Beaudevin
A layover stop at an airport wine bar, where we sat with a glass of Sangiovese and a modest cheese plate while waiting for our flight.
Photo credit: Photo by Dan Denney
Airports are strange little purgatories. Thousands of people trapped between where they’ve been and where they’re going, paying outrageous prices for the privilege of sitting under fluorescent lights while someone announces another gate change. At O’Hare, where time seems to move according to rules known only to the airlines, finding a wine bar feels like a small act of rebellion.
Beaudevin offered a seat, a glass of Sangiovese, and something generously described as a cheese “plate.” The quotation marks are doing some heavy lifting. Airport food has a remarkable ability to take a perfectly respectable idea and reduce it to something that looks like it was assembled by a committee concerned primarily with packaging. Still, cheese is cheese, and a decent Italian red can forgive a surprising number of culinary sins.
The Sangiovese did the important work. A little fruit, a little acidity, something worth sipping slowly while the parade of rolling suitcases and hurried travelers continued outside. No reason to rush. The next flight wasn’t going anywhere without us, at least not according to the departure board.
Nobody dreams of spending an afternoon eating overpriced cheese at an airport. But travel isn’t all beautiful destinations and memorable meals. Sometimes it’s the hours in between, finding a comfortable chair, ordering another glass of wine, and making peace with the fact that you’re temporarily a resident of O’Hare. There are worse places to wait.