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France 2011: Day Four

Plane Trees

Saturday      1 October 2011

Castelnaudary to Villepinte

Bon voyage. We’re up by 7:30 to prepare for a final run-thru with the Le Boat representative. This is our last chance to have questions answered before we get underway. While Jenny, Rick, and Anne stay with the boat, Mary, Karen, and I head into town to do the grocery shopping. We three have a great time–the grocery has an amazing selection of meats and cheeses–and we go a little crazy buying beaucoup du fromage.

Working the locks. Once back on board, after a brief crew meeting, we pull out, bidding Castelnaudary au revoir as we motor the short distance to the first of the fifteen locks we’ll pass through that day. Navigating the locks is fun, but depending on conditions (wind direction, size of your boat, and the number of boats squeezing into a lock at one time) it can be a bit tricky.

Since we’re heading south, the canal is stair-stepping down toward the Mediterranean, so what we’re doing is called “locking down”; with each lock, the water is drained out, lowering us (on average) eight feet to the level of the next section of the canal. Motor along the canal until you come to the next lock, rinse and repeat. If the lock is open and there’s no wait, you pull right in, loosely tying up the boat both fore and aft by looping ropes around the bollards on shore.

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Room for two more boats, believe it or not.

You wait for any other boats to enter the lock–a lock can hold three boats at once, a tight fit–and then the lock keeper closes the gates behind you. Using electronic controls, the lock keeper opens the sluice doors and the boats in the lock gradually descend with the decreasing water level.

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Going down.

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The air is filled with the sound of rushing water and everyone takes care to keep their boats steady. You don’t want to bump into another boat, scrape the side of the lock as you sink past the wall, or worse yet, have the lip of your boat hang on the edge of the lock. Once you’ve reached the level of the canal below, the doors on the other end of the lock are opened and the boats exit in the same order they entered.

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Waiting in line.

As you exit the lock, you may pass boats waiting to “lock up,” tied up to the shore and waiting for you to clear the lock. They enter the lock in the opposite direction, reversing the entire process, and so it goes back-and-forth throughout the day. (The locks don’t operate at night and they close for lunch between 12:30-1:30.) As you approach a lock, you look at the doors and for signals (when available.) If the doors are open, go right on in, no waiting. If the doors are closed, you pull up to the shore nearby to wait your turn. Some locks have signal lights to direct traffic.

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Signal at the Trebes lock.

Since we’re cruising on the off-season, there isn’t much traffic coming or going on the canal. This means we rarely have to wait for a lock and when we do, it’s never for more than twenty minutes. With room for only three boats, traveling during peak vacation months can mean a fair amount of down-time spent waiting in line for multiple locks-full of boats to pass through before you get your turn. Because we rarely have to wait long (if ever) to get through each lock, we’re able to cover more territory in a day. And with a view like this, waiting in line has never been more enjoyable.

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~ • ~

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Above the quadruple lock at Saint-Roch.

The staircase locks at Saint-Roch Lock. Our first Canal du Midi locking experience is the set of four stair-step locks at Saint-Roch, which we do on our own before catching up to another boat on the canal going our way. Throughout the rest of the day, we tag team in and out of the next eleven locks; they enter first and pull up on the left, and we follow, hugging the right wall of the lock. It’s a tight fit, but we all get into a rhythm and it goes quickly.

Lock keepers are the envy of us boaters, living idyllic lives canal-side in the South of France. Each lock keeper has a charming home surrounded by flowers and trees, eucalyptus, palm, and tall juniper. Occasionally there’s a cat, a dog, a vegetable garden or all three. Gone are the days when lock keepers have to manually crank open the locks, now most of the labor is performed at the push of a button. Some locks have a little shop, selling souvenirs and staples (water, wine, fruit, honey). One lock yard we pass is decorated with metal sculptures for sale, presumably made by the lock keeper during his down time.

Bonne Journée

The lock keepers, young and old, men and women, stand watch as boats enter and exit the locks. Friendly all, they rarely give verbal or physical assistance; that’s not their job.

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Overnight in Villepinte. After about three hours of traveling south on the canal, we tie up along the bank, just south of a bridge on the outskirts of Villepinte. It’s a peaceful and picturesque spot, straight out of the brochure.

We all enjoy the quiet afternoon napping, reading, photo taking, and wine drinking before dinnertime, when we take a fifteen minute walk down a plane tree-lined road leading into town. We’ve made reservations at Les Deux Acacias and enjoy a terrific meal feasting on the house specialty, cassoulet, a duck, sausage, and beef stew cooked to perfection. It’s delicious, especially when paired with a Minervois, which has quickly become our go-to local red wine.

Cassoulet Again!

Cassoulet at Les Deux Acacias

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Having packed head lamps (always handy on a boat), we use them to light our way back to the canal, climbing the gangway safely back on board our home for the next six nights. Unfortunately, there’s a problem with the electronics that flush the toilets. Unlike a sailboat toilet that has to be manually pumped to flush, this boat has the luxury of a toilet that flushes with the push of a button–when it works. Earlier in the day, one of the toilets stopped working. (There’s a green light that resets when the plumbing can be used again. No green light, no working toilet.) Coming home from dinner, we discover prohibitory red lights in all three bathrooms. Ugh. So much for the two-month-old new-fangled high-tech boat.

Not once when imagining my trip on the canal did I ever dream we’d be camping in France and peeing in the woods!

Clicking on any of the photos above will take you to my Flickr site where you can see more photos from the trip.

So, I saw The Hunger Games. I saw it last week actually, but a vocal-immobilizing head cold has curtailed all extracurricular activities and I’m just now getting around to writing about it. Having sat on it for a week, my opinion of the film hasn’t improved. Having found the film to be relatively unengaging and somewhat annoying, I’m probably in the minority here, though I wouldn’t know, since I don’t care enough to read any more reviews of the film.

If you’ve been living under a rock and don’t know what The Hunger Games is, it’s only the most hotly anticipated literary adaptation to film since the final Harry Potter book. In a dystopian world, teenagers are forced to battle to the death in a televised tournament designed to squelch rebellion among the twelve districts, subservient to the central capital of Panem. Katniss is the bow-and-arrow wielding heroine around which the three Hunger Games books revolve; this is the first of the series.

Having read (and enjoyed) all three books, I was looking forward to the film. While I know a number of people (young and old) who’ve read the books, I found few outside of the books’ fan base who had any interest in watching a film with such a grim premise. I myself was curious to see how the film would handle the violence, which is so central to the story. I was looking forward to seeing the games, Panem, and the now familiar characters brought to life.

Alas, I have to say, I was mostly underwhelmed by director Gary Ross‘ interpretation of Suzanne Collins story. Sure, I was entertained while watching it, but as the film progressed I found myself missing the emotional impact I’d felt when reading the book. The dramatic high-points seemed glossed over. I felt increasingly disconnected from the story in a way I never was while reading the book, turning pages as fast as I could.

Granted, I realize that a book is a book and a movie can never perfectly replicate the reading experience. I’m fine with creators remastering source material to fashion something new, a fresh and original way to experience the story. But I just found the whole thing to be a big blur of wonky camera work and fight scenes, reducing it to a formula action film with half the heart and soul of the original story.

Part of the problem (for me) was the camera work, herky-jerky and spliced-and-diced to the extreme. I understand that the director wanted to convey the panic and pandemonium of the games (and I suspect avoid showing some of the more graphic violence on screen), but there could have been other ways to accomplish this without disconnecting viewers from the narrative (and in some cases make it difficult to follow what’s really going on). I’d heard complaints about the motion-sickness-inducing camerawork before I went, and I knew I was in agreement when the wavering camera shots began right from the start, in the opening scene of Katniss walking through her village. Really? She’s just walking through the village! One of the strengths of Collins’ story is the creativity she employed in creating this whole new world, the environment, characters, and the game itself. The crazy camera work and quick-fire editing prevents us from losing ourselves completely in the world of The Hunger Games. We’re continually jerked awake by mind-numbing visuals.

