Ole, ole, Ole, ole.

Hey guys, you might not have known this about me - but I am a huge soccer nerd. #sorryIamnotsorry.

You grow up with a family of Eye-talians and it is going to wear off on you.

Last time there was a world cup, I watched almost all of it while in Europe which is basically like watching the Super Bowl from inside Cowboys Stadium (not in-person, mind you, just like, on the big TV over the field).  This year will pale in comparison because I still have to go to work and the prosciutto and mozzarella cheese sandwiches will be sub-par. But my brother won't be dying, soooo win some/lose some.

Here are some important things you need to be a world cup fan. Hop on, folks, there is plenty of room on this bandwagon and it comes with an excuse to drink at 11:00 a.m. on a Tuesday!

This guide gives you all the good soccer bars in Chicago.

If you want an outdoor soccer viewing experience - U.S. Soccer is putting on a money-grabbing "free" soccer viewing party in Grant Park. I am pretty sure you can sneak booze into Grant Park, which is good because watching the U.S. get trounced by Ghana, Germany and possibly Portugal - you're gonna need it.

Also, if you want to be an educated fair weather fan, here is my favorite thing of all time - Drew Magary's Hater's Guide to the World Cup. If I had any wish in all the wishes in the wish bank, I would want my writing to sound like the love child of Drew Magary and Margaret Atwood. What a disturbed and beautiful love child my writing would be.

Soccer (although now I hang out with enough British folks I feel like I should be able to call it Football) is the best sport to watch in the summer, because its easy and you can kind of half pay attention in the sunshine over your almost-finished bloody mary, eat all the rich, European food you love and then shrug when the thing is over in a 0-0 tie and go take a nap.  The people's game!

Chubchubs gets you full on game day

This is the first year in recent history that Boyfriend and I will not be on our couch surrounded by people we are lucky enough to call our friends, getting Sunday tipsy and eating as much as possible on Super Bowl Sunday.

Instead we will be in sunny L.A. and #sorrywearenotsorry. I need to go out of this frozen barren tundra of sadness so hard. It's time. In seven years here, the only thing I have learned is that once February hits it is time to get out. BYE.

Anyway, since we won't be around to make them, here are our two favorite game day treats (one savory, one sweet):

My fave: Buffalo Cauliflower Dip (with optional upgrade to pastry wreath).

This brought me around on the cauliflower fad. Mother Thyme is the one who hooked me up with the recipe. I'm not going to bogart her page hits - so get there, and get the recipe. My notes are:

• You think you want to put the cauliflower in the food processor with your grating blade, and you can - but it is going to end up with more of a grated cheese like consistency, which is not my preference. I hand grate most of the half-head it is much smaller pieces, leaving some bigger chunks (like the size of a lemonhead or smaller) of cauliflower when my arm gets tired. It depends on how lazy you're feeling. 
• I do not know why we live in a country where greek yogurt is only available in 5.3 oz. containers or Costco-sized mega gallons. This recipe calls for 6 oz. because free market economy. The 5.3 oz version is totally fine, but if you have people who are picky about their spicy, you can either stop being friends with them (my vote), or adjust the amount of Frank's you use.
• Use Frank's. My mom tried to convince me that some sort of weird off-branded business in Maryland would be fine. But it isn't. Don't be weird or judgy. Use Franks.
• This travels really well, and lasts for days. I make it, throw it in a pyrex (still warm) with a lid and take it to where I am going. And I've been known to eat it a week later. I'm not proud.

You feelin' FANCY? Then upgrade to a Buffalo Cauliflower Crescent Ring (adapted from this Tablespoon recipe).

Just replace her chicken dip with the cauliflower dip. And bake until golden and delicious. Some notes:

• Some of the liquid will cook off (obvi) making this significantly spicier than just the dip. Adjust as needed. 
• You only need about half to three-quarters of the above recipe to fill the ring. 
• Check to make sure there are no gaps in the pastry or you will have gooey business flowing out of the ring's nether regions and the aesthetic will be ruined.
• This travels less well. This is the shelter-in-place version of this dip.

For something sweet: Boyfriend swears by these Oreo Footballs. People request them, even at parties that are in no way football related.  He uses almond-chocolate bark instead of the Baker's semi-sweet and you can't even tell.

These are food processor friendly and do not really take any time at all. When dipping into the chocolate, he prefers to dip one half of the football, let it cool, and then dip the other half. The fork dipping method is unreliable at best.

