Blue Door Farm Stand | Chicago, IL
Fork and Tell — up close and personal.
So, we started off with a casual friendly greeting.
We had met before.
The comfort, from the familiarity of having spent an afternoon together, allowed me to be myself.
And I loved that.
I went in with the anticipation of taking things to the next level — I was ready to taste what looks had promised.
A glow from the lights added warmth to the sun-lit foyer and within seconds, I almost forgot it was raining outside. The dining room embraced me.
Greeted by the reliably attentive hosts at Blue Door, I was looking forward to the intimate experience to come. And with the added joy of a few extra people in the mix, this was bound to be an exciting blend of preferences and experimental willingness.
I squirmed in anticipation, while blindfolded by secrecy dressed as a surprise.
Was I being strung along?
Round one cleared up any doubts — the appetizer didn’t take very long to arrive, either.
The balls of cheese looked taut and freshly warm — adorned with creamy buttermilk and pickled peppers.
I took a moment to admire the sophisticated take on a commonplace snack.
Within moments of the first bite, I was thrust into euphoria.
The playful contrast of spicy vinegar peppers on the dense fried cheese made for an explosion in my mouth.
It got wet.
A sparkle of spunk.
High in class, and served in a glass.
Mimosas flowed freely, adding social lubricant to our table’s conversation…though it wasn’t necessary.
A liquid high-five was quickly followed by a juice, ripe with green envy.
I took a sip and sank back into my chair, relieved that it went down so smoothly; no unexpected stabbing of ginger, no overpowering aggression from bitter celery.
The main event.
The first thing I saw was the tender yolk, imprisoned by its naive shell — waiting to be set free.
Tracing the natural fall of the pepper jelly, I gazed longingly at the kinky shreds of potato that were toasted together into a bed of crispy hash browns.
After undressing the yolk of its sheer cover with a fork, I brought the first of many bites to my lips.
Unexpectedly, a party of crunch, savory chew, and moist egg entered the room with heirloom tomatoes from the vine. As if meeting the pepper jelly for the first time, the various personalities hesitated to engage.
It wasn’t a disagreeable connection, but it was definitely shrouded with slight confusion and an air of mystery.
Opting to go back to the reliable, we called for Benny — plump, poached eggs, rested gently atop a handmade, honey-glazed biscuit.
The egg flirted well with the ham below.
A rich caress of the back of the tongue.
Playful sprigs of arugula, and an ever-so-slight prick of pepper.
Although not particularly unique, it was a predictable, dependable fork-ful.
The happy ending.
Breathing heavy from exhausting digestive effort, my fork-buddies and I nodded in agreement that we were fulfilled as we recovered from the debauchery.
The happy ending for a sweet-tooth like me manifested as a chocolate chip cookie and a thick decadent brownie.
One final lick of the lips, and our brunch-orgy had come to an end.
I had come with promise and left after indulgence. Although lingering on my way out…I knew I’d be back again soon.
PS. Hit that clap button below if this made you hungry…
*I was invited back to this restaurant after being a first-timer and received complimentary dishes in exchange for an intimate recap of my experience.