I wasn’t crazy about the acting either, though I thought Stanley Tucci and Elizabeth Banks brought to life the more extreme characters of Panem. Jennifer Lawrence looked the part, but I thought she was fairly uninspired as Katniss. (When so much of a book contains the thoughts of the main character, I realize this is challenging to get on screen, but her character on film seemed far less complex than she did on paper.) I thought Woody Harrelson’s Haymitch was far too sympathetic and Lenny Kravitz was just downright boring as Cinna.

The final test: a week after seeing the film, it’s had no lasting effect on me, where the book had me thinking about it for weeks afterward.

France 2011: Day Three

Castelnaudary, our starting point.

Friday      30 September 2011

High-speed getaway. We’re up early (the sun rises later here than in Chicago) to catch our cab to the train station and our 8:10 a.m. TGV to Toulouse, where we change from the high-speed rail to a standard train for our final leg of the journey. Our destination is Castelnaudary, a town on the Canal du Midi where our boat charter, Le Boat, has a base. After a bit of confusion, we climb aboard our 2nd-class train car and take our seats. For most of the ride, we have the entire front section of the car to ourselves and enjoy a relaxing five-hour journey through the French countryside, rolling corn fields, and vineyards dotted with windmills.

During our layover in Toulouse, we grab lunch from the Paul counter (ham and Camembert sandwiches on baguettes). Then a final hour on the train to Castelnaudary. They don’t always announce the stops, so when we reach our stop sooner than expected, we make a mad dash to get off the train.

We walk from the station to the Le Boat mooring at the Great Basin (about an eight-minute hike along the road) and after a quick check-in, we’re aboard our Vision 3 houseboat, setting up housekeeping for the next week.

Bedroom, one of threeHome floating home. The boat is amazing, and amazingly spacious compared to what we’re used to from our sailboat charters in the BVIs. This canal cruiser has three large staterooms, each with plenty of storage space, sleeping room for three, and a separate spacious bathroom, complete with a full shower! The beds are large (for a boat) and comfortable with plenty of blankets and there’s a flatscreen TV in every room, including the galley.

Up front is an incredibly well-appointed kitchen, with everything you need–from carving knives to egg cups and a salad-spinner–to comfortably cook and entertain for ten. The boat’s state-of-the-art controls include small screens displaying the battery charge, water tank levels etc. It’s equipped with a camera in front and back for maneuvering and “parking” the boat. The craft can be driven from inside (from a captain’s station near the galley) and outside from the upper deck. Upper steering can even be performed with a joystick!

Topside
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And then there are the bathrooms. In my humble boat-chartering experience, I would simply describe them as palatial. Chances are, if you’ve ever been on a sailboat and had to use “the head,” you’ll understand. And if you’ve had to shower on a sailboat, you’ll really appreciate the upgrade we experienced on the canal. The bathroomWhen we were cruising the British Virgin Islands, the bathroom situation involved a standard marine pump toilet–always a fragrant joy–and because the waste tanks are dumped at sea, paper products had to be discarded in the trash. Enough said. On top of all that, the shower is the entire bathroom itself. An efficient use of space but not the most pleasant set-up. The houseboat bathrooms, on the other hand, have electronic toilets–no pumping!–and the showers are separated by a shower door. Except for the size, you’d almost swear you were in a hotel. And with three bathrooms between the six of us, it was an ideal set-up–when it worked. (More on that to come.)

Our first French test. After a quick unpacking, a Le Boat representative comes aboard to give us the boat run-through. Ordinarily, learning the ins-and-outs, do’s-and-dont’s of a new charter boat is challenging enough; now we factor in a language barrier between the Le Boat staff and our captain. Karen earns the first glass of wine by acting as an extraordinary translator. (For weeks leading up to the trip, she’s been practicing with language tapes and conversing in French with anyone who will listen, and in this two-hour session it all pays off.) This is the first–but not the last–time when we call upon her French skills to get us out of a tricky situation.

Welcome Aboard

The charter company surprises us with a wonderful gift basket filled with champagne, wine and canned cassoulet, as a thank you for renting one of their brand-spanking-new 1500-series boats. As the week goes on, and we experience a few issues that go hand-in-hand with breaking in a new boat, the good will of the gift basket becomes clear.

