Here’s a rare bit of Lunar Camel Co. news-gathering for you, last night I was having dinner at Chuko in Prospect Heights and it caught fire.
Not flaming fire, but it got very smoky and everyone had to go outside. I think everyone else had finished their dinner but not us! We’d inhaled an order of grilled shishito peppers (so good with lime and flaky salt) and an eggplant bun (crazy thing, tasted exactly like a McDonald’s burger; I have not eaten one of those in at least twenty years but the taste is unmistakable) and our ramen had just arrived.
Our waiter half-jokingly suggested that we take our ramen outside but the bowls were hot so we left them behind. A difficult thing to do. It was kind of late (we’d arrived just in time to order before the kitchen closed at 10) and it was cold outside, and we got there late because we’d just smoked a bowl, and here was steaming hot, seemingly-lovely ramen. Fuck!
What a nice advertisement we would have made, resolutely slurping our noodles on the sidewalk while the second, third, and fourth firetrucks arrived. Alas, we tipped our waiter and took off for Chavela’s, where we had a second round of appetizers, a couple of margaritas, and, at last, dinner (chilaquiles x 2).
I took a sleep-break because I’m an old woman now but I awoke still in serious eating mode. Breakfast did not require planning because Party Lights played Montreal and brought back bagels from St-Viateur (délicieux!), but what am I going to eat for lunch and for tonight’s first and second dinner?