On the Milwaukee lakefront. A couple hours of perfect bliss on a beautiful summer evening in Milwaukee. Here’s what I ate. (Photos courtesy of our cell phones, but a visual’s a visual.)
I shared this sandwich with my dad, but I got all the peppers. The picture is shitty, but you might be able to tell that the bun was really quite good.
Not a sincere smile in the group, but that’s just because the toasted ravioli was too good for us to want to be bothered for a photo break.
After that, I partook of my sister’s calzone (cheese and spinach), and then we had these parmesan potato chips:
I was very enthusiastic about the Amaretto Puffs:
That custardy cream sauce was quite tasty, but I wish the amaretto had been more apparent in these little lumps of fried dough.
For our second and final dessert (we didn’t have room for the rice balls, after all) we had these pretty sorbetti in frozen hollowed lemons and peaches.
To top it all off, we carried a bag of Koepsell’s away with us. My dad swears this is the best popcorn in the world, and he even sends me their jars of kernels and their coconut oil when I’m at school.
This is exactly the meaning of a festival. Feasting. (The words are pretty closely related, etymologically.) I love taking a day and stepping outside of all health-related dietary considerations, to celebrate. What was I celebrating to-day? Well, being Italian, of course, and being back in Milwaukee! It’s beautiful.
I know I’m being abominably slow for the summertime, but I haven’t actually been posting nothing, I’ve just been posting elsewhere a bit. Please see the combined effort of Miles and me (Maggie, whose idea the thing was, still hasn’t gotten around to it…) for fun summer stories:
