Across the Lincoln Highway: Geneva Ale House

For "Chapter Two" of our trip along the Illinois portion of the Lincoln Highway, I'll rewind a bit back to Joliet, where I left off. We had gone into Toy Town and the Chalkboard, because 78% of what you do on a vacation to get away from your children is shop for things you think will make them squeal, and talk to each other about them constantly. And this place has a lot of very unique toys, and was a lot of fun.

This guy, this guy is everywhere along the highway, and the Chalkboard is no exception:

I mean, can we talk about somebody else? (I guess it's his road, after all.)

Chris had printed out lots of helpful guide sheets for every town we were going to be in. Some of them were mysterious leads, containing only a name and an address for an establishment. We just had to check out the "Dragon Light," since we're not just nerds - we're fantasy nerds - and we couldn't imagine what it could be. Something with a costumed dungeon-master greeting us with fliers, and wall sconces in the shape of claw hands holding torches, I was sure. When we arrived, there was a collective, "...Oh."

Chinese restaurant. Hadn't thought of that.

Took this one because it reminded me of Pops, of course.

We drove on through Plainfield, where there were man-made heron nests on the Lake Renwick forest preserve, and signs advertising some service called "slabjacking." (Not sure what that is, or when I might require it, but it doesn't sound minor). We drove through Aurora, which we were well familiar with, so had decided to spend some time elsewhere. Noteworthy establishments, however, included a Tastee-Freez (original 1967 signage intact), and a Doggie Diner that I'd love to check out another time. A time when I don't care what encased meats I put into my body. "Hey-ohhhh!"

We cruised (that's what you do on the LH) into Batavia and St. Charles, where we had reservations to spend the night at a deep discount (thank you, Nicole, for telling me to get on that Priceline train). There was hey! Another Tastee-Freez! And also, a namesake for me:

We didn't go into Gina's, but headed out to the Geneva Ale House that night. On walking in, I didn't think too much of the atmosphere: the place was mostly small tables, and had a lunch-place kind of a feel. But when we sat down, we were greeted with quite a warm and friendly selection of beers.

Chris had the Tripel Karmelict, which we both thought was delicious. Hey baby! Cheers!

(He was happy not to be driving). I ordered the Flying Dog In-Heat Wheat, which I liked, but not so well as Chris' beer. Good thing we swap spit.

One final disappointment was with the onion straws, which weren't cooked in hot enough oil, and were on the limp and greasy side.

But the burgers? Oh my. The burgers. Served on my beloved Labriola pretzel buns (which I can find at local grocery stores here, halle-loo!), I really could not have added anything to, or taken anything away from them.

And as I always say, if you weren't the biggest fan of your beer, try, try again! (And if you liked it, you should order another one of the same. Either way, you pretty much end up with another beer). This time I tried what I believe was a beer from BridgePort brewery in Portland, Oregon. But you know, after the first drink, my documentation falls off a bit. Anyway, I liked it (another benefit to being the second beer. It always tastes better than the first did).

One more funny note about the Geneva Ale House is that they have the nerve to give a famous figure, other than Lincoln, a bit of time. Here is the "Most Interesting Man in the World" in a place of honor: on the wall opposite the toilet in the ladies' room.

Our next culinary adventure takes place in Dixon, Illinois! Stay tuned for the nervous breakdown I had in getting there.

On Your Way... To the Lincoln Highway. With Nerds.

Time to take you along the culinary portion of the journey we took last October. We wanted to drive the entire Illinois portion of the Lincoln Highway, stopping wherever we may. We did this for two reasons: one, because we're cheap and wanted to save our big bucks for a trip to Napa in the spring, and two, because we're nerds. It was actually wonderful. I learned so much about my state, and the history of this amazing historical road that stretched (and still does) from coast to coast. When you come off the deadly monotony of the highway travel, with the unchanging scenery that we've become used to, it provided endless sources of fun and (yeah, I'll say it) LEARNING along the way. Don't get me started. Just rent the movie "Cars."

I won't bore you with are pictures from the whole trip. I'll just bore you with the food-related pictures. If you're really interested, come to my house and I'll show you the whole photobook I made, including every marker, mural and gazebo we stopped to photograph.

Oh, well. Just one.

Aw, lookit 'im. He's cute, isn't he, folks? Are you lookiting? LOOKIT.

