Sometimes you luck out. My day job (the thing that actually, you know, feeds me) is in telecom, which is just a horrifyingly dumb industry. Anyone in telecom will adamantly confirm this for you, unless they are new to the job, delusional, or some sort of executive. But sometimes, you’ll work at a company that realizes this inherent dumbness and, as a means of apologizing to you for dumbing you down in a horrifying manner, they will occasionally end the work day at 11:30 to let you go hang out on Michigan Avenue for the day.
This half-day of respite has become a tradition of sorts at the company. During the weeks leading up to Christmas, the powers that be will pick a day where they feed us, make us drink beer, and turn us loose to go “shopping for Christmas gifts.” As a bachelor about town, “shopping for Christmas gifts” translates roughly to “buy drinks for me.” And so it goes.
However, this year I decided I would take the opportunity to visit downtown’s Christkindlmarket for a change. And then go to the bar.
If there’s one thing that Chicago does really well, it’s the street festival. This is particularly true during the summer months, when you can’t throw an empty can of PBR without hitting a beer tent or a port-a-john. Christmastime has Christkindlmarket, and I had never been previously. And lord knows I wasn’t going to make a concerted effort on my weekend to do anything other than laze about the apartment, so I knew this would be my only chance.
For those unfamiliar with this German tradition, the Christkindlmarket is a big open air marketplace devoted to the celebration of Christmas. The original markets originated in the collection of tiny duchies, principalities and sausage factories we now know as a united Germany. The first known market opened in Bautzen in 1384, and featured such German mainstays as the Nussknacker, Gebrannte Mandeln, Magenbrot and Zwetschgamannlam, which are figures made out of dried plums if Wikipedia is to be believed.
You won’t find Zwetchgamannlam at the downtown Chicago Christkindlmarket. In Chicago the rule is that if nobody in the entire city of nearly three million people can pronounce it then it’s not going in the festival.
If there are two words we do know, though, they are “brat” and “beer.” And with these two words in mind, my coworkers Anne, Adam and I set off from Michigan Avenue in search of Christmas. I’m thankful that they let me tag along, despite the fact that my name starts with a consonant.
I spent the bus ride down Michigan Avenue wound up with Christmas anticipation. We got off at Washington and walked the few blocks past Macy’s (formally Marshall Fields) up to Daley plaza. Under normal non-Christmas circumstances, the menacingly abstract Picasso sculpture scowls over the expanse of gray stone that paves the plaza. Today, the sculpture seemed begrudgingly resigned to the collection of red and white striped awnings huddled around its base.
We entered the small maze of stalls and headed directly to the beer tent where I rewarded myself with a delicious Spaten Optimator, the most formidably named beer I could find. I suppose if I had it to do all over again I would have gotten the spiced wine, which is apparently a staple of Christkindlmarket. Regardless, the beer was dark and tasty (this is where you would insert a “just how I like my men” joke if you were so inclined) and perfectly suited to perusing Christmasy knickknacks.
Unfortunately, knickknacks aren’t really my bag. And of course, the Christkindlmarket booths are replete with little ornament, nutcrackers (hey! Nussknackers!), and other pieces of Germania. I did enjoy the cuckoo clocks, which I can appreciate for their inherent silliness and the sheer amount of work it takes to craft them, but for the most part I just sipped beer and wandered.
The king of the ornament shops was Kathe Wohlfahrt, a branch of the international Christmas juggernaut based out of Rothenburg, Germany, which in its Chicago incarnation you could actually go in and walk around. Though when I say ‘walk around’ it implies the freedom to wander, and that was not the case. The store was set up in a folded line in the shape of a big 'u', which you patiently worked your way through along with the other ornament shoppers. Here was cold German efficiency combined with the warmth of holiday spirit – a veritable assembly line for Christmas cheer. As I shuffled my way through, a little pickle shaped ornament caught my eye – I was attracted to the absurdity of putting a pickle on your tree – so I bought it. It’s the first Christmas ornament I’ve ever owned. Now I just need a tree.
We ended our excursion at the brat and potato pancake tent. We ate at one of the standing tables and took in the crowds of people milling about, fondling ornaments and sipping spiced wine from little ceramic collector boots. I’d say we spent about a half an hour there, and the festival was a little sterile for my taste. I prefer my German street shindigs be a little more raucous, with more beer toting fraulein-types and various feats of strength and drunken daring. But for what it was – a family affair for Christmas cheer – it was nice.
We finished off our brat and the potato pancakes, both delicious, and in fulfillment of our company obligations headed directly to the nearest dive bar where we met up with more coworkers, some with names that even begin with consonants, and proceeded to spend the day doing what we do best. Merry Christmas to one and all.
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| Christmas with Picasso. (Source) |
Christkindlmarket Chicago
located at Daley plaza, Clark and Washington in downtown Chicago.
Admission is free and the festival ends December 24th.
Hours of operation: Sun – Thu 11am – 8pm, Fri – Sat 11am – 9pm, Christmas Eve 11am – 4pm
