It’s still a long haul to get here in one day from Chicago, some 600 miles, about 10 hours factoring in a few irritating construction tie-ups on I-80. We had smooth sailing through most of Indiana and Ohio but then a 25 minute delay as the traffic piled up with a lane closure due to construction.
Pennsylvania’s wooded hills and wide river valleys are beautiful but driving up and down the Appalachian mountains, on the highway, sharing the road with big trucks, is a little hairy. Fortunately it wasn’t raining as as in the past and we only drove about a half hour in the dark.
The west end ale house kitchen in downtown Bloomsburg closes at 10 and we pulled in at 9:35. They couldn’t have been nicer, as was the case last year, and the cheeseburger was good. We met four nice young townies sitting outside next to us, thx to Millie dog talk, and they told us a bit about Bloomsburg University, which has 18,000 students and a party school rep, that has gone down a bit in recent years. (They seemed sad about that.) They were alumni in their later 20s. One was a stone mason, another a teacher with job corps. we drove around the campus which is high on a hill at the end of Main Street and has some pretty old buildings. (Fun fact: the gruff coach for the bad boy 1990s Detroit pistons is an alum. We passed Chuck Daley way on campus… the tip-off!)
Fog and Flame
We stayed at the Quality Inn which was hard to find – at the edge of a nondescript mall. A big bowl of dog biscuits awaited at the front desk and the place already seemed a step up from the Red Roof that we stayed at last year. The place was full of young baseball players (Williamsport, the little league World Series location is nearby). But our room was quiet. Coffee at fog and flame, the local coffeehouse was ok. Cute decor. Pastries lacking.
99 degrees is highly unusual for Vermont but this is our lot yesterday and today. We drive south on scenes two-lane route 116 to the small town of Bristol where we had lunch at minifactory, a cool contemporary space: excellent food, very slow service. It took 45 minutes to get our food. I had a very basic entree- delicious flaky griddle buttermilk biscuit with homemade cream cheese and homemade rhubarb cherry jam. The restaurant’s odd name comes from its honey-based Jam-making minifactory. Noah and dirck had more complicated sandwiches but still… the place wasn’t that packed.
Microfactory
There were a few shops to wander in (vermont honeylights) and a pretty village green – less pristine than real and functional. We drove through nearby Middlebury college. In Bristol we also drove around the Tillerman, a 1797 farmhouse that is now an inn, restaurant and concert performance space. Looks great. It was closed on a Monday.
Honey Road
Our search for a place to swim in the river proved frustrating. I wasn’t willing to risk the huge slippery boulders leading to the enticing falls and flats. We watched teenage kids do crazy high drives from big rocks (and later learned a kid was killed in this area a day earlier.) We also got a $15 ticket for parking along the rural road, behind many other parked cars that also got tickets. Finally we ended up where we should Have begun- the perfect river entry spot in Waitsfield– shallow entry, sand not rocks or slippery boulders!
Dinner was inventive Mediterranean food at James Beard-nominated Honey Road. Very good. Reasonably priced.
On our last day we braved Shelburne Farms, a historic farm south of Burlington with surprisingly grand buildings that barely resembled barns – lots of heavy brick, wood, and copper. After a half hour of heat, we got back on the bus for the drive across fields with hay being harvested to the parking area. Next time I’d like to get to the Shelburne museum and house with an inn and gardens. The photos I took are crazy, like something out of a Gothic movie.
Although we were warned on Monday that our flight home on Tuesday was imperiled by possible thunderstorms in Chicago and advised to rebook, we found no great option so took our chances. The plane left on time but was stuck on the runway for maybe 20 minutes due to a thunderstorm…in Burlington. Then we were off, and arrived in Chicago on time. Noah also made it back to DC (a day late, after his flight was cancelled for no obvious reason.)
I never feel like I’m in Vermont unless I visit a tiny small town so I took a brief break from helping my cousin build a yurt on his land outside Waterbury to visit two tiny and lovely small towns.
Warren general store
Warren has a handful of pristine white 19th century classic Vermont buildings – church with a steeple, general store with worn floors and pricey goods, from vermonty things (maple syrup ) to imported French ceramic chickens, and the lovely Pitcher Inn (which locals report has a very good restaurant). The general store also has baked goods, fried chicken, sandwiches (soup of day: vichyssoise.) Its also home to Warren Falls, one of Vermont’s favorite swimming holes. A small waterfall with water cascading down boulders runs behind the inn and general store.
The Pitcher Inn, Warren
A little further north on route 100 is Waitsfield, which has a good artisans gallery, a covered bridge and a popular river swimming and tubing spot. A flatbread place serves good pizza. This is the Mad River valley near sugar bush ski area. Very lush green fields, winding roads, gentle mountains.
