Tour of Romandie Results
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Swiss rookie Kueng rides solo to win Tour of Romandie stage
Swiss rookie Stefan Kueng rides solo to win Tour of Romandie 4th stage; Albasini leads overall
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Chicago Desserts to Eat Before Beach Season Starts
Every year, we think downing green juices in May will result in shorts-ready legs by June. Denial is a hard thing to overcome. Even harder, though, is overcoming those nightly sugar binges and regular chocolate cravings. Although many of you may be trading in cookies for kale over the next few weeks, these desserts around the city are too good to give up just because it's beach season. Maybe that green juice will cancel out the cookie... and the ice cream... and the cake.
S'mores from The Brass Monkey
401 N. Morgan St.
It's hard to find a more quintessential summertime dessert than s'mores. Although the classic Hershey bar and graham usually can't be beat, this dish from The Brass Monkey had us questioning the campfire version. The graham cracker brownie base and toasted marshmallows are elevated even further with the addition of cinnamon ice cream. It's the spicy upgrade you never knew you wanted.
Dark chocolate, sea salt cookie at Beatrix
519 N. Clark St.
Don't be mistaken: These are anything but basic chocolate chip cookies. These are the cookies you'll end up craving all the time, in the middle of the night when Beatrix has long since closed its doors. These cookies, filled with the best-quality dark chocolate chunks and topped with fresh sea salt, are arguably Lettuce Entertain You's (they're also available at Summer House Santa Monica) best dessert to date.
Cookie Dough from Dusek's
1227 W. 18th St.
As a little kid, did you ever eat the premade, refrigerated cookie dough right out of the plastic package? Well, this is nothing like that. It's actually so much better. This deconstructed cookie dough dish features decadent chocolate chips, homemade egg custard ice cream, fresh mint, and cookie powder. It's definitely big enough to share, but take our advice: get your own.
Frosted sugar cookie from Sweet Mandy B's
1208 W. Webster Ave.
The old fashioned bakery counter at Sweet Mandy B's is beautiful and nostalgic. The interior is light and fresh, and there are dozens of desserts on display, ranging from cakes and cookies to puddings and pies. Having tried almost every offering (seriously), I can confidently say that the dessert I come back to again and again is the frosted sugar cookie. You may have to fight the kid in line behind you for the last one, though; they regularly run out of this fan favorite.
Ice cream from Annette's
924 W. Armitage Ave.
I was going to list a few specific flavors of Annette's famous ice cream, but the truth is, every flavor is as good as the next. And much to the dismay of healthy eaters, this hole-in-the-wall (literally, there is no door) is only open for the summer season. Since you only have a few short months to take advantage of their scoops, it's probably best you visit as often as possible.
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S'mores from The Brass Monkey
401 N. Morgan St.
It's hard to find a more quintessential summertime dessert than s'mores. Although the classic Hershey bar and graham usually can't be beat, this dish from The Brass Monkey had us questioning the campfire version. The graham cracker brownie base and toasted marshmallows are elevated even further with the addition of cinnamon ice cream. It's the spicy upgrade you never knew you wanted.
Dark chocolate, sea salt cookie at Beatrix
519 N. Clark St.
Don't be mistaken: These are anything but basic chocolate chip cookies. These are the cookies you'll end up craving all the time, in the middle of the night when Beatrix has long since closed its doors. These cookies, filled with the best-quality dark chocolate chunks and topped with fresh sea salt, are arguably Lettuce Entertain You's (they're also available at Summer House Santa Monica) best dessert to date.
Cookie Dough from Dusek's
1227 W. 18th St.
As a little kid, did you ever eat the premade, refrigerated cookie dough right out of the plastic package? Well, this is nothing like that. It's actually so much better. This deconstructed cookie dough dish features decadent chocolate chips, homemade egg custard ice cream, fresh mint, and cookie powder. It's definitely big enough to share, but take our advice: get your own.