Anyway, Route 30 starts on the eastern edge of Illinois in Lynwood. I don't know if you've been there, but I wouldn't plan a trip any time soon. It may be the most frightening place I've ever been, well above Humboldt Park, where I used to live and shared a block with more than one corpse that I viewed on the news while I did my morning workout. This was some sub-Detroit, post-apocalyptic shit, folks. Boarded, abandoned buildings everywhere, trash-littered streets, and just a couple poor souls shuffling zombie-like along the streets in bedroom slippers and toting plastic sacks (containing, I assume, human heads for snacking). Even the photo opportunity of a hot-dog painted propane tank couldn't prompt me to get out of the car in Lynwood, so I contented myself with recording "fun-spelled" words on the signs we passed, such as the "Dari Whip Snack Stop" (in Steger, where I really wished they'd gone the distance and eliminated the "h"), and "Unlimited Food's" (owned, I suppose, by the Food). With no transition whatsoever, the war-zone of  Lynwood became the mind-blowing historical mansions of Chicago Heights. They must have some amazing burglar alarms. You know. For the zombies.

We drove through Frankfort, Mokena, New Lenox (which has an Aurelio's AND a Chicago Dough, just like Bradley-Bourbonnais), and onto the glorious Joliet. We stopped into the Rialto Theater, the Chalkboard and Toy Town, and our first Lincoln memorial. We passed by the Big Chill Bar and Grill, Joe's, and the Ace Drive-In, all of whom I'd love to hear about or stop into one day. We did go into Dan's Homemade Candies, which has been open in the same building since 1919. Even before that, the place was another candy shop.

I only wish I had photographed the candy. Honestly, I think I just began wolfing it down all too quickly. What can I say? Absolute perfection. Hand-dipped, handmade candies that will make you ashamed you held Fannie May in such high esteem for so long. (Fanny is good, but it ain't this good). And it was here that I decided I would photograph not only the places we went to on our trip, but the people I spoke to along the way. I didn't get her name, but she told me all about Dan's, and she was the only one who didn't run into the back of the kitchen when I whipped out the camera.

Go to Dan's, fill your nostrils with the scent of (and your belly with the reality of) chocolate, particularly their mouth-watering caramel apples. Next stop: Plainfield, Illinois!

Mill Race Inn

The scenic Mill Race Inn in Geneva, IL has closed its doors. The restaurant was situated on the banks of the Fox River, featuring an incredible view. The building was a blacksmith shop in 1892, and has been expanded since. Chris and I enjoyed a lovely meal there a couple of months ago, as a part of a road trip we took to drive the entire Illinois portion of the historic Lincoln Highway. The food was very good, though I think they catered to an older crowd with rich, home-style fare. Here are the photos I took while there.

We absolutely fell in love with Geneva, sitting at our brightly lit table, looking at the Fox River in its October glory. Ignore the trash can:

The salad featured more bleu cheese on the salad and in the dressing than I have perhaps eaten in my entire life.

I had the swedish meatballs... They were fabulous, and so was the pasta.

Chris had the slow-roasted breast of turkey, and said it was like an early Thanksgiving.

Anyway, sorry to post about food that you can't get any more... The restaurant sits in such a terrific location, I have to think that when the economy turns around, someone will take advantage and open a new eatery there. I would personally like to see some food served that is a little more on the modern side (and perhaps lighter: everything on the menu featured a cream sauce it seemed), but I must say the food Mill Race served was the tip-top of its kind.

Wayne's Pizza

About six months ago, I found out my cholesterol was slightly high. That was the wake-up call that I needed to lose the last fifteen pounds of pregnancy weight. Coming off Thanksgiving weekend (okay, week if I'm being honest), I'm back to eating big salads and righting myself again. But the week sure was fun while it lasted! And hey... Now that the weight is off, it's all part of the maintenance plan. (Meaning, I can hog out now and then.)

When one of those times comes around, one wicked place to eat is Wayne's Pizza in Arlington Heights, IL. They have a great thin crust pizza (my favorite is spinach and mushroom), and their "nibbles" are amazing. I love the cauliflower bites. I could drink a liter of their ranch dressing (yeah, if that sounds disgusting, try it... And then you tell me). And recently (dammit), I discovered that their chicken wings are my favorite (even over Hooters' wings, which I heard a rumor that they have changed, anyway). This place isn't paying me, so believe me when I say that if you eat here all the time? Your health is gonna suffer. But if you eat at Wayne's now and then... I think it might make your life better.