Waitsfield river swimming
We came here to help my cousin build a yurt on his land in Duxbury, in the woods high above a refreshing pond. It’s hard and unfamiliar work, lugging wood planks, sawing, drilling, hammering, but fun to be working along side other family and friends. I’ve learned how to use an electric drill to insert screws and how to plane wood boards (smoothing down the sharp edges.) and how to team up to pull a tarp over the rising yurt during a sudden downpour.
I emerge from the woods with a damp saw-dust-flecked t-shirt. There’s been 10-20 of us, from vermont, Montreal, Connecticut, DC, Chicago; kids playing in the woods and pond;, dogs demanding to be thrown sticks; communal meals where we rest, eat surprisingly well, gaze out at the green field, pond, woods, sometimes threatening clouds, and get to know each other.
Autumn First turned out to be the perfect spot to meet my sister and her husband for an early lunch before they drove north to Montreal (only 2 hours away.) I gather it may be cheaper to fly and drive from Burlington than to fly to Montreal; I also gather crossing the border in this age of hostility toward Im/migrants isn’t a hassle..at least for people not of color.
Autumn First
A bakery, cafe, and coffee shop with a casual, warm, independent, alternative and earthy vibe Autumn First offered vegetable-forward breakfast and lunch ( avocado toast, mushroom toast with ricotta and a fried egg..a little too sweet flavored), grain bowls either protein options, blts and turkey sandwiches. And blueberry muffins,, koughin-ammans, baguettes. Excellent maple lemonade too. And located downtown but not on the pedestrian corridor.
In downtown Burlington, which is beset by road construction, we found some excellent vermont maker shops around the ChurchStreet Market place: common deer for maple syrup to posters and jewelry; froghollow for pottery, watercolors, glasswork by Vermont artists, Belleville bakery for excellent croissants, and soft cookies (peanut butter, ginger without the snap).
Burlington facade
We met Burlington friends at Henry’s diner, celebrating its 100th bday and I can see why. Cool old train car atmospheric, classic breakfast fare, good quick service.
We picked up fresh out of the wood-fired oven, Montreal style bagels at Myer‘s. Good chewy consistency but surprisingly flavorless. Maybe a little salt in the batter would help?
I don’t think I’ve ever flown into vermont before today. We always arrived after long car rides from Michigan (when I was a kid. My mother loved this state). Two years ago we drove to Burlington from Ithaca (after driving from Chicago to Ithaca).
Morning in Vermont
The Vermont airport was pleasantly small and we had our quickest rental car procurement ever. Five people behind the Avis counter. no line.
Zero gravity dining
We drove our goofy white Kia soul (a box on wheels) to zero Gravity, a brewpub downtown to meet my cousin and his friend for a late lunch. Excellent fried chicken sandwich, “dirty fries“ (w/ bits of pork), Caesar salad and a grapefruit cider (from vermont). With rain in the forecast, I needed a coat and found one for $19.99 at sierra outfitters, a discount store next to tjmaxx with remarkably cheap outdoor wear.
Dirck and Ben and Jerry
Dinner tonight was at Ben & Jerry’s – yes, ice cream for dinner! When in vermont…the ice cream shop is downtown on the pedestrian corridor (aka Churchstreet). I’ve only eaten this ice cream from small store-bought tubs. It was fun to go into a shop with big tubs of 15 or so flavors (chocolate therapy is one fav.) and exceedingly friendly young scoopers offering samples.
We walked along the Burlington greenway, a paved two lane trail through woods hugging shimmering lake Champlain, with the Adirondacks in the distance. Bikes zipped past us on what I assume was a former rail line. The trail goes right past my cousins condo, which has a sweeping view of green lawn and grass and sun breaking through the clouds onto the lake. Tonight we had drinks with old friends from our Des Moines Register days (30 years ago), sitting on the lovely front porch of their stately 1917 house on Union street.
Two years ago, not long after we moved to Chicago, my brother and I visited Intuit in a blinding rainstorm that made it hard to see where we were. The art museum was charmingly scruffy, in a 19th-century brick building with worn wooden floors and battered walls that seemed well-suited for the museum’s collection of quirky and eclectic artwork by “self-taught” (and intuitive) artists. Soon after our visit the museum closed for renovation and expansion. It just reopened and I’m pleased to report that it’s even better – retaining its essential scruffiness but bigger and brighter, with white panels covering much of the still-worn walls and the original worn wood floor gently restored (or so it seemed.)
