Everyting is Better in the Windy City

Quick trip to the Chicago area to visit D-bro this weekend. We saw the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band in concert at the Rialto Theater in Joliet. I was impressed as hell at our seats (we were in about the 10th row) until I noticed that most of the theater was empty. I couldn't believe it. They were fantastic.

It was weird. The guys were old. The audience was old. No one had a bic lighter to hold up. In fact, no one stood up. No one danced. No one smoked doobage, although they made several pot-related jokes. Mostly at Willy Nelson's expense.

The music kicked ass. Hanna and Fadden were dressed EXACTLY as they did in the 70s, which I found kinda scary and Hanna and Carpenter dyed their hair and looked incredibly young. They could have stepped right off of one of their album covers. That description does not apply to John McEuen. I have no idea where he got that shirt. It was strangely hip, yet disturbingly strange.

But first, we listened to a guy playing a pipe organ. Possibly he was the warm-up band. But the music had the effect of reminding me of childhood trips to the roller rink.

I'm pretty sure he played Rocky Top. You ain't lived til you've heard Rocky Top on a pipe organ.

The Rialto is one of the most remarkable spaces you can imagine. These photos don't begin to do it justice.



I was reminded of the lyric opera in Chicago.

Saturday, we went to Ikea and the Bass Pro Shop. We were tired from all that fun, so Sunday we decided to watch with incredulous wonder at the rain rushing sideways into the house, putting on boots and emptying the clogged rain gutters, mopping the floors in the bathroom on the lower level, which flooded, setting up dualing sump pumps in the backyard to pump out the swimming pool that formed. Oh, and in between all this, I caught up on my reading materials. Yes, I read no less than six hunting and fishing magazines in the bathroom after an accidental ingestion of raw Feta cheese (whew! was THAT a long morning).

There was also Greek food, Breaking Bad, and Vienna sausages involved. You never know what is going to happen on one of my adventures. Unless, of course, I forget the Lactaid, in which case my adventures are pretty much predictable.

And I am ashamed to say that I forgot to pick up El Milagro Corn Tortilla shells today. I still can't believe it. I have shamed my ancestors.

Cooking for my adoring fans

If you are ever in Chicago, go to any grocery store and find these. This is not a suggestion, this is an order. For the low, low discount price of between 25 and 30 cents, you can get a little slice of heaven. These are El Milagro corn tortillas. They come in a paper packet. Sometimes they are still warm from the delivery truck. It doesn't get any fresher than that. Just pick up the package and take a deep breath. Breathe in that heavenly corn aroma. If you put them in your car, they fill up your car with that scent as well. If you walk out with less than 10 packages for the return trip home, you have incredible self control. El Milagro corn tortillas are--as they say--just one trick up D-master's sleeve.

I like cooking for Beckie. She raves on about my cooking. She brags to her husband about my cooking. Now maybe you'll say Beckie is such a fan because she's from Tennessee and I'm from Kentucky and we share similar tastes. And while it's good, Southern cooking tends to be pretty low-brow. Quite a bit of it is po' folk food. Soup beans, corn bread, and cheap cuts of meats. Seasoning depends heavily on pork fat, onions, ketchup, and salt. Now if I was going to cook Beckie a meal to remind her of home, I'd probably have cubed steak and onions, green beans cooked in a pool of bacon grease, cornbread baked in a cast iron skillet greased with more pork fat, real butter, and mashed potatoes. Wash it all down with a Coca-Cola.

And not that that isn't good eating, but I don't cook like that much anymore. My life is too sedentary. And anyway, it isn't the home cooking I do that Beckie likes the best. Beckie is a fan of the foods I picked up from friends and restaurants and when my interests led to experimenting in my own kitchen. One of the recipes I really like to make is a variation of one my ex taught me. He called them American tacos. Browned hamburger and onions, no sauce. A sweet tomato chili sauce laid down on fresh El Milagro corn tortillas, followed by meat, cheese, a mild or medium picante, lettuce, tomato, more onion, avocado, sour cream, and black olives. When I make them today, I skip the cheese, sour cream (for reasons obvious to those who know me), and black olives, and I make a taco sauce for the meat. What can I say? I'm a fan of cumin. I guess that makes them just regular tacos. I served them to Beckie and her son Payton once when they came over with cherries from her mama's tree and we spent an afternoon putting up some awesome cherry jam.

The Tennessee faction went wild over the tacos. They looked a bit like these.


While my favorite part is the El Milagro corn tortillas (BTW, this picture is just using Ortega shells not the heavenly El Milagro corn tortillas--there really is no comparison) , the thing Beckie liked so much was the fact that I put refried beans in the meat mixture. It's a trick I picked up in needing to freeze things for later use. I just dumped the leftover refried beans into the meat, stirred it up a bit and froze it for later use. Saves time, pans, and tastes great.

You never know when a little something is going to go over big with your guests. In any event, it's fun to cook for people who appreciate your effort. Beckie can eat at my house anytime. And I promise I won't skimp on the corn tortillas.


Oh, and if I'm really feeling sassy...much like I was today...you might just get this for dessert. h/t Pioneer Woman.