A local entrepreneur helps Mitt Romney conquer the web, one data point at a time.
The first time he looked at the steep, narrow lot at the end of Oregon Street that would become The Palisades of Mt. Adams, architect John Senhauser knew it would pose a challenge—and that he could meet it. “There aren’t many places in Mt. Adams where you could really do flats like this,” Senhauser sa
The Skyline Chili restaurant at Fourth and Sycamore was packed with Reds fans enjoying dinner before the team squared off with the Cleveland Indians. Even though I find sitting through nine innings something worthy of Amnesty International’s attention, I wished I was going to the game. But no, I had something even more painfu
It shocks me more than a little bit to realize that a quarter century has passed since I set off for college. It was a big deal then and—for reasons tied up with vanity and my inability to grasp how fast time truly does fly—is an even bigger deal now.
One hundred-ninety-seven. That’s the number of cookbooks I currently own. I know this exact number because I recently purchased a 6-foot by 7-foot bookcase to shelve them all.
Most anybody who walked down the main drag in Dayton, Kentucky, after a lifetime of being away would say “this place hasn’t changed much.” And that same anybody could walk right into Christofield’s Family Restaurant and find what they saw all those years ago: a long counter, swivel stools, a lot of stainless steel, the smell of coffee and chili, and the garble of conversation over issues of the day.
Don’t let the roiling stew of retail or the choked roads besieged by traffic and construction deceive you. Though Tony’s occupies a massive cinder block structure surrounded by a vast sprawl of pavement and a soulless wellspring of strip mall density, all you need to know is that once you’re through these doors, you matter.
Of all the ways a Loyola University student can blow money in Chicago, one of the best is at Carmen’s Pizza on North Sheridan Road. Located just across from the main campus, their stuffed pizza features a tsunami of über-gooey cheese and “toppings” pressure-sealed between two flaky layers of ultra-buttery crust and finished off with a bold, chunky, house-made sauce. It’s pricey, it takes forever, it’s laughably fattening, and it is damned tasty.