Category: Chicago, Illinois

Anna and I shared our restaurant wish list with each other a few days before I was scheduled to fly to Chicago. I had told her that I was okay with ethnic and cheap with the exception of paying a visit to the city’s West Town neighborhood to dine at Publican, which recently earned its 2009 James Beard nomination for outstanding chef and restaurant design. A chef friend, who I met at the Spotted Pig’s Fergus Henderson event last year, had texted me earlier in the week to let me know that one of the waiters he had befriended during a recent visit to Chicago had told him about Publican’s latest efforts. I knew nothing of the restaurant because their Web site still wasn’t up before I visited, but I was ready to be impressed.

I told our waiter as much after we were seated next to the bar. It wasn’t a private table per se because the restaurant is spacious with communal tables and lofty ceilings, but being next to the kitchen kind of gave it some cachet. I requested for bar seating at the time of my reservation, but I had no idea I was actually going to be able to face my dining companions and enjoy a group conversation.

The funny thing is that I was psyched and prepared to eat all the offal offerings as soon as I glazed over the menu, but our waiter didn’t hear half of our initial order. We knew it wasn’t neglect on his part because we practically read the entire menu out loud to him. In the end, we got the right amount of food for four and I have to say that he narrowed everything down to showcase what Publican was trying to present.

The tied Monterey Bay sardines were bony but rewarding to pick on because of the dressing that came with it: yogurt, raisins and pine nuts. I want to be on the Mediterranean the next time I eat something like that with a plate of the same yellowtail crudo sprinkled with orange peel. We ordered the spicy pork rinds just like everyone else in the restaurant. They were airy and light with just a subtle hint of smoked paprika on them. We also shared one of the best charcuterie plates I’ve had in a while: scrapple, duck and foie gras terrine, pork pie and chorizo served with assorted pickles, capers and mustards. (Don’t get me started with wine bars calling a plate of just prosciutto “charcuterie special”.) The Basque stew of salt cod, shrimp, octopus, clams and mussels did not skimp on the broth’s flavor. I think we all felt bad that we had to share such a scrumptious bowl of goodness. A plate of sunchokes rounded out our meal with local Matilda Goose Island beers, a glass of rosé and a glass of port.

The homeyness and hospitality of Publican and its staff coupled with the company of good eaters and sharers made up for my missing the beef’s heart. I’ll definitely make the same trip again.

Publican is at 837 on West Fulton Market in Chicago, Illinois. You need to call for reservations at 312/733.9555 especially now that it’s on everyone’s radar. Our table for four right next to the bar was the perfect spot. You can buy the pig prints from the Tate Modern and blow them up as large as they did.

Related post/s:
Publican Chicago restaurant photos on Flickr
Gastropub food and The Spotted Pig

Did you know that Chicago has the most Polish residents after Warsaw? Yeah, me neither. From the immigration of the 1890s called Za Chlebem, or For Bread, to the “Solidarity” wave of the 1980s, the Polish have called Chicago home for more than 150 years. So when I told Anna I was going to disturb her otherwise quiet work week by flying in to her city for three days to eat and kill time before I was scheduled to start a new job, Polish food was her first suggestion. I obviously wasn’t escaping New York’s cold weather by going to the midwest, so I thought a warm and comforting Eastern European fare was just perfect.

I have no idea where I am when I sit on the passenger seat of a car, but I remember when Anna pointed to the gray DMV building next to the road she was driving on. The neighborhood itself looked like something from Winogrand’s photo archives as if it was frozen in time; the leafless trees didn’t make it less dreary. Smak Tak gave off the same feeling. It was empty when we walked in because the busy lunch hour just finished and it looked like a cabin that has never experienced business since it opened: it was spotless and lifeless.

The food was the complete opposite. Even though Anna and I were the only two people eating, the kitchen still whipped up some dishes that were good and delicious enough for a big party. We started with a bowl of white borscht with a faint hint of dill. An assorted plate of pierogis came next with the savory (cheese and potato, sauerkraut and mushrooms, even tuna) and the sweet stuffings (syruped berries and cherries).

I tried to slow down on the heavy dumplings because I wanted to save myself for the main attraction: good ol’ hunter’s stew of shredded cabbage, veal meat, potatoes and sausages. Winter food couldn’t get any better than that. It was full of depth and flavor and it went down like a very warm fuzzy blanket. If I could cuddle with that bowl of stew, I would. If I had to hunt a big animal with all my strength, it was all I needed to do the job right. We came out of Smak Tak fortified and ready for Chicago’s wind and chills and I was a little glad that lunch didn’t come with any frills.

