In the Name of Comfort and All Its Formats

This was supposed to be a post about plums and oatmeal. As you might have already guessed by that auspicious beginning, that's not an exact representation anymore. Now this is a post about comfort. About the ease of breath that happens when your molecules slow down.

Of course, food can do that to us...comfort food is a real thing. I'd be curious to know what does it for you but in my world it's banana bread in the oven, onions caramelizing on the stove, citrus being zested and cinnamon in anything. All four set me at immediate ease and I take my life in a little deeper with their cues.

I had a five star, five senses comfortable weekend. This is one of those posts that might be more for me to have a record of than it has much to offer anyone else but I needed to put it down just the same. From the weather to the company to the lack of company to the feasts, I don't know that it could have been improved upon.

Since I can't find a way to eloquently share the bones of it, I'm making myself an outline at the bottom of this post for the truly curious. The short of it is that it had a lot of my favorite people, many of whom I just don't see much of and in whose presence my molecules ease up. As one of those people who occasionally forgets to breathe, I am so very into this.

At the risk of getting spectacularly sappy, this guy is one of them. I took this at Salvage One this afternoon during our (straight up successful) treasure hunt through Grand's vintage corridor. I realized tonight that I hadn't said anything here in the official online outpost but Brother is an official resident of the Chicagoland area for the next two years and I am breathing in a different way just coming to terms with that.

It's not like we'll see that much of each other, we won't. I know that, I truly do. But I've been living a plane ride from my family for 10 years and while I miss them, it's just a fact to which I got accustomed. I typically see them three times per year. Four if I'm really lucky. And even with a lot of friends who live close enough to have Sunday dinner with their parents or take sisters for a birthday lunch, it just wasn't my reality.

And now one of my favorite people is here and I can feel a different sort of root take hold. If things get dark, or even just a little gray, I have family a 15 minute train away. Or forget gray, an extra ticket to the Nice Cream benefit at a local brewery. Or the same seatmate for a live NPR show who's been sitting next to you listening in the backseat for 25 years. That still seems so wholly remarkable.

So the weekend was a wonder. Filled with the friends who are family and the family who's a friend and enough quiet time to myself to be grateful for the whole shebang. It's a true comfort for someone who didn't realize she needed comforting. Sappy, overindulgent weekend post achieved. Sorry I'm not sorry. At least I saved you from a title trying to riff on the word aplomb, only about breakfast :)

Steel Cut Oatmeal with Fresh Plumbs

• 11/4 cup water
• 1/3 cup steel cut oats
• 2 Tablespoons bran meal
• 2 Tablespoons flax meal
• 1/2 teaspoon salt (I used the BLiS vanilla salt pictured above but only because it is the spice I am most likely to start dating at the moment)
• Pinch of cinnamon
• 1 Tablespoon of maple syrup (I used BLiS bourbon barrel aged maple syrup but only because it is the condiment I am most likely to start dating at the moment)
• 1 Tablespoon of half and half
• 4-5 small fresh plums cut in half and pitted

1. Boil your water.
2. Add oats, bran, flax and salt. Lower heat to a simmer and stir every couple minutes till desired consistency is reached. This is usually about 12-15 minutes for me.
3. Add your cinnamon then spoon oat mixture out into your favorite breakfast bowl du jour.
4. Sprinkle cinnamon over the top then drizzle maple syrup over the top.
5. Pile on those beautiful plums and trace the edge of the oatmeal with the half and half.
6. Take a deep breath with nose directly over the bowl and enjoy not being hungry until well into the lunching hour.

Weekend in Review

Friday: Portabella/Garlic Tempeh Burger take-out from Native Foods, ridiculously good new vegan place just up Milwaukee. Eaten with a glass of wine while watching Before Sunrise and Before Sunset which have now both made my top 25 movies. Celine's monologue from the car scene in Before Sunset just about killed me.

Saturday: Started with a sweatfest. So much so that it was physically difficult to ride a bike that day. Kind've a beautiful thing. From there, the annual scrub at Paradise which comes with velvety soft skin and the reminder to be brave. Then off to the Food Truck Social for ceviche and tan lines with ZP and Emili. Just enough to hold me for JB's alfresco birthday dinner at Due Lire with a whole host of fun folk. A few glasses of wine floated me to 5 Star to crash G's big date (by invitation, bien sur) and meet up with Suz. Who then scooted me in brave attire for two wheels to Rainbo where the night/morning finished up.

Sunday: Starts with the discovery of buttermilk on its last legs, leading to blueberry pancakes in great company. A little organization before heading to Floriole for a light lunch with Ellie followed by the movies. Picked up at the theater by Brother and off we went, trolling for a Mid Century Modern coffee table on a grad student budget. Post 27, Urban Remains, Salvage One...all the good stuff. We found exactly what we needed, fell in love with significantly more along the way and then headed north to Revolution Brewery and the Nice Cream Benefit. So many good things/people in one place. Brother dropped me off with my adoptive Chicago family for a glass of wine with the Dawsons & Co at Mana.

Marauding on Weekend Street

It was just one of those good weekends. Friday night started with a knitting lesson with some new friends for Karen's hilarious 30th birthday project (I'm a little obsessed with this idea). That came with wine and a lovely spaghetti squash dish for dinner courtesy of Leah. Then thanks to the power of Twitter and an open-minded partner in crime, I got to toast Katie for her birthday at Innjoy with Robin and TC, then finally made it to the Burlington for one of Jim and Michelle's DJ gigs.

Saturday afternoon was pretty much strong-armed by the dentist. That was probably the least fun piece of weekend but I had a Fresh Air podcast and Terri Gross really did help pass the time. Reward was a fun trip to Whole Foods. If my face hadn't been numb, I might have even had a glass of wine. That would have been absolutely tragic given the circumstances so I just shot wanton looks at everyone else's wine and tried to avoid smiling so I didn't frighten the children. This became a totally moot point because I arrived home to see a snow family had been built in our front yard by the much beloved neighbor kids. They'd made a snow incarnation of Honeycat (who adores them as much as I do). N,o I don't have a picture of either the snowcat or my crazy Two-Facesque expression when I found it. Face still numb, smiling like a crazy person. I love neighbors/neighborhoods.

Saturday night (once I had full use of my face back) was just a beautiful chunk of absurdity. A bunch of us met up at Big Star and even the wait was a joy thanks to some delicious margaritas and some "preview tacos" holding us over (that would be KP and I up top, photo credit to G's iPhone). Different people came to meet us throughout the night and by the end of our taco tenure, there was dancing. So much dancing that we decided to take our talents elsewhere and ended up at Rodan. More dancing. Til the music stopped. Were we done? Apparently not. Off to the Flat Iron. Pool and 90's hip hop and ohmyGOODNIGHT it is 5 in the morning. As in a half hour before my alarm goes off for the gym on weekdays. I could not tell you the last time that happened.

I slept for a lot of a beautiful day on Sunday and I wouldn't take it back. I opened the windows and the cat and I just languished in heavy covers, fresh air and sunshine. I called Gina from bed and we recapped the evening with cracked voices and laughter that hurts a little bit because it feels like your brain is part of a pinball machine. When I did get up it was done with jaunty step. A long walk around the neighborhood, a cake to bake and all the fixings.The weekend shop closed with a proper Sunday supper. Lo and Christina are two of my best friends from college and it was just the most delicious rewind to have them around the table. Dinner was inspired by Kona Bistro, our favorite restaurant in Oxford. Smashed Salmon Salad (which has even been documented here before) and "Winning of Hearts and Minds Cake" from Orangette. I wish I could have shown a clip of it to the three twenty year olds sitting in our dining room on West Collins. They're both wives now- one husband makes tremendous chocolate cookies, one sent his wife to my house with miniature artisan grilled cheese sandwiches. Which is to say, they are both winners in my book. Everyone with joy in their work and life in general. These are good things.

This is a strange type of post for this place- more of a journal entry and kind of a throwback to days of yore. I just don't want to forget it. Not the time untangling yarn and telling stories, not the cabs dotting the west side, not the solo adventures in food shopping, not the hiccups or the hijinks. I don't want to forget cool sheets and the sweetest cat or a house that feels like home and smells like cake.

Semiramis, Sister Act, City Love

This weekend has been spectacular but you won't find any of the usual suspects in its description. The weather was murky at best, spitting wet snow at worst (most of Saturday). There were no parties, no new corner bakeries or backstreet bistros discovered, no grand plans to be seen. I don't think I've put lipstick on since Friday and even then it was because fishing in my bag for chapstick wasn't catching anything.

Instead, I spent 90% of it alone or with my best friend/neighbor. We made a Brown Line run up to Kedzie on Friday night and it still blows my mind that it takes 1 train and less than $3 to get all the way up into Albany Park, one of the city's more concentrated Middle Eastern neighborhoods. You step off the train and there it is. The best damn Lebanese restaurant I have thought to want. Semiramis.

Last year about this time, there were some strange things afoot in my health department. After an especially long afternoon in an MRI tube, Molly picked me up and we went straight there and had an incredible go of both food and company. Friday, it'd been a wild week* for both of us and we wondered if our friends would be there again. They were and again it was wine, fattoush, kafta and fat fries coated with sumac and garlic mousse. Semiramis and places like it remind me why I love city life so much.

Saturday was a day mostly categorized by the snow. I did 5 miles at the gym because Sister Act was on and I wanted to keep going till "Oh Maria."



Molly and I took off to the Empty Bottle Farmer's Market** picking up a small lemon tart from Celestial Kitchens and a gorgeous fresh baguette from Cook Au Vin. The latter is opening a new location on Milwaukee in Logan Square this summer and I'm looking forward to warm walks up there for bread. Or perhaps a crepe (should you ever be in a position to talk me into going to get a crepe with you, know that the word itself will suffice). There was a Target run for a heart rate monitor (thanks again to Coach Gina) and a quick stop-in at Goddess and the Grocer for their lemon spinach artichoke dip and some Israeli couscous.

I watched the entire 5th season of Weeds (croquet, ftw) and we feasted on the picture at top for dinner: fresh baguette, salted butter, quince preserves, prosciutto, a wedge of Boucheron cheese, fruited Israeli couscous and some of that glorious green dip. We had wine and then I folded laundry. Today I'm taking my heart rate monitor for a spin after brunch at Dave and Lisa's. This weekend was not all that exciting on paper but in reality was filled to the brim with everything I needed.


*When I say wild week I mean so wild I think I actually mentally blocked my ATM pin number. It is the strangest thing. I have had the same one for 3 years and then POOF! It was gone from my head. It's hard for me to even admit this beyond wondering if this has ever happened to anyone else?!

**I will be avoiding travel at all costs on the third weekend of every month in order attend this market. Farmers market in a rock venue with killer bloody marys and excellent vendors. In my neighborhood. Only exception could be Portland next month but the Portland of my imagination is one big rock venue farmers market so I feel justified.