The daily digest of Twin Cities culture | Secrets of the City

So I've done a fearless moral inventory and come to the conclusion that I am powerless. Not over alcohol, per se, but pretty much everything. The economy, fashion trends, my adult kids' lifestyle choices. And OK, maybe alcohol, too. Because get this.

For years, I've been a wine drinker. ONLY a wine drinker. And I used to say often and fiercely and with some pride, "I don't consume hard liquor. It's not healthy." Yeah, right. . . .

First of all, I swore that I would never move back home. I was city-bound and the suburbs could eat my dust, for all I cared. And I had a cute little house in Tangletown and lived a happy life with a 5-10 minute trip to an endless amount of food choices.

Funny how life gets in the way of life.

Food Heroes don't leap tall buildings in a single bound, their deeds are rather more humble. They get in the dirt when it's still frozen or wake up before the sun to hang out with the goats. They spend their summer weekends working the markets or give up holiday time to make the most of the retail flurry. They live the dream, and for a few dollars less than most of us would expect.