Happy Football! Now we just need a recommendation of a L.A. restaurant/bar to watch the game.

TYOE: Maryland (part 2)

More eating recommendations for any time you might spend in the Fredneck/MoCo area.

Isabella's has an amazing lunch tapas special. 3 ladies x 3 plates each = all the fried asparagus. Their plates are generous and delicious anytime but lunch seems like a no-brainer.  

Bonus points for popping into Muse, across the street, and buying a beautiful handmade stuffed animal for one of your besties, or any of their other amazing locally created trinkets and delights. 

I do not spend a ton of time in Charlestown, West Virginia but my favorite little monsters (ages 4 and 6) live there, and I have it on good authority that they are pizza experts, and they eat Papa Johns. So, clearly Papa Johns is the best in the biz, with a little Yellow Tail Shiraz blend for the grown-ups, hello Tuesday night.

Side note: this was the first time I have gotten to hang out with these kiddos in about three years, just us and not our entire enormous, loud, crazy pants family. It was so wonderful even though they are quite simply, the rottenest. 

I have a crafted a theory about the restaurants Voltaggio after having eaten at all four.

If you are looking for a fancy, lets impress everyone meal - you go to Volt. If you want to do this and have it not be an incredible strain on your wallet, you do it for brunch. 

If you are looking for a delicious dinner that will make everyone happy - you go to Family Meal. You make sure you have at least one order of duck fat fries for the table (maybe two if some people skipped lunch), and you order the fried chicken. Let your friends make their own choices, but don't mess around with this, it's fried chicken or its pack it up and go home.

If you need a sandwich, go to Lunchbox (duh). 

If you are just looking for some short eats and a craze-mazing cocktail, you go to Range. Having eaten dinner at Range, I can tell you it is not worth it. The price tag on a meal that makes you full is steep, and for the quality of food, impractical. We had some amazing bites, but that only made the bad ones all the more obvious. Get the rockfish, and the sunchokes, and anything that you can smear bacon relish on. Get a drink, be brave and order something with at least one word you don't know, and then be done.

When Congress continues to deny you buttermilk fried alligator bites, Good Stuff Eatery is getting all the sloppy seconds by way of some realdecent cheeseburgers. Get a milkshake, because you only live once. If you see Barack Obama there, tell him Rachel says hello. 

Pacifico has sangria. Apparently they have food too, but after all that cheeseburger, sangria is all you need to spend an afternoon catching up with your friend-who-is-family.

When you find out your 21 year-old sister has never eaten Greek food, lament her entire childhood being spent in Western Maryland, and then head to Ayse (pronounced Eye-shay). You must get the Brussels sprouts. This is not a negotiation. These are world champion Brussels sprouts. They are so freaking delicious. Get two, who cares, they're a mystical, magical vegetable. Then whatever other Greek food you need, which is mostly just lamb and cheese on fire.

For your final meal, you convince your Granny to take you out to lunch, and really the only acceptable place is Clyde's. Cross your fingers for seating in the hunting room and enjoy the bizarre placement of this kitschy Adirondack lodge in the middle of sterile, boring Montgomery county. Get whatever you want (a crab cake). Thank your grandmother for lunch and for telling you about all the ways you could be a better granddaughter. 

And then as you're leaving, get Chipotle at the airport, because there is a chipotle at the airport. God bless you, BWI. 

TYOE: 24 Hours in Nantucket

The human body really needs five days on Nantucket a year to function at its highest level. This year I only got four, and two of them were rainy - so I'm pretty much going to be draggin' ass for the next 12 months. Sorry Universe.

Back when I was a barefooted, dirty kid running rampant on the streets of Siasconset in search of a snickers bar before 9 a.m. there were rules about who came to Nantucket. Namely - you came with your family. End of rules. But recently the rules have been changed. I think because I'm getting to the age where I should be bringing the next generation of the family line buuuuut, instead I'm bringing my 20-something friends.

It's cool, Granny would much rather have drunken young professionals than great-grandchildren sleeping in her house. Everyone knows that.

Not everyone recognizes the five day rule, so I've managed to come up with the perfect 24 hours in Nantucket. When I am talking perfect, I am talking both controlable and non-controlable elements. Sometimes it rains. You will not have the perfect day - but you also probably won't get sand in your bathing suit. There is always a silver lining.

Here's how you do it right.

Get off the boat. Make sure your dumb friends who are meeting you don't drink too much the night before and forget how time works because the best thing about arriving on Nantucket is being waved at when the ferry is docking.