Portillo's Chocolate Cake

I'm somewhat back "on the wagon" right about now, watching my calories and portion sizes. Of course, this doesn't apply to weekends, or holidays, or that time of the month. In fact, with all my trangressions, I'm really surprised that I've lost any of the fifty pounds that I gained while pregnant at all. Twenty of that was baby, and whatever the baby is in that I don't really want to think about. The rest has been coming off slowly, and none more slowly than these last eight pounds or so. I'm determined to do it, but no one can stop me from fondly reminiscing about the type of eating that I did during my last month of pregnancy. That was the stuff!

Two weeks before Ruby came along, I wanted cake. I wanted Portillo's chocolate cake. But a whole Portillo's cake is a little on the expensive side at about $18. And buying one piece per day until you have a baby (because you're kidding yourself into thinking you just want ONE piece), as I knew I would end up doing, is even more expensive. (Oh yeah, a piece of cake per day? As that commercial says, "I was there.") I heard a rumor on the radio: the caller claimed that he used to work at Portillo's, and guess what? The cake is just Duncan Hines' Moist Deluxe chocolate cake mix (some claim it is Betty Crocker, whatever), mixed with 3 eggs, 1 cup of water, and 1 cup of mayonnaise. Yes, mayonnaise. Just ignore what else it says on the box, and just add those things, and bake at the temp the box recommends. I don't know if this rumor is true or just an urban myth, but let me tell you, I will not ever need another cake recipe. No seriously, I'm good with this one.



I topped it with store frosting, and it was fantastic. No muss, no mess, just a teeny bit of measuring, and it was just as good as Portillo's, if not better. I think it is even better than the Hershey's chocolate cake recipe, which until now has set the bar for me. And I didn't need to boil water! The cake was so good, in fact, that I made one the very next week. And then I literally had a baby.



This last one is my favorite. At the school cafeteria, they always served chocolate cake with white vanilla frosting. I had it all through gradeschool. It was one of the only things the school did well - always so moist (and I seriously hate that word, but "tender" is for meat, and "damp" and its ilk are even worse) and perfect. I was always so geeked to see them serving it, and it is still my favorite.

You gotta try it, but I'm warning you: be nine months pregnant, or have guests over... Because you WILL eat it by yourself!

AMENDMENTS: I just made one of these with Light Mayo (Hellman's) and it worked... But it is definitely NOT the same cake. Just a decent, light cake.

Also, did you know that coffee brings out chocolate flavor? Use a cold cup of coffee instead of the cup of water, and it brings out the cocoa flavor (you won't taste the coffee.)

Marinara Sauce from Scratch

I have some friends who, since the advent in recent years of competitive cooking shows, have flattered me by saying that I should try out for one of those shows. The truth is, I am really just someone who likes to eat, and experiment at home. I have no clue as to certain types of cooking technique. There are areas I just haven't ventured into yet (see the following), and areas I never intend to venture into (why would I try and make great Chicago-style pizza at home when Lou Malnati's makes the perfect pie?) I would be sure to make a total ass of myself on national television. Want a for instance? Here is my shame: until last summer, I never ever made marinara sauce from scratch - meaning, from real, whole, fresh tomatoes.

But you can't say that about me now!



I have friends, blog-reading friends, and adamant strangers tell me that (especially as an Italian) I should be loaded into a cannon and shot straight into hell for not making my sauce from scratch every week. Maybe they're right. But how do you sustain this 100% of the time? Humbly and truly, I just do not get it. The sauce I was taught to make comes from canned tomatoes. That's not really "from scratch." (Maybe that's what some of these people mean, as opposed to jar sauce. Well, if that's what they mean, then THEY'RE not making sauce from scratch, either.) Anyway, that's all I've ever done: either dad's sauce or marinara from canned tomatoes, or a good jar sauce when in a hurry, sick, or hung-over. (I know, I know. But don't throw your tomatoes. Save them for sauce!)



Here's what happened. Ma came to visit, and brought (sorry Ma) a SHIT-ton of beautiful, fresh tomatoes and a lorry-load of okra. What I usually do with tomatoes from her garden is grab a salt shaker, slice, and eat. But this was more than we could have gotten through before the fully ripe beauties went bad. We ate our fill (she, Chris and I) at every meal, and I still had a ton left when she left. So I called my brother and said, "How the hell do I do this?" He said to wash up the tomatoes (natch) and to dip them for a minute or two in boiling water. Then you could peel off the skin, and seed them. These garden tomatoes were so ripe, I just had to run them under hot tap water. I peeled off the skin, split them open in my hands, and scooped out the seeds with my fingers. I set them all aside in a bowl.

