Having never been to a third world country, my ickiest meal is probably not the worst you have ever heard. Heat is in Chicago, and while it looks like a regular sushi restaurant in a bad neighborhood, there is a fundamental difference. The fish is amazingly fresh because they kill it for you right at your table. I am not kidding. This privilege costs about $400 before you even add the booze and believe me, you will be adding booze. I went to Saraga International grocery on the 38th street for soft shell crabs and miso paste hoping not to have a flashback, but luckily all the fish were pleasantly dead. Like most international groceries, the initial whiff took a bit getting used to and I shuddered at the notion of actually eating at the food court. Still, I just love looking at all the fun packaging and buying weird cookies that taste like tacos. Here I am trying to remember what that smelly fruit that was banned on public transportation in Asia looks like so I don't accidentally buy it. Vintage eyelet 1950's skirt, odile bracelet sleeve sweater with (hard to see here) white and yellow checked trim, white Target tee and flower bedecked lizard heels from Colin Stuart
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