Smak Tak is at 5961 North Elston Avenue in Chicago, Illinois. They are open seven days a week from 11 to 9.

Related post/s:
Smak Tak Polish restaurant photos on Flickr
Charlie Trotter’s knew a little something about making their diners feel comfortable

Anna picked us up from our hotel and drove us to Maxwell Street where a few avenues are blocked every Sunday to set up a market and food fair. It was hard to find parking but as soon as we started walking around, we couldn’t help but feel like we were in another country. I’ve always liked visiting markets whenever I’m traveling, and in Chicago, Maxwell Street is the place to be if you need duct tape, electric cords, Mexican beads, Guadalupe posters, tomatillos, peppers and of course, tacos and tamales. The sight and the different smells were intoxicating. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It was the perfect day to be bargaining for a Lucha Libre mask.

I tried not to eat too many tacos from one stand lest I miss out on the other offerings down the block. From the first stand, we had chorizo tacos. They were deliciously salty with mad cilantro and lime juice. They were the beginning of a beautiful afternoon.

Then we moved on to the next where I had lengua, or tongue. It was so soft and the green salsa kept it juicy.

The next stand only sold beef tacos. The beef had been stewing in some thick sauce, so the meat fell apart at every bite. It was a delicious mess.

I had the squash blossom taco next, but it was too funky to finish. I think it had been sitting in the bowl for a while so it didn’t taste fresh, but the pork barbeque taco was pretty good.

We also picked up a glass of the crushed iced lime juice from another stand. About an hour later, we were very full and happy, but I still bought a pork tamale to take with me to the airport. For the love of tacos, we missed our scheduled flight.

I just returned from my third trip to Chicago and I think I’ve got the city down pat. Three years ago, the Dr. and I made it to the Art Institute, the Shedd Aquarium and the MoCA. Last December, we visited the Chicago Cultural Center and ate Persian, Colombian, Japanese, Mexican and Scandinavian. We also had some awesome hotdogs at Hot Doug’s and a really memorable meal at Charlie Trotter’s.

This year, four of us from work went all out at Alinea, most recently named the number one restaurant by Gourmet magazine. Like for every other restaurant I’ve visited, I booked our table before my airline tickets. To simply say that the food was good is an understatement.

Tyler used the word “delicate” and even “fragile” to describe our experience. I need a very special dictionary to define my reaction to each dish that was served–all twelve courses–but even if I had one, I would still have a hard time picking the perfect adjectives.

They called this the hot potato-cold potato because of the two ways the potato is served. A black truffle tops the potato and cubes of parmesan decorate the stick. This was matched with H. Billot Grand Cru Brut Rosé from Ambonnay, France.

Our server had to hold the bowl for me while I took the photograph because the fork was too heavy for the bowl to stand on its own. One small mouthful of the yellowtail brought out the taste of the radish, coriander and poppyseed combined.

The next course was trout roe with cucumber, coconut and bonito matched with Bodegas Naia “Naiades” Verdejo from Rueda, Spain but unfortunately, I don’t have a photo of that.

The matsutake mushroom with mango, peanut and yuzu glass came in a glass and our servers spilled its contents on our plates. It was matched with Gerovassiliou Malagousia from Epanomi, Greece.

Next was the rabbit with cider, roasted garlic and smell of burning oak leaves–probably the coolest thing ever. I’ve had rabbit before but the Chef Grant Achatz way was served covered with a glass filled with smoke. The server lifted the glass to let the smoke escape and we were presented with a piece of rabbit with an earthy smell.

Actually, the peach with smoked paprika and carrot might have been cooler than the rabbit. It was called an explosion. It was served in a small glass and we had to drink it like a shot. The golf ball-sized shell broke oh-so-delicately in our mouths and exploded with the contents inside.

Short rib with ribboned beets, geléed cranberry and campari matched with Cabanon Bonarda “Boisee” from Oltrepò Pavese, Italy. Short rib with beets? Sure. But ribboned beets? Who thinks about stuff like that? The dish was just another example of the crazy kind of genius behind the food.

There was a reason for the rosemary sprigs on our table after all besides a weird centerpiece. Before the dishes were served, they rearranged them to face toward us. When the sizzling platforms were served with the lamb searing on top, the smoke engulfed the rosemary and created that smell we’re all familiar with. The lamb came with date and mastic and matched with Prats & Symington “Chryseia” from Douro, Portugal.

