Eat Eat

Suburban library in the pouring rain. It turned to snow shortly after. Our last day in Illinois the rain was pouring down, alternating with snow and sleet. The second baseball game we'd bought tickets for was cancelled (they should have called off the first one as well-I have never seen baseball played in those conditions) but since we were all attired in waterproof clothing anyway, we decided to drive out to the cemetery to see the family. I wouldn't describe either of my parents as responsible  individuals, but the one thing they did plan ahead for was buying burial plots. They might not have known where they'd be living in their day to day lives, but at least they knew where they were headed at the end. In this case, w a a a a y the hell out in the western suburbs, which in the 60's must have seemed like the other side of the world. They paid the plots off in installments over the years. Being a newer cemetery, all the headstones are flat to the ground, which makes m...

Or an Onion Board. I should note that I was distracted and let mine rise too long, making it more focaccia than onion board. Still, it was happily devoured by husband and son. This photo was half of the board on my largest platter. You could make this recipe as two, three or even four individual breads. My dad loved onion boards. I mean, loved  them, to the point of driving a good distance out of his way to buy one at the bagel bakery on Touhy Ave. In Chicago (or was it still Lincolnwood over there? I can't remember). Even after moving to Highland Park, he'd get in the car on Saturday night to go buy bagels (for Sunday breakfast) and an onion board. Sometimes, I'd tag along for the ride. My mother, the food police  didn't think my dad should eat onion boards for some reason that escapes me now. Six bagels with cream cheese and smoked salmon? Sure. Onion board? That'll kill you!  I'm sure there was some logic behind it. I loved that bakery on a Saturday night. Be...