It's a beautiful afternoon to eat and drink outside, and I'm sitting at a picnic table hewn of haphazard and reclaimed lumber, sucking oregano-tinged honey from the webbing between my thumb and forefinger. Dogs circle the tables from below, while a swarm of flies circle metal pie plates on the tables from above. A lonely kid plays Twister by himself on a rainbow of dots painted on the concrete. Kids are everywhere, actually — it's... More >>>
Sides and a killer courtyard help Chicken Scratch overcome hit-or-miss chicken.