Eat some breakfast. I recommend Black-Eyed Susan's. If your human form does not allow for 45 minute waits for breakfast, I recommend Queequegs. If you're one of those "I'll just have coffee," people, head to The Bean.

Look at things in town. Some things you can look at include: stores, people, restaurant menus, fancy boats, water, bicyclists failing at cobblestones, fancy houses, the Brant Point light house, rich kids trying to sell you lemonade, aaaand all the crap in the Hospital Thrift Shop.

Get your Provisions sandwich. I don't recommend getting anything that is going to be made gross by spending a few hours in your backpack. Don't get the lobster roll. You will be the saddest.

Be up at the Visitor Center by 11:30 am so you can get that first shuttle to the brewery. If island boozing is not your thing than you can hike to Alter Rock with the rest of the 9 year olds. The Brewery is a great place to get boozy but its also just an awesme place to sit and eat a sandwich. I'm sure they have juice. Rainy day alternatives: read a book, the Whaling Museum, ice skating, taking an all-day nap.

Cisco Brewers has gotten a little high falutin' recently. But if you get there around noon, you should miss most of that. Enjoy as much brewery as you like and then take the most BOGUS EXPENSIVE CAB RIDE OF ALL TIME from the brewery to Cisco Beach. Cabs on Nantucket are proof that nothing can ever really be perfect.

$20 of bullshit later, sit on the beach, play in the ocean, take the always delightful beach nap.  Maybe you brought yourself a six pack, because you're a genius planner. Maybe you're trying to sober up a little bit because you're not 22 anymore. Whatever it is - have some perfect beach time.

Also, get in the Atlantic. It's cold, but so is your mom. Do it.

Then, get yourself back to 'Sconset. If you're super lucky, you have an amazing family who will drop everything to squire your friends around the island. If you don't have this, take anothe bogus cab ride. Sit in the back of that cab and think about capitalism.

If you're feeling like you need a Nantucket history lesson, take Polpis Road and peep Sankety light house. Make sure someone tells you about it.

Change yo' clothes (a day on Nantucket requires three outfits or you're not doing it right). Get boozy on the porch. Peep the ocean. Feel real rich. Ignore the mold. Tolerate Granecdotes* because they are the reason for the season.

Head back into town for dinner. The options change from year to year, but you cannot go wrong with Slip 14, 12 degrees East, Straight Wharf, or Cru. If you're a baller shotcaller - head to Boarding House, The Lobster Trap, or Company of the Caldron. And if you're on a budget - The Tavern, Sea Dog Brew Pub, or The Brotherhood of Thieves will feed you.

And now its time to wander around the town of Nantucket at night, stopping in bars (I'm not going to list them all, throw a stone and you'll eventually run into somewhere to serve you booze), stumbling over cobblestones, taking a trek down to Children's Beach to put your drunk toes in the water.

When you've had quite enough to drink, you finish the night with ice cream (from the Juice Bar - get a waffle cone, or you're a terrorist, btw) or pizza (from Steamboat Wharf Pizza) or both (if you're awesome). Get in one more dumb cab and stumble up the step stairs of your fishing shack. Pass out.

Wake up for a stroll to the 'Sconset Market for a pastry and a cup of coffee. Make sure you bring extra pastries for your hostess and whomever has been helping you out. No one doesn't like a 'Sconset Market blueberry muffin.

Eat breakfast on the porch. Enjoy all the people walking by who are jealous, both of your house and your pastry. Instruct them that the beach is to the right and the bluff walk is to the left.

Head back into town one last time. If you have some free minutes, you can spend them climbing the stairs of the First Congregational Church, picking up some Portugese bread from The Nantucket Bake Shop (I've already discussed my stance on this matter), get a Henry Jr's sandwich for the ride home (get it on the homemade roll, vacation is not the time or the place for whole wheat bread).

Get on the boat. Realize that you should have spent way more time on Nantucket because there was so much you didn't do! You didn't go see the airport from Wings, or rent bikes, or go to Madaket Millies for scallop quesadillas. LUCKILY, you're with a seasoned veteran, who will hand you a penny and instruct you to throw it into the harbor, just as the ferry rounds the Brant Point Lighthouse - and then you'll get to come back.

*Granecdotes are the new terminology for the amazingly hilarious, occasionally offensive, totally bizarre things that my Granny says and does. I love her so much, and without her house these 24 trips would not be possible, but she is legit old-lady-crazy.