Hey there. What’s up. Good to see you. Apologies are in order for my absence this week. I am battling a weird cold/flu thingie (it leaves me in just enough pain so that I can work, but still be miserable) and the fifth snowstorm of the month, with temperatures hitting a breezy -10F tonight in Chicago. Me? I’ve been hiding under a giant, piping hot pot of homenade chicken soup with my cat Nugget, a good book, and of course, the remnants of my wicked cold/flu thingie. Ah,Chicago winter! A Chicago winter is mind-numbingly cold. I could sit here and rant about how cold it is, but until you come here and experience the wind chill factor from the Lake front yourself, you can not possibly comprehend it’s intensity. Trust me when I say, whoa. It sucks. A Chicago winter is the gray slush that forms when pure white snow mixes with crap from the pavement thanks to a million SUV tires rolling over it, making the snow just slushy enough that it can and will splash you from head to toe when a driver hits his brakes too late and skids in it. It is a slush that makes you slip and slide as you attempt to reach the street corner in time to make the light. It is a slush you come to loathe. A Chicago winter makes people experiencing it go crazy. Drivers want to drive faster, not slow and safe on the dangerous ice. Commuters lose all sense of decency and take their anger out on those around them. Today, I witnessed a man with a shovel go apeshit on a poor CTA bus driver, just because she told him shovels were not allowed on board. The man proceeded to taunt the bus driver, daring her to call the cops on him, then he tried to get others in involved (but we all knew the cardinal rule of commuting in Chicago: don’t engage the crazy), then he demanded she stop in between normal bus stops, and as he left, he threw out a few racial slurs and flipped her off as he slowly walked in front of the bus. Even though I’ve been back from Australia for eight months now, it was still shocking to witness.** (**The funny part is that if this same situation happened in South Australia, I guarantee you at least two little old ladies on the bus would’ve smacked some sense into the guy before throwing him off the bus themselves. That never ceased to amaze me about South Australia. People there seemed to genuinely care about their fellow human being, and even if you didn’t like it, they were always up in your business, be it good or bad.) I’ve also been trying to cut the first podcast of 2009, but as you can see, missed my anticipated deadline of “Tuesday” and am now trading it in for a deadline of “sometime this year”. You can never be too hopeful in a Chicago winter. The one thing that gets me through it all are the endless pots of homemade soup and grilled sandwiches I’ve been making this winter. I think I have actually perfected my chicken soup, and while I would be happy to write down a real recipe when I don’t have a splitting headache, allow me to just chat idly about it here. Two words for you: crockpot stock. It is pure magic. It is more magical than when Donny Osmond toured with Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dream Coat, I kid you not. Throw whatever veggies you have lying around your house in there, add in some garlic and filtered water, and set on low. Leave for at least 6 hours, or overnight, then strain and enjoy. This yields a stock so dark and flavorful (leave the skins on your onion for this!), you won’t believe it is made from veggies. For chicken stock, I chop up a few chicken wings to expose the good stuff in the bones, toss it with some veggies, olive oil, s & p, and roast it in a 425 degree (F) oven for 15 minutes, until it just starts to roast and get a bit brown, but not so much that it is completely cooked. I throw the entire thing into the crockpot with filtered water and let it go overnight, then strain, chill stock in the fridge so the fat can solidify and float to the top for easy removal, and then store in freezer in 2 cup increments. I like to use two parts chicken stock and one part veggie stock with my chicken soup, and bacon fat to fry the veggies. Paired up with a warm and melty toasted sandwich made of fresh mozzarella and pesto (which I froze in the summer for such an occasion), this is the perfect way to forget that your city is slowly turning into Siberia. ~LTG!
