Ugh, I keep saying that I
don’t have anything left to say about this forsaken year. But at the very least
I need to brag about my sourdough and say fuck you to the government…
It’s pretty clear to me that our government doesn’t give a fuck about most things that I value – the arts, education, racial justice, equity, the planet – but I did not expect the non-response to the collapse of restaurants. Maybe they’re punishing blue cities and their hip eateries, but I live in a small town and our handful of family diners and blue-collar watering holes are suffering too. Restaurants don’t just feed us, they’re central to our public lives. But with a pandemic raging, we cannot lead public lives right now. The value of these spaces is not just the food they serve, but their central role in the culture of our communities – it’s past time for our government to BAIL OUT THE RESTAURANTS.
In the early days of
pandemic panic, once I had taken stock in my family’s relative safety and
security, my worries turned to the public businesses that are so central to my
community: galleries, restaurants, music venues, bars. I feared for my friends,
both the business owners and legions of workers employed by them. So many folx I
know gravitate toward the flexibility of the service industry to support their
creative practices. But the nature of this work has always been precarious and
now much of my community is facing exponential insecurity. Folx have had to
choose between their health and safety and making ends meet, if they even have a
job to return to.
It’s been tricky for me to find a way to personally support restaurants and it’s made me feel like an inadequate citizen and friend. We’ve hunkered down in a major way and maintain strict safety precautions – Jessica was pregnant for the first three months of the pandemic and we’ve had a vulnerable little one at home since. My own work has been dramatically scaled back, so I’m not commuting to the city much.
Tips n links combo from Honey 1 BBQ
I’ve made a point to hit up my tip top favorite spots every single trip I’ve made into Chicago. At each stop, it’s been a relief to be greeted by familiar faces, smiles contained by masks. And the second the take out hits, those favorite flavors, it’s just sheer joy. The two most soul-satisfying take out bites of 2020 were the unctuous, smoky nuggets of a tips and links combo from Honey 1 in Bronzeville and the wondrously juicy and crispy af “pica pollo” fried chicken from Morena’s Kitchen in Belmont-Craigin. Notably, both of these spots are Black-owned – you should support them and treat yourself to some of Chicago’s finest cuisine. Also shout outs to Johnnie’s Beef, JP Graziano’s, Aroy Thai, Katy’s Dumpling House, and Birrieria Zaragoza (< I know birria tacos trended hard this year, but them greezy quesabirria beef tacos a’int got nothing on the GOAT.)
So far it seems like my favorite spots are hanging on. My preferred establishments tend to be mom-and-pop joints that have lower overhead –cheaper rents and less employees than fine dining spots. And many of my faves already had established take out business and are less reliant on the dine-in experience of service, cocktails, etc. Bottom lines have been devastated across the board, but places that rely on indoor experiences seem pretty much fucked. One COVID-related closure that hit close to home was Danny’s Tavern on Dickens, where I DJed occasionally, danced my ass off at often, but also had the ambiance of a cozy living room and could be the perfect place for an intimate Sunday night drink over candle light. I asked Jessica out on our first date at Danny’s. A few other closures hit my community pretty hard including the community-focused Korean-Italian hot spot, Passeroto and the Humboldt Park new school bistro, Café Marie Jeanne. It’s been heartening to see the bravery of business owners *pivot* to meet the times with things like subscriptions, affordable comfort foods, and mutual aid projects. I’m particularly inspired by the Community Kitchen project from the Marz/Kimski/Maria’s team, tapping the community organizing roots of their nonprofit arm, Public Media Institute, to offer free meals to the hungry and employ out-of-work cooks.
Tawk Zalian, owner of Pa Lian Burmese Restaurant, taking my order
I’ve watched most of this happen scrolling social media from the comforts of my couch. Our eating-out budget has been slashed in half, and again, the guilt has weighed heavily. In the spring, I started a Patreon where I shared home cooking recipes, daily, to raise funds to support friends in the restaurant business. I raised a couple hundred bucks and decided to give it all to my favorite spot closest to home, Pa Lian Burmese Restaurant in Wheaton. Owner, Tawk Zalian had been struggling to attract new clientele before COVID and like so many others, he turned to GoFundMe to keep the lights on. There’s nothing like this food anywhere near us (they’re actually the only Burnese restaurant in Illinois) and now that we’re not leaving the neighborhood much, the bright flavors and textures from Pa Lian have been indispensably inspiring.
Otherwise, I cook (and cook and cook.) Mostly I’m not sick of it. In fact, after spending pretty much the entire day wrangling the kids, a focused task is a welcome respite for my mental well being. Especially if it means stepping out back with a beer to cook over fire. I put some tunes on and relish in the productivity.
