little blog on the prairie

Before Friday night, in my mind Escobar was the wonderfully wicked Colombian drug dealer on Nip/Tuck, one of my unabashedly favorite things on TV these days.

That’s until we ventured out to Escobar’s, Champaign’s newest Latin-fusion restaurant that opened Feb. 6. The proprietors are the owner/chef tandem from Milo’s in Urbana, and because of my fond feelings for all things Milo’s I was eager to get in the door. I don’t claim to be a foodie — I leave that to Lisa at Champaign Taste — so take this for what it is.

Here’s my assessment:

Ambiance. The place is LOUD. I mean LOUD. My 11-month-old could have screamed her heart out and no one would have noticed. So if you’re looking for a romantic, intimate evening, go somewhere else, but with a group it is appropriate. The place is decorated beautifully — from the floors to the sinks in the bathroom. But the lighting is so dim that it was hard to see some of the little touches here and there.

The service. Attentive, although hardly impeccable. We had to ask for bread plates; Mr. lbotp, who had the sirloin, was not given a steak knife — a little odd.

The food. We saved the best for last — I loved the Mexican chocolate cake. I had the tequila-lime shrimp, which was succulent and well done, but the rice and vegetables were a little skimpy and lukewarm. My husband’s sirloin was average, although he enjoyed the sauce. But my dog could have made better mashed potatoes that what he received.

Overall. I couldn’t help but have the feeling that I was at Milo’s with a little jalapeno-viniagarette here and a pinch of tequila-lime there. Don’t get me wrong, I lurve Milo’s, and I have often professed that here. But even the way the menu is organized is just like Milo’s. And the selection of foods seemed to be somewhat familiar. I guess the similarity, for me, was disappointing in the sense that I was hoping for something different but just as good as Milo’s, if not possibly better. I was a little let down by my Escobar’s experience, but I have to admit that perhaps my expectations were too high. I would definitely go back there again, but next time it will be for the Sunday brunch.

(For another review of Escobar’s that talks about alcohol — we’re not big drinkers — check out Lisa’s recent tome. She has pics of the mexican chocolate cake and the beautiful restroom sink.)

It’s over.

It was a difficult decision, but somewhat mutual. We had grown apart.

You see, the person I trusted must in the world — with those agile hands and good conversational skills — has moved on. Her life was about to change, and I wasn’t going to be a part of it anymore. It’s time to catch another one of those many hairdresser fish in the vast sea. Our schedules just don’t jive anymore, and my locks are paying the price.

I now must release my wavy raven tresses to someone else. So I am going to take the plunge this week and allow someone new into my hair’s finicky life.

Wish me luck.

First, the new labor and delivery wing opens at Carle (where our friend Pammiecakes works), where every new mother has her own private room and supposed they even have wi-fi in the delivery rooms, so you can upload your photos of the new baby instantaneously. When Peanut was born a mere 11 months ago, we were thanking our lucky stars that we didn’t have to share a room, and mr. lbotp had to wait until he went home to share our good news with the rest of the world.

This morning, the news that a Motherhood Maternity clothing store is coming to a mall near us shook my small world. When Peanut was gestating, I shopped almost everywhere but C-U (including a trip to the Motherhood store in Bloomington) to avoid becoming a contestant on TLC’s What Not To Wear.

What’s next, a Babies R’ Us within our borders?

I (Heart) Explosives

Seen on: A red Honda Civic Hatchback with one of those Jesus fish

Where: the corner of Kirby and Mattis

When: Saturday afternoon before the ice storm

• I once owned a sweatshirt with a big picture of a certain local university’s mascot on it. I was 8, and it was a gift from my then-best friend. It was orange and really ugly, and I hardly ever wore it.
• The potholes on Windsor Road are driving me insane.
• I am a bad mother. Peanut fell off the changing table today on my watch.

take them to O’Charleys.

See, at O’Charleys, servers are being instructed not to give out lemons to customers willy-nilly. Evidently, there was a big freeze out in California (which produces the great majority of this country’s lemon supply) and prices have skyrocketed.

So it wasn’t a mistake when our O’Charleys server conveniently left off a lemon when I specifically requested it with my water, as I am wont to do. Just beyond our table — which was right next to the drink station — was a directive from the management ordering servers to curtail lemon usage at all costs, and that failure to comply would be dealt with severely.

This calls for some pun or something, but I’m not feeling clever enough to think of one. Lemons or no lemons, O’Charleys wins brownie points for its free kids menu.

• There’s still snow to shovel at the lbotp household. If KC (the killer cockapoo) had her way, we’d dig out the whole backyard so she could have some room to poop. Yes, I said room to poop. It seems that the little tunnels that we dug just aren’t enough area for her dainty doo-doo.

• Krannert is hosting a free Swing Dance with live music tomorrow evening at 5 p.m. They’ve promoted the heck out of it, even though swing dance is, well, so 1995. It does look like fun.

• Champaign Unit 4 schoolkids may have enjoyed their three snow days, but will they have to make them up at the end of the year and delay summer vacation? Inquiring minds want to know.

• Lucky Carbondale: Unoffical St. Patrick’s Day has spread to Southern Illinois University. Vomit in the streets for everyone!

• Brace yourselves for this weekend’s invasion of the grapplers. And don’t try to go to the McDonald’s or Friday’s on the corner of Kirby and Neil for the next few days.

Barbie Dolls for the Greater Champaign market:

“Savoy Barbie”
This Barbie is sold only at Savoy Plaza Shops. She comes with an assortment of imitation Kate Spade handbags, a Lexus SUV, a long-haired foreign dog named Honey and a cookie-cutter house. Available with or without face lift. Workaholic Ken sold only in conjunction with the augmented Barbie version.



“Urbana Barbie”
This modern-day homemaker Barbie is available with Ford Wind star Minivan and matching gym outfit. She gets lost easily and has no full-time occupation. Traffic jamming cell phone and grad-student husband sold separately.


“Northeast Urbana Barbie”
This recently paroled Barbie comes with a 9mm, a 1993 Chevy with tinted windows, and a Meth Lab kit. This model is only available after dark and must be paid for in cash (preferably small, untraceable bills) …unless you are a cop, then we don’t know what you are talking about.

“Southwest Champaign Barbie”
This yuppie Barbie comes with your choice of BMW convertible or Hummer H2. Included are her own Starbucks cup, credit card and country club membership . Also available for this set are Shallow Ken and Private School Skipper. You won’t be able to afford any of them.

Just so you know.

Why in G-d’s name did it take the University until 8:47 a.m. this morning to cancel classes? I happened to be out, and boy did I feel sorry for all those unsuspecting kids waiting for the MTD.

There’s a reason they call it a blizzard, folks.

The New York Times doesn’t like us, and that’s OK. First they tried to slap a scarlet letter on the Illinois football coach Ron Zook, who has battled rumors, innuendo and gossip about his blockbuster recruiting class (aka the 20-plus young men who will play football for the Illini next year). Then there was the big hullaboo in our state capital, where our state’s junior senator from Chicago announced his intent to run for president in 2008. Our friend Tom Kacich makes note of a catty remark from a New York Times reporter in Springfield to cover the Barack Obama announcement.

I sense a trend.

Just a quick note: a couple of our regular commenters, and one in particular (sorry Matt!), have drawn the ire of wordpress’ robotic spam net. I check the spam filter periodically, but if you notice that your comment has disappeared into the blogosphere, please drop me a line at lbotp16(at)gmail(dot)com. Danke.