I walked all over the Gold Coast today trying to find a free wi-fi spot so that I could find directions online to a Jewish deli which is rumored to be great. I almost found the deli before finding wi-fi. Only a few blocks farther north and I would have been there. Unfortunately, no deli for me today; my hunger got the best of me before I could make it to either, and I settled for a drenched beef with sweet peppers. The fries were disappointing. And who would have known that Starbucks had such a complicated system for getting internet access, involving cards with minimum limits and other more complicated things, like Green's theorem.
At least I got to take the Brown line north, for my first day of class at NEIU. I was planning on doing the Red line to the Berwyn and taking the bus west, but after I finally found an internet place that didn't charge an exorbitant fee, I discovered that the Brown line in fact terminates only a few blocks south of NEIU. So, I got to take that north, and then walk the rest of the way. The Brown line has got to be one of the coolest L lines in Chicago. It travels from the Loop to the northwest on elevated tracks which go behind apartment buildings, through Lincoln Park, to the west of Wrigley Field, and then veers due west and, after Western Ave, drops to street level and runs in the alley between two rows of houses. That drop really surprised me, as did the crossing gate arms which kept cars from dying beneath our massive train's wheels. It was weird to hear a dog barking when the doors opened at Francisco. This is one of my new recommendations for tourists: ride the Brown line to the Kimball terminus and then walk around a bit (but just a bit). You'll get to see the real side of Chicago, and one of the most unique public transit lines I've ever ridden - half subway, half streetcar.
When I finally got to NEIU, I walked straight to the science building, which it turns out is a slightly rundown lecture building from the late 1970s or so. I walked in and was immediately struck by a sense of deja-vu: the building reminded me of Nottingham University to an unnerving degree. Such a strange and unexpected feeling to get.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Chicago My Home
It's now less than a week before I return to Chicagoland for Christmas. A few finals, a train ride, and then I'll be in the heart of the city. I'll be cooking and, maybe, baking, and I'll be eating a lot. I'm not sure what my holiday will look like (I may end up spending a few days in Louisville, which would be an amazing, if tiring, trip), but I'll be sure to post on any interesting culinary experiences I have.
In other Chicago-related news, Obama named his HUD secretary today. As a long-time believer in the importance of cities as cultural and economic centers, and having watched in agony as the last two administrations pursued short-sighted and ultimately doomed policies, I hope that Mr. Donovan can take us in the new direction which we so desperately need to head. I am hopeful (imagine that!) given what Obama said:
"We cannot keep throwing money at the problem [of affordable housing], hoping for a different result. We need to approach the old challenge of affordable housing with new energy, new ideas, and a new, efficient style of leadership. We need to understand that the old ways of looking at our cities just won’t do. That means promoting cities as the backbone of regional growth by not only solving the problems in our cities, but seizing the opportunities in our growing suburbs, exurbs, and metropolitan areas."
Cities are the most economical way to house a large population: apartment blocks are energy efficient, as is the centralization of services and markets. The flight from urban centers by many in my parents' and grandparents' generations has taken a toll on the US that is becoming more and more apparent.
In other Chicago-related news, Obama named his HUD secretary today. As a long-time believer in the importance of cities as cultural and economic centers, and having watched in agony as the last two administrations pursued short-sighted and ultimately doomed policies, I hope that Mr. Donovan can take us in the new direction which we so desperately need to head. I am hopeful (imagine that!) given what Obama said:
"We cannot keep throwing money at the problem [of affordable housing], hoping for a different result. We need to approach the old challenge of affordable housing with new energy, new ideas, and a new, efficient style of leadership. We need to understand that the old ways of looking at our cities just won’t do. That means promoting cities as the backbone of regional growth by not only solving the problems in our cities, but seizing the opportunities in our growing suburbs, exurbs, and metropolitan areas."
Cities are the most economical way to house a large population: apartment blocks are energy efficient, as is the centralization of services and markets. The flight from urban centers by many in my parents' and grandparents' generations has taken a toll on the US that is becoming more and more apparent.
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Happy Day!
It may have nothing to do with food - beyond the celebration parties which should be held in the coming weeks - but Rod Blago has made a very public face-plant!
All of Illinois cheers!
All of Illinois cheers!
Monday, November 24, 2008
Vive la France!
Articles like this have become all too frequent. While reading this one, I was struck by the peculiarity of the subject matter, especially here in America.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Turkey-Day Palin
What am I thankful for this year?
I'm pretty gosh-darned thankful for this.
Especially at 2:26.
I'll let it speak for itself.
Update 22.Nov.2008: After rereading this post, I think I need to point out that it is not a political statement per se; I posted this link because of how it relates to the Sky Full of Bacon podcasts. (Although 2:26 is too sublime a moment not to point out.)
