basically made very soft butter. And Tim’s grandmother said, “Oh, honey, that’s what happens when you get nervous and you want to make everything perfect for guests–you make ‘company cream.'” I got the joke right away. But few people who I’ve told that story to over the last 45 years ever seemed to.
But that was before we were in dystopia.
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Bonnie McGrath is an award-winning long time Chicago journalist, columnist, blogger and lawyer who lives in the South Loop. You can contact her at [email protected]
Renaldi’s Pizza. 2827 North Broadway. Whenever Ashley and I walk past, there’s this little burst of heat right over our heads that pumps out the smells of marinara and a buttery crust. If we’re not the ones to say it, there’s someone else declaring: “Ooh, that smells good.” They stop to look at the menu.
In the summer time, Renaldi’s has tables setup outside on the patio. They’re packed with people drinking wine, laughing. It’s hard to even imagine that right now two weeks into the stay-at-home orders. This stretch of sidewalk feels like you’ve been transported to Rome (except for the Walmart Express across the street). On Wednesday nights, I’m not sure if they still do this, but their attached bar next door (Renaldi’s After Dark) used to have, “Five Dollar Steak Night.” You could bring in a steak from home, they’d grill it up for $5. Just a random event that would never happen at a national chain.
Renaldi’s has been around for 45 years. Same owner. Same location. They’re a staple in the Lakeview East neighborhood and their longevity is the dream scenario for any aspiring restaurant owner.
Especially for someone like the 25-year-old Leyla Khanahmad. Back in January of 2020, she and her restaurant partner, Firat Ahmet Ergun, were scrambling to open their new restaurant (Black & Caspian) at 2908 North Broadway, not far from Renaldi’s. During this time, Leyla was working a full-time job in wealth management at CIBC downtown. When the work day ended, she jumped into restaurant owner mode. She was securing tables, chairs, glasses, plates. Buying wood and paint from Home Depot. A fireplace. Getting the floors ready.
As Leyla and Ahmet were preparing for opening night, the beginning of their restaurant journey, the 45-year veterans over at Renaldi’s came by with bar chairs as a gift. Welcome to the neighborhood. It’s good to have you here.
Chasing after a dream
What fascinated me about the Black & Caspian story was I pictured walking down the hallway at CIBC as another employee, passing by cubicles, desks, and when you’d get to Leyla’s space, the thought would be, “She’s on so-and-so’s team. She’s been here since whenever.” I would have no idea the dream going on behind the scenes.
“We decided, it was probably July [of 2019] we wanted to purchase this place,” Leyla said, referring to the restaurant “Troy” that used to be in this space. “But the problem was that we didn’t have money. So I came in to talk to the owner. Because I kind of knew that, you know, he was here for a very long time and I knew that he wanted to, he was tired, you know, he wanted to go see his dad and he wanted to basically get out of business. So I came to talk to him and I said I wanted to purchase the business from him to let us take over the lease. And he obviously asked for money, which we didn’t have.”
Leyla was making around $50,000 a year in her role at CIBC. She suggested to the previous owner that she could put down a deposit and pay more in six months after they had more time to save. She was very transparent in her negotiation.
“He was like, this is the price I’m offering. I literally said, ‘I don’t have that much, but I have five times less than that.'”
With the negotiation underway, now it was time to go into aggressive savings mode. Both her and Ahmet started to live on the bare minimum.
“Some days I’d eat like 95 cent noodles. I would use the vending machine at work. We didn’t spend, we didn’t travel. Each month, I don’t know, it was like $1,000 here, $500 there. We also borrowed from friends.”
Once they had enough money saved, they went back to the previous owner. But there was another offer on the table.
“We were devastated,” Leyla said. “We were like, Oh my God; this is not going to happen. This is terrible. We didn’t hear from him for two weeks. Then he called us back and said, okay.”
The leap of Faith
Leaps of faith are hard to make, because you can’t think your way into them. From a dollars and cents perspective, there is no way to rationally justify quitting a $50,000 a year job and going down to, potentially, zero.
But there’s also no way to run a restaurant and hang onto a full-time job. Just not enough hours in the day.
And yet, on opening night, and for the first two weeks after, Leyla was doing both.
“I got out of work and I was stuck in traffic,” Leyla said, referring to opening night. “I took the 135 and I was stuck on Lake Shore Drive. Then I came in, you know, I’m coming into my own restaurant which just opened. It was hard. It was like I was a bad employee at work and a bad manager here. I had to quit my job because I couldn’t do both at the same time. For example, when you’re buying wine, you have to be here to taste it, to know what you’re buying.”
Balancing the two jobs took its toll on Leyla.
