It's the day after the vernal equinox—Spring official—so whatever snow happens from here on out I am going to call UNSEASONABLE. And any days greater or equal to 60°F I'm going to deem WAY BEYOND TOTALLY DESERVED.
Meanwhile, I have some photos of Blizzard 2011 to post since last I posted, and some other assorted Februaryness.
I love how Easy (tiny in the background) is loving the snow.
While Dan was shoveling the sidewalk I worked on another project.
Mary and I used to make igloo villages in the yard after a big snowfall. Katie also used to make us pull her around the yard on a sled after a big snowfall. Sister sled dogs. Some winter traditions I'm more eager to reclaim than others.
Nothing stops Chicago cyclists. Not even 20 inches!
"Michael McDonald" and CC.
New breakfast horizons: Steel-cut oats with almonds, cranberries, shredded coconut, a dash of cinnamon and cloves, crystallized ginger, and rice milk. I'm also into Greek yogurt with dried cranberries, sesame honey cashews (Trader Joe's), and a tiny bit of wildflower honey. The best!
New pizza horizons: Great Lakes Pizza Company. Not pictured: pizza. (The salads are excellent too, however.)
The Drawing Room.
Joanna & Jessica at The Girl & the Goat.
One of Mariah's amazingly irreverent V-Day cookies.
A more reverent V-Day dessert (not nearly as amazing).
V-Day flowers from DFK.
Hala Kahiki! aka Hala Kaheadache. Amanda kept accidentally ordering the sugariest drinks on the menu, while I was wishing my Scratch Me Lani cocktail came with an Ibuprofen chaser. (But the tiki decor remains as amazing as ever.)
Also last month: Super Bowl party; frock swamp; caught up on Mad Men; saw the great Vivian Maier exhibit at the Chicago Cultural Center and the Jim Nutt show at the MCA; finally made it to Blackbird (first time taking advantage of Chicago's Restaurant Week); FINALLY finally made it to Schwa, the most mysterious restaurant in the city. Verdict, all hyperbolic tendencies considered:
Best meal of my 29-year-old life! Worthy of offset italic type, even.
I wish I could describe it in more detail, but all I can do is reread this 2007 GQ article exploring the brilliance (and craziness) of the chef savant, Michael Carlson. That, and dream of going back again....