I'm pretty gosh-darned thankful for this.
Especially at 2:26.
I'll let it speak for itself.
Update 22.Nov.2008: After rereading this post, I think I need to point out that it is not a political statement per se; I posted this link because of how it relates to the Sky Full of Bacon podcasts. (Although 2:26 is too sublime a moment not to point out.)
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Sky Full of Bacon
I've been busy the last few months, partly dealing with the stresses of studying a subject I have no interest in, but mostly getting over the Cubs hang-over (something which is quickly becoming an annual October "occurrence").
I've discovered a small but thriving community of passionate food bloggers based in Chicago. The Local Beet is a site dedicated to everything about eating locally-grown food in Chicago, and one of the contributors there also runs a blog called Vital Information. There is also a site named Sky Full of Bacon. It's run by a guy who makes very well produced podcasts about food, usually with a focus on Chicago restaurants and the stories behind their chefs. It's really something special and I highly recommend checking it out.
The newest podcast at Sky Full is actually a two-part series. You can watch part 1 here:
Sky Full of Bacon 05: There Will Be Pork (pt. 1) from Michael Gebert on Vimeo.
The second part here:
Sky Full of Bacon 06: There Will Be Pork (pt. 2) from Michael Gebert on Vimeo.
The series follows three pigs from farm to abattoir to butchery to table at a dinner hosted at Blackbird (in Chicago). It's an incredibly wonderful statement of the care that can and should be taken (but often is no longer) in raising and slaughtering animals. I think the most important part of the video lies in the discussions with the farmers themselves about the importance of raising these heirloom breeds, the emotional connection they have to the animals, but the necessity they see in raising them to be eaten. As one of them points out, it's not the job of a farm to raise zoo animals.
When I first started reading widely and deeply about food, I was always struck by the obsessiveness so many of the writers I read placed on being a part of the slaughtering process. Videos like this podcast, as well as articles like this one just didn't make sense to me. I didn't think they were mistaken - respecting the animals we eat is something I was raised with. What struck me was how novel the idea seemed to them and how much garment-renting went on. Whenever numerous writers (Bourdain, Pollan, even Gordon Ramsey) wrote about their experiences, I felt left out of their reasoning and emotions when I usually followed it so closely. Their descriptions of the emotional trials they endured during the blood-letting always struck me in the same way as Troylus' whinging about his love of Criseyde.
At first I thought it was me; maybe a faulty ethics switch somewhere or too many years of indoctrination in the prepackaged meat culture. I found the same problem when I spoke to vegetarians in college; when they spoke of ethics, I just didn't get what they were talking about. With the food writers, the disconnect was on a more emotional level, but it came from the same place. Taking an animal's life struck everyone else as something barbaric and unknown, while I didn't feel that way at all.
I've thought about this a lot over the years, but it wasn't until this podcast that it struck me why I feel that way. During part 2, which is much harder and much more important to watch, chef Jason Hammel talks about how the experience of watching the slaughter wasn't what he thought it would be; there was no moment when life ended, rather life was ending during the whole day. His words caught my attention and stirred up memories that I'd all but forgotten about and I knew why I've failed to connect to much of the writing on this topic over the years: I've already gone through the ethical and emotional turmoil which is so new to these writers.
A little background explanation might be useful. I'm from a northern suburb of Chicago and I really identify with the urban side or the area. I'm also pretty liberal, so I've run in left-leaning circles since before college. I haven't fired a gun since I was a senior in high school, and I haven't gone hunting since I was 14. So, the years between then and now have made the memories of that period of my life hazy. But, as I'm sure you know if you're reading this, those last two sentences are not normal for an urban-dwelling liberal. And that's something I forgot; I come from a strange background for someone in the Whole Foods marketshare.
Hammel's words about the process reminded me of the first time I helped my dad with a deer. It was November in the northern Wisconsin woods, a brisk day, but the sun was still giving warmth. I remember the pile of guts, the split-open carcass, the blood-stained leaves. Blood pooled along the spine of the upturned deer, and the bluish glean of fresh meat is something that I have never forgotten. Dad and I carried the carcass by the hooves - me at the back - to the car and hoisted it up onto the roof. There was, as Hammel said, no clear cut moment of ending, no moment at which you could say that the disturbing part had happened and on either side it was merely a deer and then meat. The whole day was infused with a sense of malaise, but there was also an excitement to it. And you'd be a fool if you thought any part of that deer was wasted.
It's important to know that killing is disturbing, very much so. But it's an important process. Eating a vegetable will never give you the same sense of thankfulness as eating an animal you've seen butchered. Meat deserves its revered place at the center of the meal because life was given to place it there.
