It's not uncommon that I'll come across little warnings in my recipes as to the insurmountable odds of finding exactly what they call for. My gumbo recipe has paragraphs about the impossibility of finding andouille sausage. The key lime pie recipe I need for tomorrow warns me that "The bad news is [key limes are] impossible to find fresh at your local supermarkets."
I remember the days when I used to hate Hyde Park, when I swore that it was awful and boring and there was no point to it. But, if there is a point to Hyde Park, part of it has to be that I can walk across the street to the grocery store and find fresh key limes and andouille sausage. Or squid, or out-of-season obscure fruits, or imported candies, or jerk catfish, or organic cage-free quinoa... without going to a Whole Foods. I can, in fact, accomplish all my shopping, without any gaping recipe holes, without even shopping in any chains that exist outside of Chicago (it used to be that I could do this without hitting any chains that existed outside of Hyde Park, but the Co-op died a few years ago due to its poor management, nonsensical pricing, and lack of a reliable credit card system. Also it rained inside the 55th street store, but that's a problem the Treasure Island hasn't fixed, either). And our produce store has the same supplier as Whole Foods but charges half as much (seriously, I have been in love with Hyde Park Produce since before it even crossed my mind that Hyde Park itself might have some redeeming value).
So, moral of the story: I have a bag of key limes and it turns out my grocery store also carries Hobnobs, so I'm sitting here with a cup of tea, eating biscuits and wondering how I'm going to juice a million tiny limes. And I love my neighborhood for its grocery stores. Is that even proper?
Alternate moral: Happy (Almost) Thanksgiving, everyone! ♥ (Even if you're not engaging in culinary exploits tomorrow.) ♥
Chicago and I still have some things to work out, though, especially in re: it raining on me every time I'm outside for more than three minutes.
I remember the days when I used to hate Hyde Park, when I swore that it was awful and boring and there was no point to it. But, if there is a point to Hyde Park, part of it has to be that I can walk across the street to the grocery store and find fresh key limes and andouille sausage. Or squid, or out-of-season obscure fruits, or imported candies, or jerk catfish, or organic cage-free quinoa... without going to a Whole Foods. I can, in fact, accomplish all my shopping, without any gaping recipe holes, without even shopping in any chains that exist outside of Chicago (it used to be that I could do this without hitting any chains that existed outside of Hyde Park, but the Co-op died a few years ago due to its poor management, nonsensical pricing, and lack of a reliable credit card system. Also it rained inside the 55th street store, but that's a problem the Treasure Island hasn't fixed, either). And our produce store has the same supplier as Whole Foods but charges half as much (seriously, I have been in love with Hyde Park Produce since before it even crossed my mind that Hyde Park itself might have some redeeming value).
So, moral of the story: I have a bag of key limes and it turns out my grocery store also carries Hobnobs, so I'm sitting here with a cup of tea, eating biscuits and wondering how I'm going to juice a million tiny limes. And I love my neighborhood for its grocery stores. Is that even proper?
Alternate moral: Happy (Almost) Thanksgiving, everyone! ♥ (Even if you're not engaging in culinary exploits tomorrow.) ♥
Chicago and I still have some things to work out, though, especially in re: it raining on me every time I'm outside for more than three minutes.
Tags: