The sun isn’t even up yet, but bleary eyed as I feel, I am boarding the train.  In moments, it whisks me away from all things urban and fast paced.  As I am speeding through miles of green pastures and small villages, my excitement builds.  Somewhere out there, on the other side of the farmlands, is the hill that sparkles.  There is only one thing in the world, really, that would motivate me to get up on the wrong side of the crack of dawn and ride the train into the middle of nowhere.  I am going to drink bubbly today.

Franken's (Photo by Gourmet Rambler)

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“Why can’t meatloaf be pretty?” inquires Cynthia Kallile, the owner of Chicago’s own The Meatloaf Bakery, the only place around serving beautiful cupcakes and pastries made out of, well, meatloaf.  I stand there, speechless, pondering the question.  There is a plate of gorgeous savory bites in front of me that seems to be asking the same thing.  Meatloaf?  Pretty?  Why not?!  Granted, those two words never go together.  I happen to love meatloaf, it is the ultimate comfort food for me.  It brings memories of carefree childhood days and cozy evenings spent at home in chilly Novembers gone by.  But pretty?  Meatloaf, tasty as it may be, is never pretty.  As I feast on several different varieties of Loafies (two-bite treats unique to The Meatloaf Bakery), created with love and dressed up for the occasion, I look over the glass case full of pretty.

Glass Case Full of Pretty (Photo by Gourmet Rambler)

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