Frosted sugar cookie from Sweet Mandy B's
1208 W. Webster Ave.
The old fashioned bakery counter at Sweet Mandy B's is beautiful and nostalgic. The interior is light and fresh, and there are dozens of desserts on display, ranging from cakes and cookies to puddings and pies. Having tried almost every offering (seriously), I can confidently say that the dessert I come back to again and again is the frosted sugar cookie. You may have to fight the kid in line behind you for the last one, though; they regularly run out of this fan favorite.
Ice cream from Annette's
924 W. Armitage Ave.
I was going to list a few specific flavors of Annette's famous ice cream, but the truth is, every flavor is as good as the next. And much to the dismay of healthy eaters, this hole-in-the-wall (literally, there is no door) is only open for the summer season. Since you only have a few short months to take advantage of their scoops, it's probably best you visit as often as possible.
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5 of the Best Brunch Locations in Illinois
Chicago is the number one brunch city in the U.S., and the Chicago Tribune reports that Google Trends data shows Illinois as a whole is one of the top 10 most brunch-friendly states in the country.
The history of the breakfast/lunch meal began in 1896 in Pennsylvania, says the Tribune. The blog First We Feast says modern brunch began in the 1980s among people with free time and disposable income, but the staples of the meal have remained mostly the same over time: eggs, toast and "bacon, bacon and more bacon."
Brunch spots might be a dime a dozen in Chicago, but there are good places to chow down on fluffy pancakes and egg-and-hash-brown skillets throughout the rest of the state, too.
According to UrbanSpoon rankings, here are five of the best breakfast/brunch places in Illinois outside of Chicago:
Otto's Place, Galena
Yelp user Carl P.: The food was well worth the wait. My wife had the bacon, apple, and Gorgonzola omelet special that was moist and tasty and I had the egg tacos which were also great. We shared the banana bread french toast as well to top off the meal. All the food was served quickly and the service was friendly and prompt.
Teaspoons Cafe, Edwardsville
Yelp user Kara M.: Great place to meet for breakfast or lunch. I LOVE their Moroccan mint tea! If you're there for breakfast, try the breakfast burrito...It's amazing and the green chili sauce is so good. The quiche is always so good and you can't go wrong with their pancakes. If you're there for lunch, the salads are so fresh and the dressings homemade. The homemade soups are always delicious as well.
Longbranch Cafe and Bakery, Carbondale
From Yelp user Aaron D.: This place feels like home. Very good for sharing a meal, or just sitting and having a coffee. I recommend the "Cuban Coffee" and a "Fried Egg Sammy."
The other thing I really appreciate is that it is very tasty, while being a vegetarian place. I'm not a vegetarian, but everything I tried on the menu was delicious, even with the "tofu bacon."
Harbaughs Cafe, Carbondale
From Yelp user Katelyn M.: The best breakfast spot in all of Southern Illinois, hands down! If you decide to go on the weekends, be prepared to wait outside, because this place fills up quick....
My favorite thing to get there is the multigrain pancake - it has a great cinnamon and nutmeg taste to it. Plus, it's the size of your head! Also, you CANNOT miss out on the ranch potatoes. Those things go great with anything you order there.
La Rancherita Incorporated, Rock Island
From Yelp user Nick B.: Great breakfast place. The Chorizo and Eggs are an absolute steal at 5.95. The portion is huge and they taste amazing. Steak burritos you can't go wrong with and the guacamole is the best in the QC.
Check out 10 more of the best Illinois brunch places outside of Chicago at Reboot Illinois.
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The history of the breakfast/lunch meal began in 1896 in Pennsylvania, says the Tribune. The blog First We Feast says modern brunch began in the 1980s among people with free time and disposable income, but the staples of the meal have remained mostly the same over time: eggs, toast and "bacon, bacon and more bacon."
Brunch spots might be a dime a dozen in Chicago, but there are good places to chow down on fluffy pancakes and egg-and-hash-brown skillets throughout the rest of the state, too.