The biggest shift in habits has actually been with the shopping. I’m only heading out once every two weeks, with a delivery or curbside pickup for beverages and odds and ends in between. I’m a pro shopping list maker, but two weeks requires actual menu planning to make sure each ingredient ends up in the right place. I do worry a bit that I could be tapping into some inherited OCD issues – is it weird I’ve saved every shopping list and menu since March?
At the onset of the pandemic I was extra ambitious in the kitchen, folding my own dumplings, deep frying, baking new-to-me stuff. But then baby came and I slid back into a relatively low key repertoire. The one thing that stuck was that thing all the basic b’s did in 2020, SOURDOUGH! It’s Jessica’s spirit carb. She gifted me the Tartine Bread book years ago, but I was always too intimidated by the labored, two week process to coax a starter out of thin air. Even with an active starter, the country bread recipe takes three days: feeding the starter/levain > resting > stretching and folding > more resting > scoring and baking. I stuck with it, though, and by month six I could finally make it from memory. I still couldn’t tell you what an autolyse is, but I was smart enough to tweak the recipe to cut back on discarded starter. I could probably adapt it to produce 0 discard, though I like to save up the ~tablespoon of leftover starter from each bake to make this incredible recipe for fancy Cheez-its from an old friend Peter Barrett. I haven’t actually branched out beyond Tartine’s country bread recipe, it’s that freaking good – really the best bread I’ve ever had.
Well, I’m tryna get out of here without taking up too much of your time, but some last shout outs – a few delicious new things I ate in the before times: okonomiyaki at Gaijin (closed for winter), tsukemen “dipping” ramen at Chicago Ramen (open for delivery & pick up in Des Plaines), and birria at Las Tias, West Chicago (RIP.)
Not only is it good to support local business, but some take out needs to hit the table ASAP, so big ups to my local-est places in Winfield for that piping hot, deep fried fix – Berger Bros. for burgers & fries and Chinese Ho for fried rice, egg foo young, and crab Rangoon.
And hugest gratitude to all
food workers: in the fields, the slaughter houses, plants, and packing houses;
driving the trucks; homies grinding on the line, servers braving the patios,
and the delivery drivers; and last but not least everybody stocking the shelves
& checking us out. Special thanks to the staff of Angelo Caputo’s on North
in Carol Stream where I shop every two weeks. You really are essential, you’ve
risked your own health to keep the rest of us fed.
Food 2020
Ugh, I keep saying that I don’t have anything left to say about this forsaken year. But at the very least I need to brag about my sourdough and say fuck you to the government…
It’s pretty clear to me that our government doesn’t give a fuck about most things that I value – the arts, education, racial justice, equity, the planet – but I did not expect the non-response to the collapse of restaurants. Maybe they’re punishing blue cities and their hip eateries, but I live in a small town and our handful of family diners and blue-collar watering holes are suffering too. Restaurants don’t just feed us, they’re central to our public lives. But with a pandemic raging, we cannot lead public lives right now. The value of these spaces is not just the food they serve, but their central role in the culture of our communities – it’s past time for our government to BAIL OUT THE RESTAURANTS.
In the early days of pandemic panic, once I had taken stock in my family’s relative safety and security, my worries turned to the public businesses that are so central to my community: galleries, restaurants, music venues, bars. I feared for my friends, both the business owners and legions of workers employed by them. So many folx I know gravitate toward the flexibility of the service industry to support their creative practices. But the nature of this work has always been precarious and now much of my community is facing exponential insecurity. Folx have had to choose between their health and safety and making ends meet, if they even have a job to return to.
It’s been tricky for me to find a way to personally support restaurants and it’s made me feel like an inadequate citizen and friend. We’ve hunkered down in a major way and maintain strict safety precautions – Jessica was pregnant for the first three months of the pandemic and we’ve had a vulnerable little one at home since. My own work has been dramatically scaled back, so I’m not commuting to the city much.
I’ve made a point to hit up my tip top favorite spots every single trip I’ve made into Chicago. At each stop, it’s been a relief to be greeted by familiar faces, smiles contained by masks. And the second the take out hits, those favorite flavors, it’s just sheer joy. The two most soul-satisfying take out bites of 2020 were the unctuous, smoky nuggets of a tips and links combo from Honey 1 in Bronzeville and the wondrously juicy and crispy af “pica pollo” fried chicken from Morena’s Kitchen in Belmont-Craigin. Notably, both of these spots are Black-owned – you should support them and treat yourself to some of Chicago’s finest cuisine. Also shout outs to Johnnie’s Beef, JP Graziano’s, Aroy Thai, Katy’s Dumpling House, and Birrieria Zaragoza (< I know birria tacos trended hard this year, but them greezy quesabirria beef tacos a’int got nothing on the GOAT.)
