A random act of Christkindl

Last weekend, two of my favorite adventure companions and I jumped on the El and headed to Chicago’s famous Christkindlmarket.

Unfortunately, we preceded our trip to an outdoor market full of luscious strudel, craft cheeses and fat pretzels with breakfast at Chicago’s equally famous Anne Sathers, home of the ridiculously rich cinnamon bun. Himmelherrgott!

We missed out on the delicious food because Ann Sather breakfasts generally keep us full for a couple of days or so.

But, we wanted to participate so I obediently purchased two tiny steaming mugs of mulled wine for Katherine and me, and a frothy mug of hot chocolate for my niece Erin, the only legitimate kinder among us.

Then, we wandered, poked our heads in booths featuring homemade ornaments and wooden cuckoo clocks, and did a little people watching.

Erin bought herself a wooden whistle, for which I owe her parents a sincere apology. I realized this immediately when she leaned close and delightedly blew a rough tune into my right ear drum.

I called to check in a few days later and she proudly found her whistle and played it on the phone for me again.

Es tut mir Leid.

Really.

We highly recommend a trip to the Christkindl market, a little slice of German Weihnachten in the middle of one of the coolest cities in the world.

We borrowed a kinder named Erin and brought her along. She turned out to be a perfect companion.

I don’t know what these little wooden puppets are called, but they dance when they hang from a Christmas tree and we like that.

We bought strudel for Erin’s dad to make up for the whistle she also brought home.

I love the colors of these crystal ornaments.

The detail on these wooden cuckoo clocks was very impressive.