I heated a deep skillet with some olive oil, then heated some garlic in it. I finely diced as much onion as I wanted in it, then heated that. I added some "baby bellos," (small portobello mushrooms), and sweated those. Then I added the tomatoes, as much fresh oregano and basil as I thought proper, and some red wine. I kept letting it cook down, adding salt, pepper and about a bit of sugar as I went (it cuts the acid). I just kept tasting it, and soon it was definitely sauce. Whoopee! The bellos are optional, and I like to add a bit of red pepper flakes, but if you don't care for a spicier sauce, you could leave that out, too. You could add green pepper but... guh. Not for this kid.

I had plenty of sauce left over for pizza and pasta throughout the week, so perhaps if I ever get a deep freeze and the garden going next year, I can make enough over a summer to ALWAYS make my sauce from scratch (or at least defrost it that way).

Kinder Surprise

I've told you how much I love Joe Caputo's grocery store. Let me tell you how much. I dunno if you've read between the lines here, but Chris and I were seriously considering a move to Portland, which is just a wonderful place (now we'll find out if Chris' mom is really reading this blog.) We have 80-85% decided against it, and for Chris the big reasons are because his family and his sports teams are here. For me, the reasons to stay are the theatre scene and the extra-work I've been doing here, the fact that I am a true cold-weather jogger, the job that I love, and Joe Caputo's. Not necessarily in that order. I also just know that my cat wouldn't go poo for the entire three days it might take to get out there, and then he would detonate. He's a nervous poo-er.

So I got to take Ma into Caputo's when she was here, and she loved it, too. In the checkout line, which is always long, I freaked when I noticed this:



Ma has a degree in French, and she's always loved all things French. When Dave and I were kids, she had Asterix and Obelix hardcover books around the house, which she would generally have to read to us (as they were in French, and I think the Romans spoke in Latin.) The names translate to Asterisk (because he is the small one), and Obelisk (because he is the large one.) Anyway, later on, cartoons of the two appeared on the Disney Channel, if memory serves... And they were hilarious. The cartoon is based on Gaul's resistance to Roman occupation. The Gaul's drink a potion that makes them stronger, all except for Obelix -- who fell in a vat of it as a baby.

Caputo's has a wide selection of not only Italian stuff, but lots of imported food. So I had to grab one of the egg toys, for old times sake. They were little chocolate eggs with a prize inside of "Asterix and the Vikings."



When you open it, there is a little egg capsule inside the chocolate:



And inside the egg capsule is a figure and a comic! I was hoping to get Obelix, but I got a Viking. Still neat.



Le Gaulois en vie long!

Mimi's Pumpkin Cookies

You all know how much I dislike baking. I dislike the powdery mess, the multiple dishes and bowls covered in the sticky mess, and most of all I dislike the measuring -- which I normally do not do any of in my cooking. I also dislike the subsequent weight gain. If I'm gonna gain weight, I'd typically like it to be from the consumption of deep fried cheeses. I get a lot more of a thrill from those items. That's just my bent.

But now, hello Diane, take a look at these cookies!



Aren't those beautiful cookies? Yeah, and you won't see me cranking out a product like that. And I didn't. Chris made these cookies. ALL BY HIMSELF.

If you haven't been reading very long, or if you don't know us personally, you may not be dropping your jaw to the appropriate level at this moment. I'm not trying to be condescending or rude to Chris. He's one fart smeller, and downright brilliant in a lot of areas. In one or two areas, he is actually Rain Man. But he's not so much with the cooking. So when he found a recipe in the Tribune for "Mimi's Pumpkin Cookies," I had my doubts. (UPDATE: scroll down for recipe). These cookies had FROSTING on them, for crying out loud. Oh, sure! And let's just turn the sofa into a rocket and fly our fat asses to the frigging moon while we're at it!



We had a bit of the "blind leading the blind" situation at first. It isn't that I refused to help, it was just that I wasn't much help. "Is pumpkin purée the same as pumpkin pie filling?" he asked when calling from the store. I had no idea. A call to his mom confirmed that the "pie filling" variety was probably seasoned, or had other things added. Ah. I should have thought of that, owing to my years of experience with canned puréed tomatoes, vs. "tomato sauce."