According to UrbanSpoon rankings, here are five of the best breakfast/brunch places in Illinois outside of Chicago:
Otto's Place, Galena
Yelp user Carl P.: The food was well worth the wait. My wife had the bacon, apple, and Gorgonzola omelet special that was moist and tasty and I had the egg tacos which were also great. We shared the banana bread french toast as well to top off the meal. All the food was served quickly and the service was friendly and prompt.
Teaspoons Cafe, Edwardsville
Yelp user Kara M.: Great place to meet for breakfast or lunch. I LOVE their Moroccan mint tea! If you're there for breakfast, try the breakfast burrito...It's amazing and the green chili sauce is so good. The quiche is always so good and you can't go wrong with their pancakes. If you're there for lunch, the salads are so fresh and the dressings homemade. The homemade soups are always delicious as well.
Longbranch Cafe and Bakery, Carbondale
From Yelp user Aaron D.: This place feels like home. Very good for sharing a meal, or just sitting and having a coffee. I recommend the "Cuban Coffee" and a "Fried Egg Sammy."
The other thing I really appreciate is that it is very tasty, while being a vegetarian place. I'm not a vegetarian, but everything I tried on the menu was delicious, even with the "tofu bacon."
Harbaughs Cafe, Carbondale
From Yelp user Katelyn M.: The best breakfast spot in all of Southern Illinois, hands down! If you decide to go on the weekends, be prepared to wait outside, because this place fills up quick....
My favorite thing to get there is the multigrain pancake - it has a great cinnamon and nutmeg taste to it. Plus, it's the size of your head! Also, you CANNOT miss out on the ranch potatoes. Those things go great with anything you order there.
La Rancherita Incorporated, Rock Island
From Yelp user Nick B.: Great breakfast place. The Chorizo and Eggs are an absolute steal at 5.95. The portion is huge and they taste amazing. Steak burritos you can't go wrong with and the guacamole is the best in the QC.
Check out 10 more of the best Illinois brunch places outside of Chicago at Reboot Illinois.
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Prom Dress Shopping With Two Months to Live
It would be maroon, my favorite color. Maroon with spaghetti straps and a cowl neckline that made it look like I had cleavage. Maybe a bow... No, not a bow. A ruffle. Crap, I messed up. I scribbled over my drawing with blue pen and sketched a new dress. This one had a ruffle.
"Your paper on The Awakening is due on Friday," Mr. Minor announced. Everyone began to put their books in their bags. "Hey! The bell hasn't rung yet. You still have five full minutes. Don't pack up."
I added strappy platform sandals and a necklace to go with my dress. Writing that paper was going to suck. I'd only read half the book, even though AP English was my favorite subject and I loved flamboyant Mr. Minor. But lately, with all the stuff with my mom, it had been hard to focus on some feminist novel from a million years ago.
Then again, it was hard to focus on anything that day. I was going prom dress shopping after school.
Mom had suggested it over the weekend. I was running out the door to my best friend Laura's house when she said it: "Daddy and I want to take you prom dress shopping."
I looked down at my car keys, swinging from their red lanyard. It was February. No one goes prom dress shopping in February. But when everyone went in March and April, she'd be dead.
"OK," I said slowly. Then, for her sake, "Sounds good."
"Oh, good!" she chirped. "I'm so excited. I think we should try Ask Alice first, since that's where we found such pretty dresses last --"
"OK, Mom," I said, suddenly unable to fake it anymore. "I gotta go."
"Oh, all right sweetheart," I heard her say, a bit bewildered, as I slammed the door behind me and drove off.
The bell rang, and I stirred from the memory. Everyone grabbed their bags and rushed from the classroom, but I packed up slowly. My mom has cancer. Could I say that to Mr. Minor? None of my teachers knew.
"Have you heard from any schools yet?" he asked.
"Just Binghamton and Penn State so far."
"You won't have any problem," he reassured me, so proud that I wanted to study writing. "Keep me updated."
On the drive home I blasted my new favorite band, At the Drive-In, and sang so loud that it sounded like a sob: March 23rd hushed the wind, the music died. If you can't get the best of us now, it's 'cause this is forever. "This is forever"—those words stabbed straight through my heart. Denial can only distract you to a certain degree. Underneath it all, you know exactly what's going on, and that it's not going away.
When I was a block away from my house I lowered the music. It somehow seemed disrespectful to my mom, who'd been home all day instead of teaching. Guilt twisted my guts that I'd been able to escape to school while she'd been forced to retire from hers.
A Baby Story was on TV and the kitchen smelled like toast and jelly when I walked in. Instead of her usual pajamas, Mom was dressed in Gap overalls and a striped thermal shirt. Lilac eye shadow made her green eyes dance. She looked pretty. When she came over, I didn't flinch, like I'd been doing lately. Still wearing my coat and my messenger bag, I just hugged her and let my eyes well up with tears. I blinked quickly before she noticed.
"How was your day, honey?" She sat at the kitchen table, waiting for me to join her. I could tell she hoped that we'd chit-chat until Dad got home and we left to go dress shopping. That's what we would have done before all this.
"Good." I said, hanging back near the fridge. "What did you do all day?"
"Oh, I read my book and watched some TV. A Wedding Story was on before this. It was a good one. The guy was a pilot and the girl was a stewardess and he proposed while they were almost in a plane crash."
"Wow," I said half-heartedly, worried she'd change the topic and talk about being sick. I inched backwards toward the staircase that led to my bedroom. "I'm gonna do some homework before we go."
When Dad came home from work, I tied my sneakers quickly, worried that if I was late that would give him yet another reason to be mad at me -- the way he had been ever since Mom got sick. He wanted me to be there for her, and I just... couldn't. But when I rushed downstairs, he greeted me playfully: "Monkey!" I was relieved. Especially on prom dress shopping day, I just wanted the three of us to get along, like old times. Even if we were pretending.
In the car, Mom complained that the seat hurt her back while Dad tried to steer with one hand and massage her neck with the other. I gazed out the window, telling myself it wasn't really February. The fact that we were going prom dress shopping so early didn't mean anything, right?
We parked and went inside. Racks of dresses filled the tiny store.
"Ooh, Missy! Look at this one." Mom pointed at a steel gray gown with iridescent sequins. It wasn't maroon.
"I'll try it on," I started to say as she shoved the dress into my arms. She scoped out the sales rack while I browsed by myself, choosing a Betsey Johnson ruffled party dress, a glamorous red satin sheath, and a maroon and black lace gown. The hangers began to bruise my knuckles, and I headed for the fitting room.
I tried on the gray dress first. She'd be hurt if I didn't. Stepping into it, I watched the bottom swirl out like a Cinderella gown. When I emerged, Mom and Dad's faces lit up. "Oh, Missy, you look beautiful," Mom gushed. "Very pretty," Dad agreed. I looked in the mirror. Fluorescent light bounced off the sequins, making the dress sparkle as I turned. It was pretty, in a fairytale kind of way.
I slipped on the other dresses, but even the maroon and black lace dress didn't quite match the dress I'd drawn in my notebook.
"So?" Mom asked, bright-eyed. "What do you think?"
I put on the gray gown again. The saleswoman brought over matching earrings and necklaces and a pair of heels. I pictured myself stepping out of the limo, reaching for my boyfriend's hand. Mom wasn't there, but I was wearing the dress she picked out, and that mattered.
"OK," I said. "I'm gonna get it."
Mom and Dad took the dress to the register while I pulled on my jeans and hoodie. I knew if we had longer, we would have searched every store until I found the perfect dress like the one I'd envisioned. We'd shop at Jessica McClintock, Macy's, Bloomingdale's...
I shook myself from the daydream. It couldn't be that way, and it was stupid to wish. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
At home, I headed straight to my room and called Laura.
"Ohmygod, how was it? Did you get a dress? Is it maroon?"
