I spent four amazing, mostly bone-chatteringly cold years, as an undergrad in Chicago, and even though the sound of my graduation year already makes me feel old, the memories, mostly of food, are still fresh in my memory. I returned last week for a glorious, if not completely hectic, five days in the Windy City, partly to see college friends and partly for the wedding of two dear friends, who actually were my first real friends on campus. (Thank you for being nice to dorky Archana! Just kidding. We went to Northwestern; we were all dorks.) To celebrate such an occasion, I — what else? — ate my way through the city.