He came home and got to work, and there was only one further bump in the road. And it wasn't even his fault. The printed recipe had listed an egg, but didn't actually say when to add the egg. So once Chris realized this, he scooped up the dough he had already parceled out onto the cookie sheet and blended in the egg. Then he redistributed them. The only thing I added to the process was that I suggested adding a little ginger.



I'm not usually a fan of non-chocolate items, but these cookies were just about perfect. They were lightly spicy, crunchy and delicate. Chris was generous enough to bring over half of them to work, and he was more than a little insulted when they didn't vanish right away. "Don't they know how GOOD these COOKIES ARE??" he said when he got home.

Well, I do babe. And believe me, I won't forget it! In our house, the baker's crown is officially yours. "You complete me."

P.S. I should also mention that Chris took all the photos in this entry, too! My baby is all growns up and a food blogger...

UPDATE: I totally found it. I cannot believe I located this recipe, which I had clipped out but tucked into the pages of Saveur magazine, which I then took to my in-laws to make with the mac-and-cheese recipe in the magazine. Then promptly packed away and just UNpacked a year later. Anyway, here it is, out-of-print from the Chicago Tribune, and I hope they don't mind me reprinting it by popular demand! (And btw, Mimi is the name of someone's grandmother). My additions are in italics:

For cookies:
1 cup each: granulated sugar, vegetable shortening, pumpkin puree
1 egg
2 cups flour
1 tsp each: baking soda, baking powder, vanilla, cinnamon
1/2 tsp salt

For icing:
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
3 Tblesp. butter, milk
1/2 tsp. vanilla
1 cup confectioner's sugar

1. Heat the oven to 350 degrees. Sift (or whisk) the flour, baking soda, baking powder and salt together in a large bowl; stir in the vanilla and cinnamon. Set aside.

2. Beat sugar (and egg) and shortening with a mixer on medium speed until creamy; add the pumpkin puree. Beat until just mixed together; reduce mixer speed to low. Add 1/4 cup of the flour mixture, beating until combined. Repeat with remaining mixture, beating after each addition.

3. Drop by generous teaspoonfuls onto a cookie sheet. Bake until barely brown, about 15 to 20 minutes.

4. For icing, combine the brown sugar, butter, milk, and vanilla in a medium microwave-safe bowl. Heat on high (100% power) until brown sugar melts, about 1 and 1/2 minutes. Remove from microwave. Stir in confectioner's sugar until icing is smooth, adding a bit more milk if needed to desired consistency. Spoon icing over each cookie.

Resi's Bierstube

Happy Oktoberfest, if a bit late, to everyone! Chris and I love good beer, and we are lucky enough to have some friends that like the same types of dark brew that we do. Last year, we went to Resi's Bierstube on Irving Park Road. We didn't eat there, but we went after a meal to enjoy the beer garden and some drinks. I love the atmosphere of the place (kind of like your German grandparents rec-room, as I imagine it might be) inside and out, and if I lived in the neighborhood, I would hang out there until "everybody knew my name, and was always glad I came." We enjoyed some dark, ice-cold brews, and took some silly pictures.



I love that photo because I think Chris looks like a Berenstain Bear. Anyway. And then, there is Greg and I:



Yes, I made the face on purpose. No, I didn't expect the results to be quite that good.

At the Bottom, on Top Chef

One of my favorite shows over the last month has been Bravo's Top Chef. I've watched every season so far (this is season 3), and this one has been, in my humble opinion, the best so far. So naturally, when my friend Jeff told me that his studio would be filming the finale in Chicago, I freaked out just a little bit. My friend Ann (also Jeff's wife) said, "Why don't you let Gina come be a PA, or work craft services or something? Then she could see the taping of the show." I said yes, yes Jeff, yes I think that would be a really really splendid idea. He told me he would email me about it, and (because he's a great guy like that) he actually did. I said I worked Monday and Tuesday, but luckily it worked out that I could come work Sunday, Wednesday, and Thursday at craft services. And so I did.

At first, just being in a studio was pretty exciting for me. And then, just seeing "Top Chef" written on stuff was even more exciting.



