Back in January (WHAT? It’s been a hectic year, okay?) my friends Smell and Jeremiah came into town, and as a thank you for picking them up at O’Hare on a Friday night during rush hour, they offered to take Swede and me to dinner.
*Note to readers: Will chauffeur for food.
Swede happened to have an about-to-expire deal voucher for Tre Kronor, a Swedish restaurant up on the north side of the city, and we decided there was no better time to put it to use. And thus, check another goal off my 2012 goal list.
(And no, for the record, Swede does NOT only eat at Swedish restaurants, nor is his fridge stocked three-deep with lingonberry jam. [Though maybe it should be. It’s delicious.] Save for approximately five or six specific items, Swede will eat just about anything from any cuisine. And I’m sure he’d be happy to come over for dinner and prove this to you himself.) (Check your day runner, Swede! You’re about to get some dinner plans!)
So! Tre Kronor!
I should preface that my enjoyment of this restaurant was twofold. Not only was the food delicious, but no matter what, this restaurant will always have a special place in my heart, as I was asked a very, very important question that night at dinner.
“McPolish, will you marry us?”
I was shocked. Flattered. Taken aback. Humbled. Overjoyed. You guys, for real, officiating a wedding has been on my life list for some time! And I don’t have to wear a frilly dress with dyed-to-match shoes! All of these thoughts and feelings ran through my mind when Smell and Jeremiah asked. And of course, when I got done being all bug-eyed and flabbergasted that they had asked, I said yes.
That’s right, my friends, I am now, thanks to the Universal Life Church, available for weddings.
*Note to readers: Will marry people for food.
So my feelings on Tre Kronor may be a bit colored by rose-tinted, civil unionizing glasses. I just can’t help it.
Restaurant #3 of 12: Tre Kronor
Intimacy. Not the canoodling kind. I mean, if you want to canoodle over your strudel (wait, that’s German. I think. Whatever. Go with it.) you can, but I mean that the restaurant, while small, didn’t feel cramped to me. It just felt like a cozy dinner party.
Swedish meatballs. Heh. I said balls. If you think Ikea is the penultimate Swedish meatball, think again. And go to Tre Kronor and try theirs. Or try the pork dish stuffed with…apples?…maybe?…If I remember correctly?…Either way, great food options all around.
Parking. You might find it silly to consider this such a “pro” thing, but have you ever BEEN to the north side of Chicago? Parking there sucks. SUCKS. It’s Sucky McSuckerton, which is why I typically avoid the north side at all costs (except when friends are in town and there is corn to be had). But Tre Kronor is far enough north that parking isn’t an issue.
BYOB. That isn’t a con for the restaurant, actually. That’s more just a con for ME because OMG WHAT IF I FORGOT TO BRING BOOZE WITH ME?
Lighting. While I appreciate the aforementioned intimacy, I could stand for a few more wattages overhead as it was a little hard to read the menu (and take photos of our yummy food, unfortunately. Can you even tell the brie in the picture was delicious? And had apples and honey accompanying it? No? Exactly. Word to the wise, your grandmother with cataracts will probably as you to read her the menu). Though I don’t know that more light would have made a difference, as I pretty much rushed into the restaurant with Swedish meatballs on my mind, no menu needed.
Tre Kronor, on a scale of one to go?
Three down, nine more to go.