I know where meat comes from. I've known for a long time and that knowledge, without my even realizing, has influenced my opinion on the meat industry and meat-eating. Gebert's podcast clued me in to that, which is a testament to how good a piece of journalistic art it is.
I've discovered a small but thriving community of passionate food bloggers based in Chicago. The Local Beet is a site dedicated to everything about eating locally-grown food in Chicago, and one of the contributors there also runs a blog called Vital Information. There is also a site named Sky Full of Bacon. It's run by a guy who makes very well produced podcasts about food, usually with a focus on Chicago restaurants and the stories behind their chefs. It's really something special and I highly recommend checking it out.
The newest podcast at Sky Full is actually a two-part series. You can watch part 1 here:
Sky Full of Bacon 05: There Will Be Pork (pt. 1) from Michael Gebert on Vimeo.
The second part here:
Sky Full of Bacon 06: There Will Be Pork (pt. 2) from Michael Gebert on Vimeo.
The series follows three pigs from farm to abattoir to butchery to table at a dinner hosted at Blackbird (in Chicago). It's an incredibly wonderful statement of the care that can and should be taken (but often is no longer) in raising and slaughtering animals. I think the most important part of the video lies in the discussions with the farmers themselves about the importance of raising these heirloom breeds, the emotional connection they have to the animals, but the necessity they see in raising them to be eaten. As one of them points out, it's not the job of a farm to raise zoo animals.
When I first started reading widely and deeply about food, I was always struck by the obsessiveness so many of the writers I read placed on being a part of the slaughtering process. Videos like this podcast, as well as articles like this one just didn't make sense to me. I didn't think they were mistaken - respecting the animals we eat is something I was raised with. What struck me was how novel the idea seemed to them and how much garment-renting went on. Whenever numerous writers (Bourdain, Pollan, even Gordon Ramsey) wrote about their experiences, I felt left out of their reasoning and emotions when I usually followed it so closely. Their descriptions of the emotional trials they endured during the blood-letting always struck me in the same way as Troylus' whinging about his love of Criseyde.
At first I thought it was me; maybe a faulty ethics switch somewhere or too many years of indoctrination in the prepackaged meat culture. I found the same problem when I spoke to vegetarians in college; when they spoke of ethics, I just didn't get what they were talking about. With the food writers, the disconnect was on a more emotional level, but it came from the same place. Taking an animal's life struck everyone else as something barbaric and unknown, while I didn't feel that way at all.
I've thought about this a lot over the years, but it wasn't until this podcast that it struck me why I feel that way. During part 2, which is much harder and much more important to watch, chef Jason Hammel talks about how the experience of watching the slaughter wasn't what he thought it would be; there was no moment when life ended, rather life was ending during the whole day. His words caught my attention and stirred up memories that I'd all but forgotten about and I knew why I've failed to connect to much of the writing on this topic over the years: I've already gone through the ethical and emotional turmoil which is so new to these writers.
A little background explanation might be useful. I'm from a northern suburb of Chicago and I really identify with the urban side or the area. I'm also pretty liberal, so I've run in left-leaning circles since before college. I haven't fired a gun since I was a senior in high school, and I haven't gone hunting since I was 14. So, the years between then and now have made the memories of that period of my life hazy. But, as I'm sure you know if you're reading this, those last two sentences are not normal for an urban-dwelling liberal. And that's something I forgot; I come from a strange background for someone in the Whole Foods marketshare.
Hammel's words about the process reminded me of the first time I helped my dad with a deer. It was November in the northern Wisconsin woods, a brisk day, but the sun was still giving warmth. I remember the pile of guts, the split-open carcass, the blood-stained leaves. Blood pooled along the spine of the upturned deer, and the bluish glean of fresh meat is something that I have never forgotten. Dad and I carried the carcass by the hooves - me at the back - to the car and hoisted it up onto the roof. There was, as Hammel said, no clear cut moment of ending, no moment at which you could say that the disturbing part had happened and on either side it was merely a deer and then meat. The whole day was infused with a sense of malaise, but there was also an excitement to it. And you'd be a fool if you thought any part of that deer was wasted.
It's important to know that killing is disturbing, very much so. But it's an important process. Eating a vegetable will never give you the same sense of thankfulness as eating an animal you've seen butchered. Meat deserves its revered place at the center of the meal because life was given to place it there.
I know where meat comes from. I've known for a long time and that knowledge, without my even realizing, has influenced my opinion on the meat industry and meat-eating. Gebert's podcast clued me in to that, which is a testament to how good a piece of journalistic art it is.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)