* * *
More than a decade later, Laura will accompany me to dozens of bridal stores as we shop for my wedding dress. And it will only be on those trips, as my heart breaks with longing for my mother, that I will truly understand my mom's sacrifice. That despite her illness, she made something as minuscule and monumental as a prom dress into a revered mother-daughter rite of passage. And with that, she taught me how to march on, even when the situation isn't what you had planned. How to make it beautiful anyway.
Essay by Marisa Bardach Ramel excerpted with permission from Chicken Soup for the Soul: Thanks to My Mom (Chicken Soup for the Soul, March 2015).
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"Your paper on The Awakening is due on Friday," Mr. Minor announced. Everyone began to put their books in their bags. "Hey! The bell hasn't rung yet. You still have five full minutes. Don't pack up."
I added strappy platform sandals and a necklace to go with my dress. Writing that paper was going to suck. I'd only read half the book, even though AP English was my favorite subject and I loved flamboyant Mr. Minor. But lately, with all the stuff with my mom, it had been hard to focus on some feminist novel from a million years ago.
Then again, it was hard to focus on anything that day. I was going prom dress shopping after school.
Mom had suggested it over the weekend. I was running out the door to my best friend Laura's house when she said it: "Daddy and I want to take you prom dress shopping."
I looked down at my car keys, swinging from their red lanyard. It was February. No one goes prom dress shopping in February. But when everyone went in March and April, she'd be dead.
"OK," I said slowly. Then, for her sake, "Sounds good."
"Oh, good!" she chirped. "I'm so excited. I think we should try Ask Alice first, since that's where we found such pretty dresses last --"
"OK, Mom," I said, suddenly unable to fake it anymore. "I gotta go."
"Oh, all right sweetheart," I heard her say, a bit bewildered, as I slammed the door behind me and drove off.
The bell rang, and I stirred from the memory. Everyone grabbed their bags and rushed from the classroom, but I packed up slowly. My mom has cancer. Could I say that to Mr. Minor? None of my teachers knew.
"Have you heard from any schools yet?" he asked.
"Just Binghamton and Penn State so far."
"You won't have any problem," he reassured me, so proud that I wanted to study writing. "Keep me updated."
On the drive home I blasted my new favorite band, At the Drive-In, and sang so loud that it sounded like a sob: March 23rd hushed the wind, the music died. If you can't get the best of us now, it's 'cause this is forever. "This is forever"—those words stabbed straight through my heart. Denial can only distract you to a certain degree. Underneath it all, you know exactly what's going on, and that it's not going away.
When I was a block away from my house I lowered the music. It somehow seemed disrespectful to my mom, who'd been home all day instead of teaching. Guilt twisted my guts that I'd been able to escape to school while she'd been forced to retire from hers.
A Baby Story was on TV and the kitchen smelled like toast and jelly when I walked in. Instead of her usual pajamas, Mom was dressed in Gap overalls and a striped thermal shirt. Lilac eye shadow made her green eyes dance. She looked pretty. When she came over, I didn't flinch, like I'd been doing lately. Still wearing my coat and my messenger bag, I just hugged her and let my eyes well up with tears. I blinked quickly before she noticed.
"How was your day, honey?" She sat at the kitchen table, waiting for me to join her. I could tell she hoped that we'd chit-chat until Dad got home and we left to go dress shopping. That's what we would have done before all this.
"Good." I said, hanging back near the fridge. "What did you do all day?"
"Oh, I read my book and watched some TV. A Wedding Story was on before this. It was a good one. The guy was a pilot and the girl was a stewardess and he proposed while they were almost in a plane crash."
"Wow," I said half-heartedly, worried she'd change the topic and talk about being sick. I inched backwards toward the staircase that led to my bedroom. "I'm gonna do some homework before we go."
When Dad came home from work, I tied my sneakers quickly, worried that if I was late that would give him yet another reason to be mad at me -- the way he had been ever since Mom got sick. He wanted me to be there for her, and I just... couldn't. But when I rushed downstairs, he greeted me playfully: "Monkey!" I was relieved. Especially on prom dress shopping day, I just wanted the three of us to get along, like old times. Even if we were pretending.