So far it seems like my favorite spots are hanging on. My preferred establishments tend to be mom-and-pop joints that have lower overhead –cheaper rents and less employees than fine dining spots. And many of my faves already had established take out business and are less reliant on the dine-in experience of service, cocktails, etc. Bottom lines have been devastated across the board, but places that rely on indoor experiences seem pretty much fucked. One COVID-related closure that hit close to home was Danny’s Tavern on Dickens, where I DJed occasionally, danced my ass off at often, but also had the ambiance of a cozy living room and could be the perfect place for an intimate Sunday night drink over candle light. I asked Jessica out on our first date at Danny’s. A few other closures hit my community pretty hard including the community-focused Korean-Italian hot spot, Passeroto and the Humboldt Park new school bistro, Café Marie Jeanne. It’s been heartening to see the bravery of business owners *pivot* to meet the times with things like subscriptions, affordable comfort foods, and mutual aid projects. I’m particularly inspired by the Community Kitchen project from the Marz/Kimski/Maria’s team, tapping the community organizing roots of their nonprofit arm, Public Media Institute, to offer free meals to the hungry and employ out-of-work cooks.
I’ve watched most of this happen scrolling social media from the comforts of my couch. Our eating-out budget has been slashed in half, and again, the guilt has weighed heavily. In the spring, I started a Patreon where I shared home cooking recipes, daily, to raise funds to support friends in the restaurant business. I raised a couple hundred bucks and decided to give it all to my favorite spot closest to home, Pa Lian Burmese Restaurant in Wheaton. Owner, Tawk Zalian had been struggling to attract new clientele before COVID and like so many others, he turned to GoFundMe to keep the lights on. There’s nothing like this food anywhere near us (they’re actually the only Burnese restaurant in Illinois) and now that we’re not leaving the neighborhood much, the bright flavors and textures from Pa Lian have been indispensably inspiring.
Otherwise, I cook (and cook and cook.) Mostly I’m not sick of it. In fact, after spending pretty much the entire day wrangling the kids, a focused task is a welcome respite for my mental well being. Especially if it means stepping out back with a beer to cook over fire. I put some tunes on and relish in the productivity.
The biggest shift in habits has actually been with the shopping. I’m only heading out once every two weeks, with a delivery or curbside pickup for beverages and odds and ends in between. I’m a pro shopping list maker, but two weeks requires actual menu planning to make sure each ingredient ends up in the right place. I do worry a bit that I could be tapping into some inherited OCD issues – is it weird I’ve saved every shopping list and menu since March?
At the onset of the pandemic I was extra ambitious in the kitchen, folding my own dumplings, deep frying, baking new-to-me stuff. But then baby came and I slid back into a relatively low key repertoire. The one thing that stuck was that thing all the basic b’s did in 2020, SOURDOUGH! It’s Jessica’s spirit carb. She gifted me the Tartine Bread book years ago, but I was always too intimidated by the labored, two week process to coax a starter out of thin air. Even with an active starter, the country bread recipe takes three days: feeding the starter/levain > resting > stretching and folding > more resting > scoring and baking. I stuck with it, though, and by month six I could finally make it from memory. I still couldn’t tell you what an autolyse is, but I was smart enough to tweak the recipe to cut back on discarded starter. I could probably adapt it to produce 0 discard, though I like to save up the ~tablespoon of leftover starter from each bake to make this incredible recipe for fancy Cheez-its from an old friend Peter Barrett. I haven’t actually branched out beyond Tartine’s country bread recipe, it’s that freaking good – really the best bread I’ve ever had.
Well, I’m tryna get out of here without taking up too much of your time, but some last shout outs – a few delicious new things I ate in the before times: okonomiyaki at Gaijin (closed for winter), tsukemen “dipping” ramen at Chicago Ramen (open for delivery & pick up in Des Plaines), and birria at Las Tias, West Chicago (RIP.)
Not only is it good to support local business, but some take out needs to hit the table ASAP, so big ups to my local-est places in Winfield for that piping hot, deep fried fix – Berger Bros. for burgers & fries and Chinese Ho for fried rice, egg foo young, and crab Rangoon.
And hugest gratitude to all food workers: in the fields, the slaughter houses, plants, and packing houses; driving the trucks; homies grinding on the line, servers braving the patios, and the delivery drivers; and last but not least everybody stocking the shelves & checking us out. Special thanks to the staff of Angelo Caputo’s on North in Carol Stream where I shop every two weeks. You really are essential, you’ve risked your own health to keep the rest of us fed.