I’ve had rare squab before and once we had to return it and asked the kitchen to cook it for a few more minutes. This squab was soft, almost buttery. If it weren’t for that offal-like taste, you would have guessed it was a nice beef steak. This was squab with huckleberry, sorrel and long peppercorn. The Bilancia “Hawke’s Bay” Syrah from New Zealand was a good match. And then the desserts started to come:

Concord grape, frozen and chewy. This was cooked in PolyScience’s AntiGriddle, a patent pending “cooking” surface that freezes almost anything because of its ability to achieve temperatures below -50ºF.

Chestnut with Blis maple syrup eaten with a small metal matchstick.

Crabapple with cheddar, eucalyptus and olive oil matched with Muller-Catoir Haardter Mandelring Scheurebe Spatlese from Pfalz. I love desserts like this: tart enough to cleanse the palate and not overwhelmingly sweet.

Chocolate with bergamot, cassia and figs matched with De Bartoli “Bukkuram” Moscato Passito di Pantelleria from Italy. Alas, I’m not a big fan of chocolate overload but I appreciated this dish as much as the entire table; I just couldn’t finish it.

Caramel with meyer lemon and tempura served in what looked like one those head massagers I found in Barcelona. A burning cinnamon stick protruding on top was lit like a birthday candle.

The service was attentive yet more relaxed that at The French Laundry. While we waited for our table to be set up, we were served complimentary champagne downstairs past the doors which opened with a wave of your hand. Upstairs, the dark wood and warm lighting made us feel like we were in someone’s apartment–someone rich, someone with taste, someone we knew!

The waiters and servers in their Ermenegildo Zegna suits were so comfortable telling us about the courses even though each dish got more ridiculous (in a good way, of course). They laughed with us but also answered all our questions. Are the dishes made especially for the restaurant? (Some are retail but the more sculpture-like serviceware are created by Crucial Detail.) How do you freeze grape? (AntiGriddle.) May I go to the bathroom? (It’s best to wait because the next course is coming up and it takes about twelve minutes to burn the leaves.) We didn’t know what to expect with each course. They could have told us anything and we would have followed like obedient guests. (We will now blindfold you while you eat. Sure!)

The sommelier’s skills came through with his incredible pairings. Sure, French, Spanish and Italian wines are a given, but Greek? I would have never picked that on my own. He opened our palate to different kinds of wines which made us appreciate the style of cooking that the chef was trying to get across.

Alinea is at 1723 North Halsted in Chicago, Illinois. Call 312/867.0110 a month ahead to make reservations.

Chicago was cool, both literally and figuratively. I was bummed to pack my winter jacket in New York on Friday when it wasn’t even cold, but as soon as the wind hit us when we stepped out of O’Hare, I was thankful I didn’t put fashion ahead of function.

Friday night was all about Persian food at Noon-O-Kabab. Four of us split the lamb shank and the koubideh kababs with eggplants, borani, hummus, warm pita bread and a bottle of Shiraz. The entire meal was a nice welcome greeting. I haven’t seen Anna and Mike since we all met up in Manila last year.

Saturday was Colombian at Brasa Roja where we watched the lady behind the counter shovel charcoal into the rotisserie pit. Our chicken was all salty goodness together with the arepa (Colombian corn pancakes but Salvadorian pupusas are so much better), plantains plus rice and beans and the bowl of broth peppered with chicken neck and liver.

We also stopped by Izumi for some Japanese to tie us over until dinner. The blue fin otoro and their uni were very satisfying. They also had flying fish roe in black, which I’ve never seen before. We also ordered a flight of sake and a glass of plum wine.

Sunday brought us Scandinavian brunch at Tre Kronor: salmon quiche, corned beef sandwich, crabcakes and a hefty onion soup. Their Danish pastries were to die for.

Dinner was with other anesthesia residency applicants at Meritage, a New American spot that served pretty impressive monkfish and barracuda.

Monday was Mexican at Lindo Michoacan for some awesome chorizo and carne asada tacos. We had to eat something while waiting for the boy to finish his actual interview at the hospital.

The tacos alone made us crave “gourmet” hotdogs at Hot Doug’s.

We stayed with Anna in Albany Park and we were within walking distance from a lot of restaurants offering ethnic cuisines. Chicago is just like New York City in that way–the streets are just cleaner.

Where to eat in Chicago:

Noon-O-Kabab, 4661 N Kedzie Avenue, 773/279.8899
La Brasa Roja, 3125 W Montrose Avenue, 773/866.2252
Izumi Sushi Bar & Restaurant, 731 W Randolph Street, 312/207.5299
Tre Kronor, 3258 W Foster Avenue, 773/267.9888
Meritage Cafe & Wine Bar, 2118 N Damen Avenue, 773/235.6434
Lindo Michoacan, 3148 W Lawrence, 773/539.6627
Hot Doug’s Inc, 3324 N California Avenue, 773/279.9550