In the car, Mom complained that the seat hurt her back while Dad tried to steer with one hand and massage her neck with the other. I gazed out the window, telling myself it wasn't really February. The fact that we were going prom dress shopping so early didn't mean anything, right?
We parked and went inside. Racks of dresses filled the tiny store.
"Ooh, Missy! Look at this one." Mom pointed at a steel gray gown with iridescent sequins. It wasn't maroon.
"I'll try it on," I started to say as she shoved the dress into my arms. She scoped out the sales rack while I browsed by myself, choosing a Betsey Johnson ruffled party dress, a glamorous red satin sheath, and a maroon and black lace gown. The hangers began to bruise my knuckles, and I headed for the fitting room.
I tried on the gray dress first. She'd be hurt if I didn't. Stepping into it, I watched the bottom swirl out like a Cinderella gown. When I emerged, Mom and Dad's faces lit up. "Oh, Missy, you look beautiful," Mom gushed. "Very pretty," Dad agreed. I looked in the mirror. Fluorescent light bounced off the sequins, making the dress sparkle as I turned. It was pretty, in a fairytale kind of way.
I slipped on the other dresses, but even the maroon and black lace dress didn't quite match the dress I'd drawn in my notebook.
"So?" Mom asked, bright-eyed. "What do you think?"
I put on the gray gown again. The saleswoman brought over matching earrings and necklaces and a pair of heels. I pictured myself stepping out of the limo, reaching for my boyfriend's hand. Mom wasn't there, but I was wearing the dress she picked out, and that mattered.
"OK," I said. "I'm gonna get it."
Mom and Dad took the dress to the register while I pulled on my jeans and hoodie. I knew if we had longer, we would have searched every store until I found the perfect dress like the one I'd envisioned. We'd shop at Jessica McClintock, Macy's, Bloomingdale's...
I shook myself from the daydream. It couldn't be that way, and it was stupid to wish. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
At home, I headed straight to my room and called Laura.
"Ohmygod, how was it? Did you get a dress? Is it maroon?"
More than a decade later, Laura will accompany me to dozens of bridal stores as we shop for my wedding dress. And it will only be on those trips, as my heart breaks with longing for my mother, that I will truly understand my mom's sacrifice. That despite her illness, she made something as minuscule and monumental as a prom dress into a revered mother-daughter rite of passage. And with that, she taught me how to march on, even when the situation isn't what you had planned. How to make it beautiful anyway.
Essay by Marisa Bardach Ramel excerpted with permission from Chicken Soup for the Soul: Thanks to My Mom (Chicken Soup for the Soul, March 2015).
-- This feed and its contents are the property of The Huffington Post, and use is subject to our terms. It may be used for personal consumption, but may not be distributed on a website.
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We All Know That Person Who Can't Stop Talking About Their 'Crazy Night'
We clearly need to raise our "crazy" standards.
Realistically, there are very few nights that any of us have that are truly crazy. Yeah, you might have gotten stuck in the rain or left your credit card at a bar, but that doesn't make it "crazy." And it certainly doesn't warrant the very animated and elaborate story you tell your friends the next day.
CollegeHumor has the video that you must show all your friends who are constantly squawking about how crazy things got last night, when it was more likely that they were just inconvenienced or got super drunk and don't remember what happened.
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Realistically, there are very few nights that any of us have that are truly crazy. Yeah, you might have gotten stuck in the rain or left your credit card at a bar, but that doesn't make it "crazy." And it certainly doesn't warrant the very animated and elaborate story you tell your friends the next day.
CollegeHumor has the video that you must show all your friends who are constantly squawking about how crazy things got last night, when it was more likely that they were just inconvenienced or got super drunk and don't remember what happened.
Follow Huffington Post's board LOL onPinterest.
-- This feed and its contents are the property of The Huffington Post, and use is subject to our terms. It may be used for personal consumption, but may not be distributed on a website.