Once the boat run-through is complete, we take a test drive in the basin so Captain Rick can try his hand at the controls with the staff member standing by to answer questions. After we return to the dock, we break out bread and cheese before taking the 20-minute walk around the harbor and into town for dinner.

Belle Epoque

Our first meal in the South of France. Everyone has a terrific meal at La Belle Epoque, a family restaurant recommended by Le Boat. We dine on outstanding duck confit cassoulet (brimming with complex flavors), quiche with the creamy consistency of custard, grilled salmon, and steak. So near Minervois wine country, we enjoy the first of many bottles of a fantastic wine from the region.

Cassoulet!
One of our favorite wines of the trip.

Clicking on any of the photos above will take you to my Flickr site where you can see more photos from the trip.

Also, today is the last day for this month’s Le Boat photo contest. I’ve entered a few photos from this trip. The contest is through Facebook, so if you’re so inclined, I’d really appreciate your voting for my photos. The contest page is here; scroll to the bottom and you’ll currently find my photos around page 11. The grand prize is a boat charter in France. Thanks!

France 2011: Day Two

Thursday    29 September 2011

A full day in Paris. Karen, Anne, Jenny and I make an early morning pilgrimage to the patisserie in our favorite square to get breakfast. We take our pastries down the hill to the garden at the Natural History Museum (Jardin des Plantes) to sit and eat while watching the joggers, not feeling guilty in the least.

Ancient sycamore

An ancient sycamore in the Jardin des Plantes, planted in 1785.

And all that was left was his foot.

Graphic statue in the Botanic Garden.

Afterward, we head back up to the square for coffee at a sidewalk cafe. We meet up with Rick and Mary to walk down to the river and over to Sainte-Chappelle on the Ile de la Cité.

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Sainte-Chappelle welcoming committee.

Sainte-Chappelle on a sunny day. After a brief wait in line, we enter the grounds and tour through the 13th-century church, built by King Louis IX. On the ground floor is the oldest mural in Paris and up on the second floor, the king’s chapel is a riot of color, with brilliant stained glass windows stretching far above to meet with a brilliant blue vaulted ceiling. The light from these walls of glass play off of the columns, stonework, and floor; it’s gorgeous and impossible to capture in a snapshot.

Annunciation--The oldest mural in Paris.

After we get our fill of Gothic light and color, it’s time for lunch. Unfortunately, in all our restaurant pre-planning, we failed to make a reservation for lunch, so we’re shut out of the restaurant we’d hoped to try. (Oh well, next time!) We substitute with the next door neighbor, Restaurant Paul. It’s pleasant enough but nothing special and is easily the least memorable of all our meals.

Berthillon: Rhubarb and salted caramel

Rhubarb and salted caramel.

I scream, you scream, we all scream for Berthillon. Afterward, Rick and Mary split off to visit the Caravaggios in the Louvre and we four walk through the Marais to La Place de Vosges and then over to a must-see on our Paris itinerary: the legendary Berthillon Ice Cream. Tiny scoops of a creamy salted caramel and sorbet-like rhubarb were phenomenal.

Before returning to the hotel, Karen, Jenny and I hike back up the hill to have a beer at what is now our favorite neighborhood hangout, one of the outdoor cafes in the fountain courtyard. While enjoying the ambiance and people watching, we flip through a guidebook and discover there’s the ruin of a Roman amphitheater a few blocks from our hotel. With just enough time to spare before dinner, Karen and I make a detour that way to check out the Arènes de Lutèce. I’m glad to see it’s a living ruin, bustling with activity. Pick-up games of bocci ball and soccer are in full swing, while groups of people socialize in the stands.

Arenes de Lutece

Best. Meal. Ever. At 6:15 sharp, we leave the hotel for a thirty minute walk to our dinner destination, Le Timbre, a tiny storefront restaurant with most tables against the wall and diners squeezed in shoulder-to-shoulder. Our meal is nothing short of phenomenal. As we’re being seated, the chef greets us warmly and brings us a round of champagne and white wine aperitifs to start. Then, after wishing us a good meal, he steps into the tiny kitchen just a few feet from our table to get down to work.

