I love running on the lake more than anything in the world but this morning, I took a few minutes to stretch a few feet from the path…and found that view was pretty spectacular too.

This morning I sat on a bench in Lincoln Park with a friend, eating croissants and bananas, drinking coffee. We played with the not-so-little baby feet of her wildly growing boy, discussing very important and very unimportant things. There were fits of laughter and solemn nods when necessary too. Wandering around the Zoo with a purpose that was simultaneously non-existent and very present. It was an early morning catch-up that made me feel more ready to face the day than any cup of coffee I have had this week.

Catching up doesn’t always mean connection. But I want it to, otherwise I am not interested. I am not interested in manufacturing moments, experiences. And the older I get, the more profoundly grateful I am for being able to show up with the people I love, with nothing but everything to say and lay it all on the table. Or in this morning’s case, the park bench.

Monday morning and not a thing to wear…

#lunabellproblems

The goods procured at the Division St. Market yesterday were really something- seriously, how gorgeous is this tomato? Since my basil plant is on overdrive, there was really only one choice…

Homemade heirloom tomato sauce.

Years ago, there was great debate in my family about whose marinara sauce was the best, my grandmother’s or my great-Aunt Violet. As a child, I remember that saying I liked one was met with a hushed “Now, don’t be saying that in front of…”.

Gorgeous tomatoes, fragrant red onion, a ton of basil, green pepper, salt, pepper…you really can’t go wrong. Maybe that’s the point my grandma and aunt were missing- when you start with good stuff, there’s no right or wrong in what you do with it. In cooking or in life.

Both my Nana and Auntie Vi are no longer with us but I like to think that they would love that I make my sauce from scratch…regardless of what I do to get there.

The goods from this morning’s trip to the Division Street Market- gorgeous, right???

I don’t know what I will be making for dinner but between my new issue of Bon Appetit and several hours at the pool, I am positive I can come up with something to do with this colorful group.

Love, love, love summer in Chicago.

Don’t moms-to-be have enough to worry about without a fruit baby causing reoccurring nightmares?

And also, I get it- someone is having a baby. I didn’t need a representation in the form of fruit to get that point across. I also know where babies come from in case you were considering a fruit arrangement depicting that.

File this under “Things that horrify me” and “Why do people do crap like this?”.

I saw The Avengers and liked it.

The new Spiderman? Loved it.

So, I thought that maybe the next comic book blockbuster under my belt would be The Dark Knight Rises.

Then I read this in the Chicago Trib’s review:

Now comes “The Dark Knight Rises,” which makes “The Dark Knight” look like “Dora the Explorer” and is more of a 164-minute anxiety disorder than a movie.

Annnnddd I’m out.

You see, I watched “The Dark Knight” the night Ryan and I moved in together, over 2 years ago. I made it about 40 minutes in, then locked myself in our bedroom and couldn’t walk under Wacker Drive for about 6 weeks. Violence scares me but violence depicted in my city? Game over, Batman.

And I am sure that night Ryan was super glad he chose to move in with me…

For me, summer dinners mean one of two things: grilling or takeout. Chicago has been bringing the heat this summer and cooking actual food in my actual kitchen feels like it would take a lot of effort. Which sounds miserable. And hot.

However, this right here is a summer meal if I ever saw it. What a novel concept- leave food in its original form. Cut it up. Put it on a plate. Open a bottle of wine. Dinner- voila.

Cherries and cheese from Whole Foods (on sale, might I add), cured meat from L’Appetito, peach bruschetta, Rare Bird Pear-Pinot jelly, crackers and bread. So simple, took 10 minutes to “prepare” and Ryan and I were able to share a meal that didn’t come out of a box or at the expense of him sweating on our porch.

Peach Bruschetta

3 peaches
1 pint golden tomatoes (any tomatoes will work but I die for the heirloom variety this time of year)
Handful of basil
1/2 red onion
Salt and pepper to taste
Balsamic vinegar
Pinch of sugar

Cut everything up. Throw it in a bowl. Dash as much balsamic on everything until you feel happy. Eat with big slices of fresh, crusty bread. The end.

(image via Jonathan Adler on Wabash)

I cannot get enough of the Green City Market.

I love how crowded it is, the pervasive smell of basil, the rows and rows of brilliant, bright, fresh produce. Usually, it’s a solo trip but today I met up with a friend and I cannot think of a better morning- chatting about recipes, picking just the right heirloom tomatoes, grabbing a scone from Bennison’s and sitting in the grass catching up until it was time for lunch. I am so lucky to live in a city that has such amazing things pop up in it weekly but I am even luckier to have people I care about to experience it all with.

Saturday morning/friend/veggie love- there’s really nothing better than summer in the city.