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Meet Will Allen, The Urban Farmer Starting His Own Revolution
When you think of farming towns, Milwaukee-proper might not be the first to come to mind. The large Wisconsin city is perhaps better known for its famed breweries and picturesque location along Lake Michigan, but one resident there has been on a mission to make farming more accessible even within the city limits.
Will Allen is a former professional athlete who played basketball throughout college at the University of Miami and post-college in Belgium. Though he has also held jobs in corporate America, Allen has spent the last 21 years in a completely different profession: urban farmer.
As the founder of Growing Power, Allen oversees his urban farms and teaches people in urban Milwaukee how to grow not just food, but good food. The organization's sustainable farm features multiple greenhouses, indoor and outdoor gardens, crops and animals such as goats and chickens. Growing Power also hosts workshops and outreach programs, and distributes its produce, meats and products throughout the city, making a big impact the lives of many.
"We're only six blocks away from Milwaukee's largest public housing project," Allen says. "When people drive by the street and they see the greenhouses on the front, they have no idea that we feed about 10,000 people just from this farm alone."
In particular, Allen enjoys working with area youth. The work that he and the children do, he explains, isn't just about farming; it's about life.
"It's way more than just putting a plant in the ground," Allen says. "It's about learning some life skills in terms of how to take care of yourself, how to take care of your body, how to be able to work in this environment. It's about learning how to eat healthy, to be able to build things by doing something hands-on."
And for many of the children, these urban farms have become a haven of sorts from the chaos of their everyday lives. It's a place where they feel safe, and are encouraged to learn, grow and even find a sense of inner peace.
"Kids that come in here, they're wired and they're bouncing off the walls. But as soon as I put some soil in their hands, they just calm down," Allen says. "There's something very spiritual about touching the soil."
The nourishment of working with soil, which Growing Power grows itself through vermicomposting, is something that feeds Allen's soul as well. "When I touch the soil, I actually feel good. I feel something," he says. "If you have fertile soil, then your food is going to taste good, and that's one of the joys of life."
By far, being an urban farmer is the most challenging and rewarding job Allen says he's ever had.
"I was meant to do this," he says. "To be a farmer, you definitely have to have tremendous faith and trust that something good is going to come."
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Will Allen is a former professional athlete who played basketball throughout college at the University of Miami and post-college in Belgium. Though he has also held jobs in corporate America, Allen has spent the last 21 years in a completely different profession: urban farmer.
As the founder of Growing Power, Allen oversees his urban farms and teaches people in urban Milwaukee how to grow not just food, but good food. The organization's sustainable farm features multiple greenhouses, indoor and outdoor gardens, crops and animals such as goats and chickens. Growing Power also hosts workshops and outreach programs, and distributes its produce, meats and products throughout the city, making a big impact the lives of many.
"We're only six blocks away from Milwaukee's largest public housing project," Allen says. "When people drive by the street and they see the greenhouses on the front, they have no idea that we feed about 10,000 people just from this farm alone."
In particular, Allen enjoys working with area youth. The work that he and the children do, he explains, isn't just about farming; it's about life.
"It's way more than just putting a plant in the ground," Allen says. "It's about learning some life skills in terms of how to take care of yourself, how to take care of your body, how to be able to work in this environment. It's about learning how to eat healthy, to be able to build things by doing something hands-on."
And for many of the children, these urban farms have become a haven of sorts from the chaos of their everyday lives. It's a place where they feel safe, and are encouraged to learn, grow and even find a sense of inner peace.
"Kids that come in here, they're wired and they're bouncing off the walls. But as soon as I put some soil in their hands, they just calm down," Allen says. "There's something very spiritual about touching the soil."
The nourishment of working with soil, which Growing Power grows itself through vermicomposting, is something that feeds Allen's soul as well. "When I touch the soil, I actually feel good. I feel something," he says. "If you have fertile soil, then your food is going to taste good, and that's one of the joys of life."
By far, being an urban farmer is the most challenging and rewarding job Allen says he's ever had.
"I was meant to do this," he says. "To be a farmer, you definitely have to have tremendous faith and trust that something good is going to come."
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