Name the resaurant that serves the dish in the picture and enter a drawing to win a $50 gift certificate to the restaurant.

On May 5, from 4-6PM, in Austin Gardens (167 Forest Ave., Oak Park) professional urban forager Nance Klehm will lead an edible plant foraging expedition. 

Before there was a Cordon Bleu or a Kendall College, chefs learned their craft by watching others and, when they'd gained the basic skills, jumping in under a professional eye and taking guidance. 

For the past three years, I've been judging Baconfest, a day-long celebration of the pig's tasty belly. Started in Chicago in 2009 by my friend Seth Zurer, thousands of tickets sell out in hours and Baconfest is now branching out to Washington DC and San Francisco. Since its inception, Baconfest has donated $130,000 – and a huge quantity of donated food – to the Chicago Food Depository. 

Ever wonder how clean one of your favorite local restaurant is? Well, below is a list of 10 that the Oak Park Department of Public Health and Board of Health recognized for their food service sanitation efforts.

Can there be any conceivable justification for this aesthetically offensive and clearly unhygienic practice? I'm not saying finger-lickers should be banned from restaurants or have their offending tongues and fingers cut off. That would, perhaps, be going too far. But somebody has to bring it to the attention of these slack-jawed knuckleheads that their behavior does not please me.

Too many people take too many things too seriously. It's supposed to be fun.

Outside Siena is Spannochia, a farm that, among other things, raises Cinta Senese pigs, so called because they have a white "belt" (in Italian, cintura) around their mid-section, and they come from around Siena (thus Senese).

The mystery restaurant in this month's Name That Restaurant game is Autre Monde, and the featured dish is gnocchi with duck sausage.

I've just a few distinct taste memories from when I was in single digits, and one of those increasingly foggy recollections is most definitely of the olive oil my Genovese granny would sprinkle on bread, eggs and pizza (she called it "pizza," but it was more like what we'd call "foccacia").