It was a weekend of heat and sweat. Dan and I walked nearly ten miles as we criss-crossed Andersonville and Ravenswood and over to Lincoln Square and into Uptown as we went to open houses for seven condos and one house.
This pie is a homely little dessert.
But there’s a reason it was formerly named crack pie. (And there are reasons the name was problematic.
September is back.
And I find, still, that I miss school. I miss the stuff of it. It’s been too many years since I’ve bought school supplies.
The market has been full of beautiful peppers. The usual bell peppers in red, orange, yellow and green, jalapeños, Hungarian wax, Trinidadian perfume, poblanos, and fiery habañeros.
It’s been a hot summer in Chicago. This July and August we’ve watched the mercury climb into the nineties more days than I care to count.