This past Saturday, friends and I ate over at Luna, a restaurant located at 116 North Chestnut Street, across the street from the Illinois Terminal.

The decor is well done, and seems quite posh. The windows make the place very well lit up, which I liked. They also had a bar with what appeared to be a formidable selection of drinks. The chairs were a bit weird, as they “grabbed” you as you sat down.

On weekends they have a separate brunch menu, which we tried. They also have a number of vegetarian dishes, so the place should accommodate any eater. I ate Italian sausage & bacon gravy with egg on top of a Roesti, which is essentially a large fried potato cake. The gravy was excellent and the entire dish was quite yummy.

The place might not be best for most people with college budgets, but from my experience, brunch places tend to be on the pricier side anyway. Although this is my first time dining here, I enjoyed it very much and may come again.

I approve.

So my friend Bretto was kind enough to take me to the store so I could pick up a couple of things Sunday noon. It was overcast and raining lightly. Once we arrived, we happened to see a goose sitting in some mulch by one of the parking curbs.

“Dude, that’s a goose nest.”

I thought he was crazy, and assumed the goose was simply resting.

“Look, the nest is all nest-like. We should go over there and steal it’s eggs.”

Having said that in the usual half-joking, half-crazy way, I didn’t think much of it, and we walked into the store. I picked up my things, and we made our way out back to the car.

“We should go back and check it out.”

He drove the car to where the goose was, within 10 feet of it. Upon closer inspection, the mulch around the goose was indeed very “nest-like,” and the goose was eying us warily.

“I’m gonna go get an egg!”

Having been chased around by angry geese before, I was not eager to relive the experience in front of a supermarket. I decided to hold my stuff and and stay in my seat. Bretto stepped out from the driver’s seat, and made his way towards the goose. The goose started craning it’s neck up and squawked. Nevertheless, Bretto with his special “shoo shoo” technique, was able to get the goose to step away from the nest, as it hissed at us. And what do you know, there were four white eggs in the mound. Brett grabs one, steps back into the car, hands me the egg, and we drive off. With the goose staring back at us.

Moments later, I realized the magnitude of what we have just done. We just stole an egg from a goose. And I was holding it. We rode back home, pretty much laughing the whole time. We met up with other friends and we fried and ate it. Yes.

Tastes like a chicken egg, but the yolk wasn’t as strongly flavored. It was pretty giant though.