This weekend was kind of a bummer. The glorious Fall that Chicago had just started to enjoy took a hit with some temperatures in the lower forties. Like 42 degrees. Yeah. In case you're keeping track, that's only 10 degrees above freezing and it's the first week of October. My reaction was to complain (A LOT) and then, as I do every year at the first sign of cold, go into complete panic mode and barbecue and smoke every possible item in our fridge and freezer because I know the days of outdoor cooking are quickly dwindling. Sarah (the Californian aka the person who grew up with the ability to barbecue year round) always laughs at me and equates my behavior to a squirrel storing nuts. Not the manliest of comparisons but if it means she'll cheerfully eat smoked apples in a pie (as she gamely did last year), I'll take the hit.
