If your mother was Vietnamese, she probably made pho when you were sick. If not, there’s always Hai Yen restaurant on Argyle Street in Chicago’s Uptown neighborhood serving up a feast of the senses and the seasons.
In Ron Cajigas’ workshop, anything that’s not upended is probably askew—colored vodka bottles, an old train signal with its jeweled glasses of green, red, and yellow glinting under the fluorescent light. Stuffed parrots and coffee cans share floor space with pieces of laptop and a singing Billy Bass. These are the spoils of his occupation and the raw material for his art.