Once upon a time, I was a single girl living in the city all alone for the very first time. I had found a terrific little box of an apartment on a popular street just off the Magnificent Mile in Chicago’s Gold Coast neighborhood. It had a pool on the roof, a doorman, a view of a sliver of Lake Michigan (if you stood in just the right place, smashed into a corner between the wall and a beam) and a teeny tiny little kitchen. It was here that my interest in cooking began to take shape. [click to continue…]
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