Solutions pour temps froid

When the hawk’s blowing off the lake and the shop feels like an unheated garage, I go looking for soup. Not “crafted broths” or whatever they’re calling coolant these days — just bowls that start thick, end thicker, and maybe clear out a fuel line or two on the way down. This is the rotation I actually drive to when the fleets are behaving and I’ve got an hour to thaw out. Some are North Side, some are in the Loop, one you can hit walking from Bridgeport if you’re stubborn. They’re all the kind of places where you can sit alone, nurse a bowl, and think about that one bolt that just won’t break loose… but what do I know.