Well before taping started, I was running up and down stairs, hauling crates and carts and boxes of stuff, getting dirty doing cleaning and dishes, setting up catered meals, and keeping service tables replenished all day, plus various stepping and fetching. It was pretty much some of the hardest work I've ever done, but I was thrilled to be there doing it. Right about the time they handed me a nametag that read, "Gina, Magical Elves/Top Chef," you could have knocked me over with a feather. There it was, MY NAME on the same tag as TOP CHEF. (And yes, it was magical. And I was an elf.)



On Wednesday, everything was really getting into gear and things were ramping up. Several meals and snack tables were coordinated at once -- there was a fancy VIP reception, meals to set up for the crew, meals for the Bravo crew, and meals for people filming at the studio who had nothing to do with the finale at all.

It was a lot of pressure to be helping with the FOOD on this particular show... I pictured Anthony Bourdain arriving, and telling me "This coffee tastes like hot water with a brown crayon dipped in it!!" I would have wet myself on the spot. Luckily, I was more like the "lowest of the low," and there were some real chefs behind Top Chef.





Several VIP areas were ready, including the rooftop.



I had my misgivings about working around showbiz types, but for the most part, everyone was pretty cool and funny. The resident staff was really spectacular. (But of course, they are all midwesterners.) They all had much more patience with special requests than I did, and did their jobs with a lot of aplomb and tact (the last bit being the part that I could not do full time).

Right about the time they set up for filming on Wednesday, I got my first celeb sighting: there she was, Padma Lakshmi herself. I nearly poured hot coffee all over myself peering around a set piece at her. She seemed like a lovely person, full of mirth and a friendly attitude every time I saw her. And I think she's even prettier in person. A girl who was with me said, "I thought she'd be taller." I thought she was one of the tallest women I'd ever seen. She was what I would call "willowy." Every time she walked around a corner, or past the kitchen, everyone would rush to the doorway and stare until she was out of sight.



At first, she did some rehearsing with stand-ins.



The next time I had a chance to look? There they were. All of the judges: Tom Colicchio, Gail Simmons, and Ted Allen. Woo! I got chills watching from the catwalk. Even the appropriate music was playing. (If you watch the show, you know what I mean. It precedes them saying, "Please pack your knives and go.")



I stood and waited for Ted Allen to look up at me, and he did. I waved, and he waved back. Here is a transcript of the conversation we had:

Me: Love you!
Ted: Thanks! What are you doing up there?
Me: We're spying on everyone. It's like a fishtank.
Ted: Are you hiding from your boss?
Me: You've got my number, Ted!

And I didn't pee in my pants. Not even a little bit.

Other run-ins to note: I stood and watched all the cheftestants coming in and speaking to one another, and I had a WHOLE ELEVATOR RIDE with Gail Simmons. The other PA and I just stood there looking at one another with shit-eating grins on our faces while she spoke with her assistant.

One thing more to note... I had heard rumors that Padma and Tom C. might be dating. Well, I won't remark on that, because honestly, I don't know anything about that. But you might want to take a look at how closely they sit to one another. Ve-e-ery long sofa. Ve-e-ery close together. (I'm just noticing.)



I expect they are just very good friends. Cough.

I can also report that when I came in Thursday morning, the cast had all partied like the proverbial rock stars. I won't say who was reported to have knocked the most cocktails back, but their names both start with a "T." And I'll let you guess who cleaned it all up. Her name starts with a "G."



But I must say, nothing ilicit, illegal, or even a single cigarette butt. So who can blame them? It was the finale, after all.

And for my finale, the wonderful lady that runs craft services let my giddy coworker and I run some special veggie and fruit trays up to the finalists, who looked very tired and in need of refreshment.



When we went up, only Hung and Casey were in the waiting area. Here is a transcript of our conversation (the other PA was too timid to say anything, I think):

Me: Hello, chefs!
H & C: (trying to muster friendliness) Hello...
Me: How are you?
H & C: (Hung again struggling through what I imagine is jet-lag.) Gooood...
Me: You sound great!!
H & C: (Both laugh.)
Me: Do you guys need anything else? Besides a pizza? (the contestants had called up to the kitchen asking if we had any pizza, which I thought was funny)
H & C: (Both laugh again.)
Me: Okay then. Hey, do you guys mind if I get a picture with you? You're the whole reason I'm here today.
H & C: Are we really??
Me: Yeah! I'm really a dental hygienist!
H & C: Well, SURE!!

They were SO nice, both of them. I was prepared to stand there awkwardly, but they both immediately threw their arms over my shoulders like we were old friends, leaving me only to wish that I hadn't gotten myself so sweaty running up and down the stairs.



