Lola, Lolita

I don't talk about Cleveland much here. Mostly because there is a dearth of new Cleveland experiences of late. However, there is one on the schedule that I am very excited about.

I am going to Lolita.

Aside from having the awesomest name ever in the entire history of language, it is a reportedly excellent restaurant run by a reportedly excellent chef who is committed to a) staying in Cleveland b) making food that Clevelanders will appreciate c) pricing said food at under $30 a plate. The combination of the above makes me extremely happy that I will get to meet this chef and tour his kitchens.

The common reading for this year's incoming freshman class is The Soul of a Chef by Michael Ruhlman. I don't know if he succeeded in his goal of capturing the soul of a chef. But this book blows the last few common readings out of the water. It's actually readable, for one, if a little dry at times. And the middle section (the first is about a national chefery exam, the third about a chef and his journey towards his restaurant today) is all about Lola, (undergoing a move; the smaller Lolita is still open) and Michael Symon.

Michael Symon is the kind of person who is devoted to Cleveland. To putting it on the map, not as an imitation of some other city--Paris, New York--but as Cleveland, with its personality and sensibility intact. His restaurant is run like a giant family, and when I asked if we could get anything special on the evening (since we're promoting the book to over a thousand kids) we were told that Michael would be thrilled to speak with us, and of course we could take a tour.

These kind of things make me think that, with time, Believe in Cleveland (which always feels like it should rhyme, or have something equally resonant following it) will conquer. That more people will see this city for what it can be and not what it isn't. That Midwestern sensibility might be valued for the asset it is and not an obstacle to towering heights of excess. That my dad and I won't joke about the first sign of the Apocalypse being the Cavs, Indians, and Browns all winning championships. (though it is damn funny)

From the bridge at work, I can almost see my favorite work of public art, and it makes me smile every damn day.