Bossa Nova Brunch at Firewater

FirewaterHorizbfLOWe walked through the rain Sunday morning for our appointment with breakfast. Firewater sits on the Chicago River kinda-sorta underneath the American Bar Association building.

On a nicer day, the terrace would have been the place to sit, but the long, narrow room opened to the riverwalk through large French doors, was a nice (and dry) alternative. The soft, Brasil ’66-ish music added nicely to the space and, while the tables were kind of close together, it still made for a nice choice for breakfast. I had Firewater’s signature Eggs Benedict – made with prosciutto and spinach; Rich had the brioche French toast with FirewaterBenedictbfLOberries. I have to confess I was feeling more than a bit peckish when we sat down, and so forgot to take a pic of Rich’s quite tasty French toast at all, or my own really nice breakfast choice before I had demolished one egg and velvety sauce covered egg first – OOPS! I haven’t made eggs Benedict in a while, but do happen to have a nice little hollandaise recipe, and Rich continues to believe that the best French toast MUST be made with brioche (he’s right) – so I see a couple of loaves in my future – all perfect for our next brunch, which will be – hmm, not sure, we’re kind of booked, but soon.

On our way out, after a wonderful breakfast, we overheard one urban hipster bemoaning the rain ‘well, the whole point of this place is the terrace.’ I almost interrupted to tell her that, no, the whole point of the place was good food served well; but I was too happily full to bother.VeggieZabfLO

Of course, the sun came out in the early afternoon – just in time for me to head back home to the quiet of the Northern  ‘burbs.  I’m off North this morning for a few days, so thought I’d keep my dinner for one simple – some leftover veggie ‘za from the freezer – 03bPeppersJarOilbfLOheated slowly, then topped with some also rescued from the freezer red sauce and some nice mozzarella. Sprinkled with crushed red pepper just before serving – almost better than fresh made, and it left me plenty of time to pack, toss a loaf of honey French bread in the machine, and visit with the cats after a weekend out. The bread will go well, I think, with the jar of marinated stuffed cherry peppers I’ve promised to carry North with me – one of Norma’s first questions to me when we talked about my coming up was ‘what’re you making for dinner’? Fresh French bread and tasty peppers in garlicky oil are much easier to pack than chicken in buttermilk or lemon, rosemary and onion. Hmmm, maybe for tomorrow?

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