Stuffed Figs

I'm gonna say the school year is in full swing.

That's gonna mean that I've gone to classes for 2 days now.

I'm already neck deep in annual market reports and

tear-outs of magazine ads.

I have more internet tabs open than members at a Gatsby party. 

...and I'm loving it. 

But a life of intellect cannot be supported by stale Chex Mix and 

sleepless nights of Adventure Time marathons.

We gotta fire up the intellectual lifestyle furnace right quick. 

Glasses. We are gonna wear glasses. 

We are gonna complete the New York Times crossword puzzle. 

Tea? Of course.

Figs. Cheese plates. Cured meats that aren't bacon. 

All present. 

Snatch up some beautiful Black Mission figs that have managed to escape 

being stuffed into Newton cookies.

Honor their victorious escape by slicing them in half 

and stuffing them with a mixture of

chopped fresh thyme leaves, honey, coarsely cracked black pepper

and goat cheese. 

Roll those decorated refugees in chopped pistachios. 

Let balsamic vinegar rain over them. 

Wrap them in prosciutto, squish them into a tasty hunk of bread.

Do as you please. 

You're fancy. You can't go wrong.  

To carry you through your thoughtful chin scratching and eyebrow arching,

here is a list of classic jams and my most favorite

pseudo-classy song selections. 

Until the next, chiclets. 

                                            

White Sangria Popsicles

The feeling of the first day of September is always 

what I imagine turning 50 will feel like.

It sneaks up on you like a little jerk

and then you have no choice but to greet it with handsome

amounts of destain and denial.

I'm there right now. 

I'm cursing under my breath at every social media mentioning of

"sweater weather and pumpkin flavored everything!"

Every advertisement for apple cider and every email 

from a professor is met with the meanest of mugs

from yours truly.

It's not fall, dammit! It's still summer. 

That's my equivalent of saying 

"I'm not over the hill! I'm young and super fresh!"

And instead of buying a sports car,

I ran to the farmers market and buried myself in summer fruits

and made some damn popsicles. 

Because if I'm eating popsicles, it can't be fall, right?

Correct. 

These aren't just any old fruit popsicles. 

No sir. 

They are winey boozy popsicles. 

Because what goes best with destain and denial?

Wine and booze. 

Always. 

They are essentially white summer sangria on a stick. 

If you can't get down with that, you

are super un-American

and also, probably a robot

and your demon creator forgot to insert your "good taste" chip. 

My condolences. 

Raise your pops, ladies and gents and let's all hold off on riding the 

leaves-and-sweaters-enthusiasm train

 for just a few more precious moments. 

Here is a tiny playlist to take you on
 the emotional roller coaster 
begining with joy and ending with ugly-crying to Don Henley 
that perfectly embodies this sad descend away from 
another beloved summer.

Until the next, cats. 

                                             

Logan Square Farmers Market

I've been on a bit of a culinary hiatus.

50% due to the fact that we currently do not have a functioning oven/stove

10% due to the daily grind

30% due to the fact that I just downloaded 

The Sims and have abandoned all other activities indefinitely. 

and 10% due to Doritos. 

Okay, actually mostly the Doritos part. You get it. 

They are the Jay Z of corn chip products. 

Watch the throne, Doritos. 

So instead of my confections and such, 
let's talk about other people doing cool stuff. 

I'm glad you're cool with it. 

The Logan Square farmers market.

BEST FARMERS MARKET OF ALL TIME

It isn't just your run of the mill "we got peaches! we got some beans over here!"

kind of farmers market. 

There are all kinds of funky vendors with interesting displays.

From fantastic local summer sausages hanging from

 an old-door-turned-sausage-holder

To snow cones boasting flavors like 

"Blueberry Lavender" and "Rhubarb & Pink Peppercorn" 

being churned from an old fashioned manual ice shaver.

There is nothing not to love.

The place is flooded with families and dogs .

There are sacks dangling by ankles with produce 

and fresh flowers overflowing out the top

and picnicers and 

PROSPERITY AND JOY.

Go. Just go. 

Until the next, dears. 

Around the Neighborhood - Antique Taco

See that mural behind that hip pair of consumers?

It has the human brain segmented into sections titled things like

"pork" and "cilantro" and "antiques."

That, my friends, is the most anatomically correct drawing of my brain

that I have seen.

 To date.

And that, 

(in addition to the funky vibe and cotton candy machine posted up outside)

 is precisely why I decided to venture into this quality establishment. 

I was not let down. 

In fact, it just kept escalating. 

Like a Barney Stinson playlist with a ton of Bon Jovi on it.

All rise, no fall. 

There is not a damn inch of this place that wasn't beautifully designed. 

I went a little picture-crazy. 

Like, if I were a paparazzi sent to capture the new royal baby,

and I turned around and saw this restaurant, 

I'd definitely just be like "see ya later, George!"

and run over there to take pictures instead. 

Nobody hire me as a paparazzi. I will fail you. 

Unless it's a taco paparazzi. 

Taco-razzi. 

We shared their "taco salad" and "chicken tacos"

I'm putting parenthesis around these because they weren't quite these things.

Their menu is lovely and simplistic, however it's minimalism doesn't 

quite suit the content. 

If a menu says TACOS- pork, chicken, beef, yadda yadda

and nothing else, you're going to assume that you're in for some standard material.

Oh contraire. 

The chicken tacos were essentially Indian food tacos,

with curried chicken served with cucumbers, yogurt sauce, 

and pickled onions. 

Unbelievably delicious, but I would venture to say that 

they should be a bit more up front with what 

the phrase "chicken taco" means in this establishment.

The salad was marketed as a "taco salad"

but was actually a kale salad with a savory sesame vinaigrette, 

strawberries, spicy peanuts, craisins and queso fresco.

Again, totally delicious and unexpected, 

But no kind of "taco salad" I've ever heard of. 

Confusion aside, everything was delicious and refreshingly 

unexpected. 

Paired with their subtle yet STRONG rosemary margaritas

and bountiful amounts of eclectic decor,

I was the smitten-est. 

Antique Taco is a cheap and local place to try out some interesting flavors.

It's located in the hipster heart of Wicker Park, right off of Milwaukee & Wood. 

*and their online menu lists menu items in full detail!*

Until the next, Babes!