Bokeh Chicago

Neighborhood spots provide some of the most hearty experiences. I’m biased, though, having earned a living in a quaint one in Evanston.

Albany Park’s Bokeh, nevertheless on the outskirts of the typical trodden path, proves to be a contender in a sophisticated Chicago bar scene.

img_20200219_001651_019

It’s namesake, derived from the Japanese word “blur”, is a common phenomenon in photographic technique.

We scooch up close to the bar and scan the menu. My eyes graze the signature cocktail list: “crop factor”, “lens flare”, and “aperture” immediately reveal a theme.

Time Lapse Photo of Lights
Bokeh, in a photographic sense.

“The owner is a photographer”, the bartender engages.

I decide to order the drink that makes the most sense from the options: The Bokeh.

img_20200219_004140_557

Bokeh, in cocktail preparation.

Fernet, simple, lemon & lime, and egg white. A Fernet “sour”: the egg white blurs the harshness of the citrus against Fernet’s unequivocally identifiable taste.

We make friendly conversation with our host and the single gentleman next to us, who offers us a free round. We hesitantly oblige to split one, accepting his half drunken gesture, considering the female bartender has been referring to him by name all night and keeping polite conversation.

Every bar has their regular..

Overall, the pleasant, sophisticated atmosphere on a Tuesday evening matched with  friendly conversation and a thought-provoking menu leaves us satisfied.

At the tail end of the CTA Brown line, places like Bokeh beg us to venture farther with our palates and our social scene.

 

 

 

Il Caffè Americano Eats Italian in Mexico.

Just returned from a trip to Mexico City.

When friends and colleagues ask me what I ate, I tell them I’ve had some of the best Italian food on this side of the pond..


 

Two years ago, I wandered down an unsuspecting street in La Condesa and stumbled upon an indoor/outdoor pizza joint with a mezcaleria joined at the hip. I was alone, starving, and the twinkling lights caught my eye and smell of pizza drew me near.

When my friend and I were sauntering around the same part of the hood this past week, I told him it was my mission and that we had to find this pizza again. I’ve been dreaming about it for too long..

Pizza isn’t something you’d think of going out of your way for in CDMX. Your assumptions point you straight to the taco stand, where an al pastor has your name on it and the jarritos are icy cold.

Yet, the pizza in this city holds up to any world-class Italian tradition, and is met with local innovation.

Pizza Nosferatu in La Condesa does just that.

Here, the mezcal is poured like fine wine. The staff, painted with skin-ink and carrying a delightfully unobtrusive presence, pour various one ounce tastings and dresses tables with orange slices and a spicy/salty side dish.

img_20200212_201343

The menu is an exciting read for pizza connoisseurs, with combinations of Mexican flavors and classic Italian preparations mingling suitably.

We dive right in.

Here, our pizza is a carrier for micro-greens, paprika, and pulverized pistachios.

img_20200212_201623

albondigas con champiñones: meatballs with mushrooms, pistachio powder, paprika, dried chilis, and pork chicharrons with micro greens.

We needed round two. Maybe something lighter… titled primavera, this pizza evokes springtime feelings and tastes.

I didn’t even know these flowers were edible!

img_20200212_213101

Ricotta, jamon serrano fresco, arugula, reduction of orange, and flowers.

This place obliterates my notion of what a pizza can be and what true culture is all about.

Variations on a theme prove more interesting than pure tradition.

Let’s all head down to CDMX for some more food adventures…


 

 

 

 

When I’m Happy, Everything is Art

When I’m Happy, Everything is Art.

When I’m content, the world is a technicolor dream and all things are possible.

My girlish naivete takes me by the hand and guides me towards my dreams.

The simplest of things evoke the greatest wonder, bring forth in my imagination the choosiest of sensations.

Sweet tastes sweeter, sour tastes exhilaratingly pungent and satisfying.

The air is tangible, the ground evaporates.

My mind, awake yet absent, encompasses the inspirations of generations before and after me.

Ideas become reality.

img_20191105_122807_811

1 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 21