The second seating waits outside Le Timbre.

This meal has gone down in history as one of our trip highlights. We start with snails in a tomato sauce, duck fois gras, sautéed mushrooms, mushroom soup, and the specialty of the day, pig cheek, a loaf of succulent, pan-seared pork with capers. Think of the best bacon you’ve ever had and quadruple it. The next course includes duck breast, white fish with mushrooms, port sausage with lentils, pork back and red cabbage. To finish, we have chocolate mousse, a blue cheese tart with sherry, a Napoleon, roasted figs in red wine, and an amazing poached pear. Every dish was phenomenal. A Bergerac white wine accompanies the meal.

This was a fantastic, leisurely meal, stretching three hours, the norm in France. We were all raving to the chef as we stood up to leave and as soon as our crowd had cleared the place, the staff rushed to prep for the late seating, and we walked home in a culinary glow.

Clicking on any of the photos above will take you to my Flickr site where you can see more photos from the trip.

Tuesday/Wednesday    27/28 September 2011

Night flight to Paris. Our group of six gathers at O’Hare at 6pm. After weeks of preparation and months of anticipation, we’re ready to get on the plane and wake up in France. In the United terminal, we’re surrounded by a mountain of luggage, large and small, duffle bags, daypacks, and camera bags. The time for angsting over just how much to bring for a two-day stay in Paris and a week on a houseboat in the South of France is over. We’re on our way!

Once on the plane and in the air, for the first time ever, I order wine during a flight, hoping it will help induce sleep. According to friends who travel internationally, the best way to minimize jet lag is to spring forward seven hours to get on French time right away and sleep as much as possible on the plane, waking up to the new day when the plane touches down. Almost directly after dinner, the lights in the cabin go out and everyone tries to catch some sleep in the five hours remaining before we land.

When I’m not napping (I can’t really call it sleep), I enjoy watching our progress on the inflight map on the screen in the chair back in front of me. The flight passes quickly and we land around 9:30 a.m., flying through customs without incident. We pick up our bags and are met by the Super Shuttle which takes us into Paris, a long drive (1-1/2 hours in traffic) punctuated by interesting tidbits from the driver.

Our Hotel

We check into the Hotel Saint Christophe, a very pleasant (and very tiny) hotel in the 5th arrondissement. The elevator barely holds one person and three pieces of luggage. After dumping everything off in our rooms, we regroup in the lobby and head out to find a neighborhood spot for lunch. We’re all starving and eager to get the culinary portion of our trip underway.

Lunchtime

Lunch in an alley. A few blocks away, we find a cute corner restaurant (I never did get the name) with plenty of outdoor seating. At first I thought it was located on an alley, but came to realize, nope, that’s just a typical narrow French street. I chose the Prix Fix meal, a common (and often economical) option found in most French restaurants. Everything, from the snails and grilled lamb to the crème caramel, was quite tasty, probably accentuated by the long hours of travel and mediocre plane food. Others in the group feast on goat cheese salad, mussels with fries, and steak with béarnaise sauce. We order our first bottle of wine, toasting the beginning of another adventure.

We all enjoy people-watching as we dine al fresco on the mostly pedestrian street, marveling whenever a car threads itself through the people, walking and dining on either side of the road.

Down to the river. After lunch, Rick and Mary return to the hotel to nap and the rest of us walk down to the Seine. After a short stroll along the river, Jenny and Anne succumb to jet lag and return to the hotel, and Karen and I push through our fatigue to continue walking along the Seine toward Notre Dame. Along the way, we watch the tour boats floating along and the people streaming across the many bridges. Walking through the garden behind the cathedral, we circle around Notre Dame and decide to go inside when we see that the line to enter is moving fast and the admission is free. To put it lamely, Notre Dame is absolutely impressive. Many visitors sit in contemplation, serenade by the endless click of digital cameras.