All the better to showcase its often eccentric artwork found in the permanent collection pieces and a special exhibit “Catalyst: Im/migration and Self-Taught Art in Chicago” featuring a diverse selection of artwork by 22 immigrant and migrant self-taught artists who came to Chicago from all over the world (Poland, Ukraine, Honduras, Mexico…). It’s fantastic and timely, given the unwarranted and obnoxious demonization of im/migrants by our current unbearable president. Among my favorites — elegant art deco-ish decorative objects made from unlikely prosaic material — a dental equipment company’s discarded metal. The artist, Stanley Szwarc, who immigrated to the US from Poland in 1977, worked at the company.
The museum’s permanent collection also includes the work of self-taught Chicago artist Henry Darger, (1892-1973) who lived near us in Lincoln Park in a one-room third-floor apartment and produced often cartoon-like work. Orphaned as a young boy, he landed in the awful-named Asylum for Feeble-Minded Children in Lincoln, Illinois. In Chicago, he worked by day as a hospital janitor, by night for forty years as an artist and writer, producing a massive illustrated novel set in an imaginary world with lots of clouds, storms, fire and seven heroines – the Vivian Girls – who led armies to defeat child-enslaving foes. He often traced figures from newspapers, magazines and kids coloring books, painting and collaging. Fortunately his landlords discovered and preserved his work, and his living room/studio contents (Pepto Bismol bottles, stacks of magazines, many shoes). The museum offers a reimaging of Darger’s studio with some of his original furniture and art materials.
Henry Darger’s work and reimagined digs
We met the museum’s enthusiastic president/ceo who showed us a bright new classroom space in the rear of the building where outreach programs are provided to teachers and students. The museum’s gift shop has also been spiffed up, but has the same interesting offerings. I’m a longtime fan of this art by ordinary (sometimes psychologically challenged) people, not academy/trained artists, variously (and awkwardly) known as outsider, naive, primitive, folk, or self-taught. Also don’t miss a visit to the bathrooms, yes, bathrooms – donated by Kohler (the bathroom fixture company) with fantastic arty light fixtures.
Looking out the windows of Intuit in Chicago, we could not miss a massive metal building across Milwaukee Avenue called Gangnam Market, which turned out to also be well worth a visit – part Korean food hall/arcade — Korean drinks here, Korean tacos there – and part upscale market. I also enjoyed browsing through the Asian candy, snacks and trinkets – exotic flavored Hi-Chews, KitKats (matcha tea, like we saw in Japan), chips (flavors: oyster, crawfish, cumin lamb skewer) Hello Kitty merch – and takeout Asian fare (seaweed, sushi, oniguri etc.) We’ll be back to try the Korean tacos, at a minimum.
Dinner was at Opart Thai House on Chicago Avenue — which lived up to its reputation. It’s a nothing-fancy interior with well-executed classics (pad thai, green curry with very fresh shrimp) and originals (to us) like a “peanut lovers” dish with chicken and vegetables coated in a thick peanutbutter-ish sauce. (It’s also BYOB, we learned.)
One of my earliest introductions to “outsider” was during the late 1980s in the amazing outsider art enclave of Lucas, Kansas – home to “The Garden of Eden” — a bizarre concrete log cabin with a yard full of giant sculptures with biblical and populist themes (Adam and Eve and the serpent; the farmer being crucified by the banker, lawyer, etc.). From this came a museum of outsider art that became affiliated with the Smithsonian and a public restroom/public art project resembling a giant toilet with intricate mosaics. All in a tiny windswept town in the middle of nowhere. In another Kansas small town, near Kansas City, I met another remarkable self-taught artists known as Grandma Layton, who started drawing in her older age when wishes had mental health issues and produced searing portraits of herself and husband. She gave me a signed poster of one of her paintings that I treasure, especially since her work was not sold, at least back in the 1980s. Baltimore also has a terrific outsider art museum that I visited, sneaking away from a work meeting to make sure I didn’t miss it!
I admit to having a somewhat irrational fear of government bureaucracy, especially now, during Trump 2.0, when people have been detained during seemingly routine bureaucratic visits and whisked away without due process. Granted I am a white, older, American-born, middle class woman so much less of a target in Trump’s America than an immigrant and/or person of color. I’ve also been wary of bureaucratic ineptitude, a perception stoked sadly by the Trump administration’s distain for government AND its decimation of government, with mass firings of federal workers.
So I was surprised that getting Global Entry – which will allow me to bypass long lines when re-entering the country after an international flight – was a piece of cake. Not that this is necessarily typical. I got lucky. My husband applied at the same time that I did and is still awaiting word that he’s jumped through the first hoop (“conditional approval.”) In my case, conditional approval arrived via email a day after I applied. I’m told this is the luck of the draw. Sometimes three members of a family will get conditional approval swiftly while a fourth member has to wait awhile.
