Zed is dead, baby

And I know this because he died in my stomach, several times.

On Friday, we packed up the family truckster and headed to Chicago. My city. The city that I love more than Dove Chocolates and cookie batter. The city that I love even more than Dove Chocolates dipped in cookie batter. I haven't seen my niece and nephew in many months, so we paid them, and the rest of the Big Momma clan a visit.

One of the reasons I love Chicago is because of the food. So many choices, so little time. The only thing I didn't eat was my niece and nephew and not because I didn't try. They are so very cute and yummy looking. I told Mr. Big Momma that I wanted to melt them down and spread them on some delicious, crusty french bread and nom, nom, nom, nom them until I couldn't eat another bite. But, thankfully for my clan, Mr. Big Momma shoved an Italian Beef in my mouth and I quickly went on with my day.

My BIL E is the master of restaurant selection. Not that he could really pick a bad spot in Chicago, but he truly looks at it as an art form. Saturday night we went to ZED which is one of those Brazilian meat places. For the bargain price of $55 per person, you can eat as much delicious meat as you can handle. There are magic rocks on the table, that when put next to your plate, POOF, meat shows up. I thought that I must have died and gone to heaven. At least until the next morning when Zed died a gruesome death inside my tummy. I got the died part right, but heaven it wasn't. Next time I will need to show some restraint or master the art of binging and purging. Not sure yet which I will choose.