Full of Crepe

Mmm, crepes. If you read the Recrap, you know that my friend Season and I went out on the town with SWC regular, Luke Baggins. He's in town from Seattle, and to welcome him, we arranged for steady rainfall and a food porn menage a trois. The polite thing to do would have been to let him make the call, since he's in town for a limited time only. During his tenure in Chi-town, Luke became well-versed in all of the fine foods our city has to offer. But Season and I got it in our heads that it was a crepe day, and I think he got my not-so-subtle suggestions that crepes were the way to go.

Icosium Kafe in the Andersonville neighborhood suited our needs perfectly. Centrally located between Season's Lincoln Square apartment and Luke's Rogers Park location, the Algerian creperie seemed the logical choice. We had some Turkish coffee, which started off good, but the second batch was a bit watery. No worries, though. Out came the vegetable puree soup, which was delicate and slightly spicy. If you like more than slightly spicy, the waitress brought out a dish of chili paste that even a pepper-lover such as myself had to respect.

The crepes were stuffed with sauteed peppers, onions, spinach, tomatoes, goat cheese and sprinkled with pine nuts. Luke and I added to the hedonism with lamb sausage. Although Season doesn't usually enjoy eating babies, even she had to agree that it was delicious.



The crepe was paper thin and caramelized perfectly. It was slightly sweet with crisp edges, which contrasted nicely with the salty-liciousness inside. I hurt myself on food, but not so much that I could refuse to share a lemon crepe with my friends. That would just be rude. I lobbied hard for the classic Nutella crepe, but Season was kind enough to remind me that we had had Nutella that very morning with brunch at my house. Her suggestion made the most sense.

Just when we thought we knew how to overdo it, we were informed that the crepe was served with our choice of ice cream. As the waitress mentioned "pistachio", Season and I both piped up that she could list no more. We were sold. Luke, to his credit, realized he was no match for the two of us brash and bossy broads. He diplomatically agreed to go with the flow.

Mmm. Lemon crepes. I'd never had one before, because I am so grievously addicted to Nutella. But what lovely tastes and textures I've been missing! With the same delicate crepe shell, the lemon seemed to be mixed in with sugar, so each bite had a crunchy, sweet and pure lemon flavor. I said it reminded me of powdered Lemonheads, and Season agreed, but added that it was, "Without the classic Ferrara Pan cardboard taste." The pistachio ice cream was more like gelato. Smooth and melty with ginormous chunks of pistachio, surrounded by whipped cream.



God, I am so hungry.

After stuffing ourselves like true Food Porn champs, we staggered out into the warm, rainy night to decide where to have an after-dinner drink. Staring at us was a neon fish wearing a Viking helmet, tippling a martini. Bingo. Simon's. Luke commented on the classic tavern smell, and though the smoking ban has been in effect for some time, the blissful odor of almost eighty years of smoking and boozing wafted out of the open doors. Luke huffed the air deeply and said, "I think that must be my favorite smell."

This photo is of Season's and Luke's drinks, Maker's and Jameson's respectively, and mine, an IPA. I don't have the sophisticated boozer palate these guys do, but I must say, it made for a lovely composition. I call it Liquid Junk:




It was a fabulous evening of gluttony that didn't stop with an after dinner drink. I must confess that our sins also included a few six packs, a midnight Pete's run that included a combo beef and sausage sandwich with red and hot, and a sausage, mushroom, green pepper and onion pizza. What? We couldn't let our good buddy come back all the way from Seattle and NOT help him gorge on all of Chicago's finest gustatory offerings. What kind of friends would we be?

Well, stay tuned, my fellow Food Pervs. Tonight it is Slippy Olter's birthday celebration. It is time for more oysters. I may not need to go into gross detail about my favorite mollusks, but I'm sure we'll find something new to try and to rave about in Food Porn Part Eight. And then it's Lady's birthday celebration on Thursday, where we shall be dining at Bob San on the best sushi in the city.

Thanks for reading. I'm off to run eight miles and swim sixty-four laps. Can't let all this "research" go to my ass, now, can I?