Chicago’s Downtown Farmstand: A fresh stop for Chicago locavores and food lovers

Chicago just gets it. Quality of life, greener living, supporting local food producers… The latest proof is Chicago’s Downtown Farmstand, a city pilot program and downtown retail outlet for “edible local products, all produced within 250 miles of Chicago,” as their website says. Run by the city’s Department of Cultural Affairs in partnership with Chicago’s existing local and sustainable food communities, the store just opened October 1. It promises “fresh fruits, vegetables and herbs in season; a full range of condiments, preserves, seasonings and other dry goods items; baked goods and other seasonal items as available.”

We visited this past weekend and found a wide selection of precisely that. Heirloom tomatoes from Illinois, pasta from an Amish community in Indiana… And this gorgeous partially baked pie made with cherries from Michigan, from First Slice Pie Café in Chicago, a self-funding charity that provides access to wholesome food for those living in poverty. We finished the pie in our oven at home and all but finished it off in one sitting [we did have company, I’d like to point out]. There were fresh herbs and produce, dried beans, jams, pickled mushrooms and more from small, independent local producers. One of our favorites, The Spice House, was well represented with a selection of dried herbs and spices.

There were some other surprises too, proving that pride for local food production knows no size. They carry Morton Kosher Salt and Bay’s English Muffins, for instance, both local favorites produced for decades right here in Chicago. And salsas and chips from comparative upstart Rick Bayless’ Frontera Foods.

For farmers and local producers, Chicago’s Downtown Farmstand offers an outlet besides the seasonal weekend Farmers Markets in the city. And even better, they don’t have to be on hand to make sales. But the store’s mission goes beyond selling food. Organizers say that it will “serve as a hub for the local sustainable food industry, offering educational programs and activities, including classes, discussions and seminars, designed to foster interaction between local growers/producers and Chicago residents and visitors.” The store will operate as a pilot program through mid-December this year; plans are for it to reopen full time next spring.

Chicago’s Downtown Farmstand
66 E. Randolph
Tuesday – Friday, 11am – 7pm
Saturday, 11am – 4pm

Celebrate, big or small

The kitchen is closed for the holidays. We’ll be back next week with a new recipe, something new on the boombox and more. In the meantime, a quick word about big and little celebrations of the season.

The house in the picture above is an example of big. It’s in our Logan Square neighborhood in Chicago. The people living here have done this for years now, and every year it gets more involved. It now includes sound and a small working ferris wheel. People come from all over to see it; in fact, I was only able to photograph it sans a steady stream of cars because I went late at night when it was about zero degrees out, with winds gusting to 50 miles an hour.

We call the place Harry Potter’s House. When it’s not festooned with more lights than a small town, you can see the two huge bronze dragons flanking the front door and the giant fountain out front covered with little birds and perhaps more dragons. Obviously the residents favor flamboyance and celebrating in a big way.

At the opposite end of the celebration spectrum is the small, beautiful poem below by American poet e.e. cummings. I remember first hearing it when I was a child. One of the many teachers who touch our lives more than we know at the time read it to our second or third grade class. Poems were of course supposed to rhyme, so I thought she was reading us a story.

I rediscovered it in college when I stumbled on cummings’ amazing poetry, thanks to another teacher. Only this person wasn’t really a teacher—he ran a small bookstore near school. He sold my girlfriend and me only a handful of books over our many visits, but he spent countless hours sitting and reading poetry to us.

I’m embarrassed to say I don’t remember either of these wonderful teachers’ names. But I will always remember the wonderful gifts they gave me. One of them was this poem.

little tree
little silent Christmas tree
you are so little
you are more like a flower
who found you in the green forest
and were you very sorry to come away?
see i will comfort you
because you smell so sweetly
i will kiss your cool bark
and hug you safe and tight
just as your mother would,
only don’t be afraid
look the spangles
that sleep all the year in a dark box
dreaming of being taken out and allowed to shine,
the balls the chains red and gold the fluffy threads,
put up your little arms
and i’ll give them all to you to hold
every finger shall have its ring
and there won’t be a single place dark or unhappy
then when you’re quite dressed
you’ll stand in the window for everyone to see
and how they’ll stare!
oh but you’ll be very proud
and my little sister and i will take hands
and looking up at our beautiful tree
we’ll dance and sing
“Noel Noel”

—e.e. cummings

Whatever holiday you celebrate and whether you celebrate it big or small, I hope it’s filled with wonderful moments and memorable gifts. I’ll see you next week. Or as we used to say in grade school and think ourselves the kings and queens of wit, “See you next year!”

Champagne, a missing cat and Abbott & Costello

We moved last weekend. Actually, the process has been ongoing in earnest for a few months now, but Saturday morning the actual movers came with the truck. We’d hired them to move the big stuff—furniture, mainly. That meant we were moving everything else, carload by exhausting carload.

Friday night we made two runs, then packed the car again to drive it full when we led the movers to the new place. We ended up getting to bed at 3 o’clock Saturday morning and got up at 7:30 to finish getting ready for the movers arriving at 9.

I don’t recommend moving on four and a half hours’ sleep.

We’d heard and read all kinds of horror stories about movers showing up late or not at all, but our crew arrived about 15 minutes early. Which was the cue for our 17-year-old cat Cosmo to add to the drama of the day by disappearing. He’s been an indoor only cat for the last ten years, but springtime always awakens the prowling gene in him, and he starts hanging out around windows and doors, sniffing the air and looking hopeful. We were afraid he’d already managed to slip out somehow—or would do so once the movers were going in and out. Finally, though, he nonchalantly sauntered out of a room we had each searched top to bottom, twice. How the hell do they do that? We promptly confined him in the room he’d just exited, and the move got under way.

The movers were amazingly efficient; when they finished unloading on the other end, it was only noon. And Marion and I were only getting started. We made another run to the old place, picking up another load, this one including Cosmo. Once he was safely installed in the new place, we unpacked boxes for a few hours, then made a run to what I’ve dubbed the holy trinity: Target, Home Depot and Petsmart [otherwise known as the cat food store in our household]. By the time we’d hit all three, it was eight o’clock and no dinner plans had been made, other than we needed to eat some. Fast. Continue reading “Champagne, a missing cat and Abbott & Costello” →

“…Christmas gifts. Hahahaha!”

Like Thanksgiving, Christmas is another tradition-laden holiday. For seven or eight years now, one of our traditions has been to go to Chinatown for dinner on Christmas Eve. It started when Marion’s sister Lena told us in an offhanded, “isn’t that interesting” kind of way that two of her coworkers did this every year. We are HUGE fans of Chinese food—and of Chicago’s Chinatown—so any excuse to go there is fine by us. Thus, a tradition was born. Continue reading ““…Christmas gifts. Hahahaha!”” →