“I felt guilty. I felt I wasn’t like good enough there. I wasn’t good enough here. I felt like I was being irresponsible. I slept like four hour days and I was a zombie at work. I mostly felt bad because, you know, I have employees, I expect something from my employees. And I was an employee there [at CIBC]. They expect something from me. I have to give my 100 percent.”
And the equation never got easier.
“The hardest part of quitting my job was psychologically because I thought, you know, it’s a new restaurant. What if we don’t make money in the first two weeks? We put everything into here. Who’s going to pay for our rent? I have to continue working. And then my partner said, yeah, it’s a difficult financial situation. You know, maybe you should stay for maybe another week. Let’s just be on the safe side.”
When it was time to make the full leap of faith, officially quitting the day job, going all in, Leyla made one last round of check-ups to build a small sense of security. She paid her rent in advance. Took her two dogs to the vet. Went to the dentist. And then she quit her job.
In the movies, or one of the restaurant shows on Food Network, everything works out. The doors open. It’s crowded. Everyone loves the food. All of the pain and struggle that went into getting the place up and running is totally worth it because now it’s here. Everything worked out. The dream came true.
Which, to a degree, was true for Black & Caspian. When I went with my family the last Saturday in January, it was totally packed. People coming in, waiting for a table to open. Nights in February, walked by, same thing. Their brunch has a good crowd on the weekend. The word is getting out. They’ve been featured in the Tribune, Chicago Eater, FoodGuru. Momentum is starting to build.
But what they don’t put in the movies is the scene when something called the Coronavirus, the biggest pandemic in 100 years, breaks out two months into your new restaurant’s run. Suddenly all of the restaurants in Chicago can no longer have guests. Just like that. Out of nowhere, everything changed. And the only choice restaurant owners have is to adjust, taking another step forward into the unknown.
Part 2 will be more about Leyla and Ahmet’s background coming all the way from Azerbaijan and Turkey to Lakeview, Chicago. It’ll also be more about the food, about adjusting to be delivery/pickup.
Medium Rare (despite the name) is not normally a food blog, but I want to use this space in the coming weeks to feature some of my favorite restaurants in my neighborhood. Running a restaurant is never easy, especially right now, and it’s important we support these local spots through a difficult time. You can check out Black & Caspian’s menu right here and they also setup a GoFundMe page to help support their employees.
Tune in next Monday for Part 2 and more Chicago restaurant stories throughout April. You can also subscribe to the blog via email below. See you next week!
I was born and raised in Midland, Michigan and moved here to Chicago a couple years ago after graduating from Hope College. I live in the city with my beautiful wife Ashley.
A little bit about me – I go to bed early, I enjoy greasy food and would wear sweatpants everyday if I were allowed to. I just signed up for a year-long Divvy membership, but could very well be the slowest bicyclist in Chicago.
I write the Medium Rare blog and will have a new post up every Monday.
The other night, as I began my prayers, I hesitated for a moment. Then I prayed:
Thank you Lord, for my being bored today.
The reason I prayed that was because I realized I had the opportunity to be bored. I woke up that morning, got dressed, walked my daughter’s dog, did the dishes, did the laundry, worked on my latest crochet project. It doesn’t sound boring does it? It is when that routine is on repeat daily. We’re all in the Ground Hog Day movie.
Before the COVID 1-9 virus (Coronavirus) pandemic hit, my routine wouldn’t be that much different except that when I got bored, I would head out on the bus and train to a museum and meet a friend for a little cultural enrichment. If a friend or relative wasn’t available, I would go by myself. I’m an only child. I can do “all by myself” really well.
I’m grateful for the boredom because I actually wake up every morning to be bored. My family, extended family and friends are all healthy.
So if you’re bored, be grateful that you’re bored during the COVID-19 pandemic. It means you have another day to live on repeat.
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Any x by y matrix plan has one big risk… but also one big advantage.
The biggest risk: People in your downline might think they don’t have to promote and just wait for your spillover.
The biggest advantage: Still, it’s a great way to build a deep team quickly… if you and the people in your team understand that they shouldn’t just sit and wait for it to happen.
The following 3 steps you need to follow and teach to build a successful team:
1. Find 2 people… It doesn’t really matter if it’s e.g. a 2×15 forced matrix or wider. If the matrix is wider than 2, or even unlimited wide, I recommend to start with 2 and then go wider when your team has been fully build at least 4 levels deep.
2. Next, build a relationship with them, teach them these 3 easy steps and motivate them until they find 2 people on their own.
3. Then motivate your 2 people to motivate their 2 people to also find 2 people … etc.
I believe this is a much better way to build a successful team. And not to mass promote and hope that a few in the masses you sponsor build a team on their own… but instead motivate to build the team… all the way down.