Even the next step went well for me: a face-to-face appointment with immigration folks, either in downtown Chicago or at O’Hare. I picked O’Hare and today I made it to the airport and back in two hours, with a bonus: a surprise email received on the Blue Line train notifying me that my Global Entry was approved! It helped that everything went unexpectedly well with transportation – no horrific traffic jams on the drive to the Western stop of the Blue Line at 8:30 a.m.; the O’Hare El train came just as I arrived and took about 35 minutes; the 25 minute trek to the Global Entry office, a drab office tucked behind a baggage carousel (#12) in faraway Terminal 5 (international flights) was easy. I arrived 35 minutes before my 10:20 appointment and hunkered down in the sterile waiting room, but was called within five minutes.
Although I’d been warned that the immigration interviewer would be taciturn, mine couldn’t have been more pleasant. (Apparently my early arrival worked well for him.) He verified some application information and corrected one error that listed Chicago as my birthplace. (It’s Detroit). I piped up that I forgot to list one country (among others) that I visited during the past 5 years on my application. No problemo. He asked if I had a criminal record or immigration violations and then took my fingerprints (using a scanner to get images of my thumb and four fingers of each hand…my first experience fingerprinting). Then he patiently answered my questions (several about why my husband’s application process wasn’t as swift). And away I went after about 10 minutes. He told me I should hear back later today or on Sunday – after my fingerprints were screened by the FBI (or some such).
The Global Entry is good for five years and also includes TSA Precheck, so I can avoid the longer lines at security when arriving for a flight. I’ve rarely found the lines that awful but friends urged me to get global entry since we travel internationally a lot. But I probably won’t use mine until my husband’s goes through so hoping that happens soon! And now, if only, there was a way to avoid the sometimes long lines at customs/immigration when arriving at Heathrow and other international airports.
Here’s the official spiel: Global Entry is a U.S. Customs and Border Protection (CBP) Trusted Traveler Program that allows expedited clearance for pre-approved, low-risk travelers upon arrival in the United States. The application fee is $120, and membership lasts for five years. All applicants must undergo a background check.
If you’re going to spend $23 on a cheeseburger, it better be an exceptional cheeseburger – and indeed it was at John’s Food and Wine, a small upscale lunch and dinner spot with a cocktail bar on Halstead in Lincoln Park. We split the burger for lunch (served Friday-Sunday) – plus an order of beef fat fries with aioli and a delicious “Little Gem” salad with little gem lettuce (somewhere between butterhead and romaine), charred ramps, ample white shavings of ricotta salata (the dry version of ricotta) and a creamy greenish buttermilk dressing (think refined Green Goddess).
What made that burger so good? It was perfectly charred on the outside – which explained why John’s open kitchen was sending out smoke, although it never got too smokey (the burger is popular); the meat was house-ground fresh and a perfect medium rare; topped with melted clothbound cheddar cheese and aioli; the bun was a homemade yellowy, slightly sweet milk bun, perfectly toasted. My iced expresso was just right, not too heavy or too sweet. We’ll be back!
Springtime
Slightly closer to home is our neighborhood Middle Eastern/Mediterranean restaurant, Cedar Palace, on Armitage, that we forget to go to. I longed for a good Middle Eastern restaurant in Des Moines – and now there’s one two blocks away. First, the hummus is not too tangy or gritty, just the right creamy consistency and amount of garlic and lemon. Everything else I’ve tried is good including the chicken kafta dinner (which we shared; $22.99 including good yellow lentil soup). The back patio is lovely when the weather permits (and oddly, located next to one of Chicago’s most expensive mansions on Orchard Street) and in the winter the small dining room is cozy and welcoming.
I’m still trying to figure out the geography of Chicago’s West Town, which according to Choosechicago.com/neighborhoods, appears to be a catch-all for several neighborhoods, including Ukrainian Village, Wicker Park, Noble Square, East Village and River West but on another map I have (above) West Town is its own area, south of Ukrainian Village.