Notre Dame

We walk in the sticky heat back to our hotel and continue up the hill to a bustling neighborhood square lined on all four sides by shops and cafes, tables lined up facing a fountain in the middle of the tiny traffic circle. Karen and I enjoy our first cafe crème at an outdoor cafe, people-watching and soaking up the atmosphere of this quintessential French street scene.

This square quickly became a favorite hangout.

My first cafe créme of the trip.

The first of many outstanding meals. Our first dinner is an outstanding meal at A la Biche au Bois. From the moment we step inside, we receive warm and friendly attention from our waiter, and in no time we’ve kicked off the party with the featured house cocktail, a Kir Noir, made with red wine and plum liquor. Mmm good. A bottle of bordeaux with dinner, which includes deer and salmon patés, mushrooms a la Greque, and a big pot of outstanding, succulent chicken stew (made with wine, of course.) This was followed by a mouth-watering cheese course that will live forever in my memory; goat, sheep, and cow cheeses that had us all exclaiming the glory of French cheese. Dessert followed: sautéed apples and puff pastry, coffee glacé, and a chocolate cake with crème anglaise.

Tango by the Seine

Afterward, another walk by the Seine, watching the boats and the varied night life along the river. We pass groups of musicians jamming together (each with their own half-moon of an audience), dancers sashaying and tangoing in a circle to music playing on a boom box, and folks in large and small groups simply enjoying the view over a bottle of wine.

We head toward Notre Dame, beautifully lit and the center of attention even at 10 p.m. Sidewalks are busy with wanderers and a large crowd watches skating street performers put on a show. Tired and well-fed, we return to the hotel to turn in, our mission to avoid jet lag and stay up for our entire first day in France a success.

Early Bloomer #2

This will be our second summer with the new backyard and everything is well established at this point. I thought it would be fun to track the progress of plants as they bud, bloom and leaf out. We’re having an unseasonably warm and early spring (temperatures in the 80s! in March!!) so the timing of everything seems a bit out of whack.

Early Bloomer #1

These daffodils beat the hyacinth by almost a week, which is unusual.

The witchhazel was the first thing to bloom (as usual), but it too bloomed weeks ahead of schedule. On the opposite fence, the climbing hydrangea is starting to leaf out all over, a sign that this plant is much healthier than the one it replaced last summer. That one seemed half dead on arrival and never really took off. This one already shows great signs of promise.

Climbing Hydrangea - Mid March

Climbing hydrangea.

The small spirea doesn’t look like much, but it’s become one of my favorites in the backyard. It changes constantly throughout the season, starting off with vibrant yellow-green leaves that darken with the summer and turn a beautiful ruby red in the fall. In June, pink flowers will begin to appear and if you keep it pruned back, the plant will bloom all summer. Its shape reminds me of a non-stop firework.

Spirea - Mid March

One of my favorite plants in the yard.

The fountain is still covered up, but not for much longer at the rate our weather pattern is going. The tiny irises are the first to bloom in this section of the backyard.

Tiny Irises

Backyard Distillery

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I’ve got a distillery in my backyard!

Well, within a mile of my house so that counts, right?

Yesterday, a group of us took a tour of Few Spirits, located in south Evanston. Yes, that Evanston, the hometown of the Women’s Christian Temperance Union. Evanston, a town that was famously dry for years and years and now, we’ve got a distillery, and there’s talk of a brewery or two kicking off in the near future. What would Frances Willard think?

Having visited a handful of distilleries in Kentucky, I couldn’t pass up the chance to see a hometown operation. It was especially interesting to see how a small batch distiller works in comparison to the big guys.

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The gin still.

You know you’re in a distillery the moment you walk inside the building. It has that wonderful sweet smell.

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Giant Tupperware filled with fermenting mash.

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Bottling station.

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Tasting time!

Of the five spirits we sampled, my favorite was the barrel-aged gin and the rye. I love their labels, which feature scenes from the 1893 Columbian Exposition (aka The World’s Fair.)

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Now that you’ve got the address, you can visit too. It’s a fun and unusual thing to do on a Saturday afternoon. And it’s tasty too!

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