What do I love about my neighborhood? So many things, most of them having to do with food. I love Lula, our local green-to-the-bone cafe-restaurant with my favorite gloopy-stuff-in-bowl-with-eggs breakfasts. I love Fonda del Mar, a Mexican fish joint that even my mom would like. I like Palmer Square, I love my garden, and my neighbors can't be beat. But one of the very best things, better than the carnicerias and the panaderias and the street lined with hawkers selling ceviche and cocteles out of their conversion vans on Saturday mornings, is the number of greasy spoon that sell Chilaquiles.
Here's what I know about chilaquiles: chilequiles are corn tortillas that have been fried (ie corn tortilla chips) then soaked in red or green sauce and unhealthfully but deliciously covered in cheese. Sometimes they are served with eggs. Sometimes they are served on their own and you ask for a side of beans -- if you must. Chilaquiles are hangover food here in Chicago...for me they are the perfect breakfast. Crunchy, savory, soft and tangy? Sounds like a dream.
My neighbors and I went to one of the local joints for breakfast a few weeks ago. I'd tell you the name but I'm terrible with names. Plus I wouldn't want to bump into you while I'm stuffing my face with chilaquiles. Here's what they served me:
Yes, that's their goose mug. Filled with Cafe con Leche.
And here's how my neighbor Mike paid:
Yes, he paid in quarters. That's what owning a washer and dryer does for you -- eliminates the need for quarters.