That said, we went to an excellent cheese and wine shop for lunch in the Ukrainian Village part of West Town, on Chicago Avenue, recommended to us by a suburban Detroit cheesemonger. All Together Now (think Beatles lyric to try to remember) is a cheerful place with a cool counter and a few tables. Their chicken liver mouse, served in a small jar topped with a layer of congealed oil/fat, was delicious, served with crispy baguette slices, a sweet jam, a country-style Poupon mustard, and tiny pickles (cornichons). The mouse sells for $8 in the shop. The smashed potatoes came with two sauces – one creamy white, another tangy red. And a simple sandwich with excellent ingredients – fresh baguette, Pleasant Ridge cheese (from Wisconsin), salami, and that Poupon-y mustard, was delicious. (We also visited the nearby shop Komodo, which has a cool selection of gifts – jewelry, cards, incense, plants etc.) Other recommended cheese and specialty food shops to visit in Logan Square – The Rind and Lardon.
Since moving to Chicago, we’ve been searching for a conveniently located Italian import store that matches one we love in Des Moines (Graziano’s). Bari Foods on West Grand Street,fits the bill, with a deli counter offering fresh ricotta and mozzarella, homemade sausage, and cold cuts including prosciutto and genoa salami. Next door, we stood in line to buy bread at the Italian bakery and sub shop D’Amato (most people were buying sandwiches and thick slabs of pizza-like focaccia – or focaccia-like pizza.) These shops are not in Chicago’s Little Italy, which is a little further south. (Last month, we tried the huge Italian supermarket Angelo Caputo’s in the western suburb of Elmwood Park, which also has a great deli counter but is less convenient for us city dwellers. Next time I’m in that neck of the woods, I’d like to try Capri Italian Food, 7325 W. North Ave. in River Forest, which is less supermarket.)
The famous Publican Breads is just west of the Italian shops on Grand but, sadly, was closed by 3 p.m. (we arrived at 3:05 p.m.) Also closed by 3 p.m. but worth a future visit – a curiously named coffee and home goods store, The Center of Order and Experimentation at 1727 W. Grand Ave that is also home to Martha Mae (the uber-curated art supplies and “beautiful things” shop formerly of Andersonville).
When we moved to Chicago three years ago, I decided not to post about every wonderful (or not wonderful) discovery here because 1) I was writing a book and had little time for any other writing and 2) I didn’t want to write as a visitor to Chicago. I wanted to be a Chicagoan.
Lula Cafe – It has a hippie-hipster Logan Square vibe with an eclectic new American farm-to-table, fresh vegetable-forward, fare influenced by far-flung spots. We go most often for special dinner occasions (birthdays, out-of-town visitors) but lunch/brunch is good too. Highlights: Baked Feta, Pasta Yia Yia, Caesar Salad, Carrot Cake.
But now that I have more time – and I’m a sort-of Chicagoan – I hope to write more about the city, so readers can benefit from my discoveries and so I can remember my discoveries. With so many dining options in Chicago, it’s hard to keep visiting the same one. There’s always another beckoning. But here are 10 restaurants that we have returned to one or more times – so they qualify as favorites:
Riccardo Trattoria – This is our favorite local traditional Italian restaurant, near us in Lincoln Park. (There’s another one in Fulton market). It’s a small, warm, and cozy space with solid not too basic or complicated Italian classics like Fettucine Bolognese and feels like a real neighborhood spot.
Le Bouchon – Another warm and cozy spot, this time in Bucktown, serving French bistro classics: steak frites, mussels w/frites, French onion soup; Caesar Salad, delicious baguettes.
Small Cheval – This is a favorite fast-foody casual burger place, a spin-off of Au Cheval on Randolph. We used to go to the one on Wells in Old Town but now there’s one even closer, on Halstead in Lincoln Park.
Cumin – Our go-to for take-out Indian food, located in Wicker Park. We’re also fans of Kama, nearby in Wicker Park, but even better in the southwest burb of La Grange, which offers superb tandoori chicken cooked in an oven that apparently doesn’t meet Chicago health code so isn’t available at the city location…or wasn’t when we last visited.)
Kala – Our favorite fast-foody casual Modern Greek spot in Lincoln Park/lakeview, with souvlaki bowls – grilled and charred meat or vegetables from skewers served as a sandwich or atop salad or rice.
Smoque BBQ – Excellent smoked ribs, brisket, pulled pork, conveniently located in Old Irving Park near our kids’ place i so we can order when visiting and/or babysitting.
Aba – Buzzing Fulton Market California-influenced Mediterranean restaurant with shared plates – including whipped feta and charred eggplant spreads, kebabs, shawarma-spiced skirt steak.
The Gage – Favorite spot pre-or-post theater or museum on Michigan Avenue at Millennium Park, serving European-influenced American fare (or some such)…i.e. wide variety of food for light or heavier dining.
Hopleaf – A Belgium gastro pub in Andersonville with excellent mussels w/frites, beer, crispy pork belly, and quiet shady back outdoor patio.
TakeBetsywithyou 