I was grinning long afterwards. Later, I wished I had ordered them all a Lou Malnati's pizza, had it delivered and signed the card... But there just wasn't time. I can't believe how much manpower, money, food and time it takes just to do what I think turned out to be about four minutes of live air time. On Thursday, they filmed the reunion show, which airs this week. On both days, I worked the day shift and didn't stay until evening for the actual taping. I was too exhausted!

Thanks Jeff... It was a great experience, and totally worth it. (But I think I will most definitely keep my day job. I get to sit down more...)

Buffalo Grove Days, or, "Had Enough Crap Yet?"

In September, nothing wraps up a summer of eating battered and deep-fried nitrites on sticks quite like the last big party, when Chris and I walk over to the Buffalo Grove Days. In the past, we've had chocolate and marshmallow-covered popcorn, had too much crappy yellow beer that was intensely overpriced, and witnessed the phenomenon that is "Infinity." To date, however, nothing had quite offended my eyes and ears so much as this:



You read it right. It's called "You M8K It Super Slush Lab," a spelling that could only make me think of my friend Jenny, who has mentally collected the perverse misspellings used by Madison Avenue to sell non-food items to kids ever since I can remember (think words like Nyce, Stuf, Lite, Likkum Stix, and Chawklit). Her notes to me in junior high and high school were filled with artfully worked phrases like, "Heyyy, Shì Patì, hoo du yoo lyke two-day?" Originally, that's why I took the picture, just to show it to Jen. But then I stood and looked at it a bit longer.



The unit glows with every garish color in the day-glo rainbow, and plays freakish carnival music (you know the one, the "big top" organ tune, "dit dit dooty ditta dit da doo-tie...") to lure children; a kind of modern-day witch's candy house. Kids can spend as little as $3 on a cup and make their own Super Slush flavor combo. But how are you gonna fit all the flavors you want in a $3 cup, Junior? With a variety that includes Sour Apple, Extreme Watermelon, Power Kiwi Burst, Tubular FD & C Neon Green #8, and Radical Premature Type II Diabetes, you'd better get mom to open up her pocketbook for the $7 cup! And then get to the dentist now. No, like, NOW. Stick two straws and a plastic spoon in it, Fattie, and get back in the SUV!



I soon realized that this wasn't just an amusing phonetic misspelling. What I was in the presence of was absolutely everything that is evil about America, in one portable electric trailer. Nothing less. I was mesmerized by the flowing, frosty pumps of glowing sin, and Chris eventually had to drag me away.

Now, let's focus on what IS good in this country, try not to think any longer about what starving children overseas would think of this gross display, and move onto the food tent. Yay! I smell barbecue!



It takes awhile to decide what to eat in the food tent. Much like Cher noted in the movie Clueless, you have to do at least one full lap before you commit to a location. We finally decided that Chris would get the pulled pork BBQ sandwich from Brothers' BBQ, and I found a nice option in the chicken gyros from the Continental Restaurant tent. I also got an ear of steamed corn, I think from the Girl Scout tent.

The pulled pork was very good. The pork had no sauce, and then when your sandwich is made up, it is added over the top. After living in Nashville a short time, I now feel that this is the only real way to serve pulled pork, so I approved.



I didn't know that the Continental served chicken gyros, but now I might need to go there to get another one sometime. It wasn't grilled chicken breast, but that same sort of "meat roll" on a spit, just as the lamb gyro was. The tzatziki sauce was very thick, and I thought the whole thing was really tasty. It was a bit leaner than the lamb gyro probably would have been, but I'm okay with that.



Chris and I both crunched on the corn-on-the-cob, which had just come out of the steamer and was boiling hot. Additional butter was not available, but the corn was so sweet it really didn't need it. They did have chili seasoning and parmesan cheese, which I did make good use of. Delicious.

Being averse to sweetened drinks of any kind (artificial or not), I opted for a bottle of water. Chris decided to try a Lemon Shake-Up at Randy's stand, before the claustrophobia-inducing conditions of the tent finally got to me.



The drink came not in a cup, but in a large oil barrel. I did take a sip, and I thought it was very good for what it was, with lots of fresh lemon juice. The amount of sugar still made my teeth feel "furry," though, immediately. I just don't get the sugary drink thing anymore, I guess. But Chris liked it.

We strolled on home in the beautiful weather, with empty wallets and full stomachs. Ahhh, you know what? I love this country.