If you mass promote… you might be able to initially build a big downline… but since there will be no relationship, it will fall apart fast as well.
If you or somebody in your team has a big list of people to email to, then you or those people could send a message to all, telling them that you are looking for 2 leaders only. Ask them to email you back and tell you “why” you should choose them. Then pick the 2 best ones… and move one with step 2 above.
Also if a downline member is struggling… and no matter how hard he or she tries, he or she is not able to find two on their own… e.g. due to lack of people he or she knows… then you could do such a mailing on their behalf.
The primary approach that works best is to talk via chat first with the people you know already. Those, that we already have a relationship with.
If that doesn’t generate your 2 leaders… then you could use the mailing approach looking for two leaders as I described before.
But what should you tell people during the chat or in the email message you write to find your two leaders?
This is the point where you need to do your homework. Look very closely at the program for which you want to build a successful team for. Answer yourself the following questions:
1. What is the product or service that this program sells?
2. What main benefits does the product or service provide the customer with?
3. What makes the product or service better than those offered by the competition?
4. How much does the product or service cost?
5. How does the product compensation plan work?
6. What is necessary to break even and get into profit?
You noticed that I mentioned everything related to money at the end? Yes, I did order the above list by priority on purpose.
When you answer yourself those questions, keep always in mind to answer to most elementary question everybody has… which is:
What is in it for me? Also often called WIIFM. Once you learn to answer that question, you will be easily able to find your two leaders.
BTW… there is a shortcut to your homework assignment.
Ask your sponsor to answer the six questions above… then check and confirm those answers are accurate and match your own opinion about the program. This can save you time and strengthen the relationship with your own sponsor as you work with him together to answer them.
Tip: There are millions of programs out there on the net and many people, including me, fall easily prey to start joining too many at once. The grass always seems to look greener on the other side. 😉
I live now by the following rule…
Earn with two programs (meaning: be in profit) before you even consider to join one new one. And I recommend that you too do that.
What was once a mildly tart collaboration ale with New Belgium, way back in 2013, is now, essentially, a peach lager. Why did I wait so long to drink this bomber of 2023m2 Soft Sour Ale? I don’t know. But with the shelter in place, I’ve been saying “Yes!” to opening anything.
The first, 2023m2, brewed at Half Acre last month, is a soft sour ale that features the delicate complexity of a well designed New Belgium beer. A partial kettle souring process and light use of Maresh and Sumac all lend an equal hand in delivering a full experience. The numerical name ties into the area measurement of an actual Half Acre. Our hope, though, is to again brew together in the year 2023 and send that beer to the first group of people living on Mars. This project is underway and if all goes well, some wild folks will be living on the red planet. They’re going to need some beer.
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So, I decided to open what I thought would be a nicely aged sour from the boys, and girls, over at Half Acre. Keep in mind, Half Acre is brewing some of the best sours money can buy these days. Back then, they barely ventured into this territory.
I opened it, and before I knew it, it was erupting like a volcano. So, right away, a third was wasted on the cutting room floor. I poured half into a snifter and left half for Vernon on the back porch. We have been doing this a lot lately, to save some calories and try a bunch of different beers. He comes down, grabs the beer and leaves me Oops All Berries from Lil’ Beaver. It’s fun to trade, almost like baseball cards.
As you can see from the comments above, it was never really a sour beer. Some reviews went as far as to call it an APA or a Berliner. I would echo those sentiments. Seven years is hard on any beer, but I thought for some reason this would mature better than it did?
There’s a half-inch of head retention but almost no nose. It doesn’t really smell like anything. I feel like a broken record, but the only thing I could come up with was: Peach Lager. It has a hint of peach, and a light Kolsch flavor, but leans towards a lager.
I wish I had more to say about this beer but, really, I waited too long. I, the Cellar Dweller, shoulder the blame.
180 E. Pearson St. Unit 6206 in Chicago: $1,850,000 | Listed on Jan 29, 2020
This 2,754-square-foot Gold Coast home has three bedrooms and four bathrooms. Located in The Residence at Water Tower, the home offers panoramic views of the Lake Michigan and the downtown skyline. Enter through a foyer with cove lighting and a double door coat closet. The 45-foot living room and dining room spans the entire west side of the space. An updated white kitchen includes stainless steel appliances and a walk-in pantry. The master suite features a wall of built-in bookcases, two walk-in closets and two bathrooms. Building amenities include door staff, concierge and Ritz-Carlton room service.
Agent: Jennifer Ames of Engel & Volkers, 773-797-9500
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