29 August 2010

Alinea, Chicago - Restaurant Review

(For a review of my most recent visit to Alinea in June 2011 see here)


An airless August evening in Chicago and the oppressive humidity envelops me like a thick blanket, smothering all thought and energy as I zip uptown in a stuffy cab. We arrive at our destination, still listless from the heat; an unmarked door opens to reveal a mysterious corridor bathed in soft, fuchsia light. The passageway appears to shrink as you walk down it, and I feel like Alice having just eaten the magic cake marked "Eat Me". Down the rabbit hole we go! At the end of the corridor a door silently slides open. "Curiouser and curiouser" I feel like blurting out as we set foot inside. Welcome to the world of Alinea.

From the moment I knew I'd be travelling to Chicago I knew there was one, and only one, restaurant I simply had to make the pilgrimage to. That restaurant was Alinea, recently voted the seventh best restaurant in the world and the best in the USA in the 2010 San Pellegrino awards. Michelin will be publishing their guide to Chicago later this year and Alinea has been hotly tipped to receive the full complement of three stars. (Update 16.11.2010: To no one's great surprise, Alinea did indeed win three stars in Michelin's inaugural guide to Chicago.)

Now for a warning: this is quite a long review but, for me, it's the only way I could even attempt to do my dinner at Alinea any justice. So, pour yourself a glass of something nice and join me in marvelling at one of the most exciting restaurants on the planet.

Alinea is the creation of head chef and co-owner, Grant Achatz and, since it opened in 2005, it has taken the culinary world's breath away by the sheer inventiveness and flavours of its molecular gastronomy-based cooking. The story of Chef Achatz is indeed a remarkable one. After graduating from the prestigious Culinary Institute of America, Achatz went to work under the tutelage of Thomas Keller at his legendary Californian restaurant, The French Laundry. There, Achatz honed his craft and rose to the rank of sous chef. In 2001, he travelled east and arrived in Chicago to run the now defunct Trio restaurant in Evanston, which over the ensuing three years would gain a rare five Mobil (now Forbes) stars, one of only thirteen in the US at the time. In 2005 Achatz went solo and Alinea was born. Since then the restaurant has been at the bleeding edge of culinary invention and it has garnered worldwide acclaim. The story doesn't end there though. In 2007 Achatz was diagnosed with stage 4 (there is no stage 5) cancer of the tongue and risked losing arguably a chef's only asset: his sense of taste. Faced with a choice of losing his tongue, Achatz said no to conventional medicine and opted instead for an alternative treatment. Now, thankfully, he is cancer-free, but the episode is testament to Achatz's philosophy of cooking in that he is not afraid to hurl convention aside and challenge traditional approaches.

Alinea is a relatively small restaurant with 20 tables serving about 80 covers a night. The interior is calm and muted, almost boring even, and is hued in shades of grey, tan, and black with a mix of bold and conservative artwork adorning the walls. It serves as a very pleasant and neutral dining room, and the intent is clear: at Alinea the theatrics come from the food. We were shown to our table upstairs in a quiet corner of the restaurant. There is only one menu offered at Alinea, which is a 20-course tasting menu. Until very recently, the restaurant had offered the choice of 12- or 26-course tasting menus but the intention was always to streamline these and offer just one menu, which the restaurant implemented at the start of August 2010.

After we were seated the waiter placed what seemed like an attractive decorative centrepiece on the table. It consisted of three intricate flags suspended from wooden sticks that were held in place by a metal stand. We were instructed not to touch them as they were to play a part later on in the meal.

For our first course we were served a light summer salad. Sounds simple enough, right? Well, as I would learn, at Alinea nothing is simple. Frozen, aerated pea purée and freeze dried peas were combined with Iberico ham powder and gel, honeydew spheres, Amontillado sherry encapsulations, basil leaves, frozen olive oil jam, and burrata and honey granules. It was a revelation - the cool sweetness of the peas melded perfectly with the other flavours. Each bite was different, never the same flavour combination twice. Wow, what a way to wake up the taste buds. Just sensational!
English Pea, Iberico, Sherry, Honeydew
From the stratospheric heights of the opening volley, we lowered altitude a touch with an excellent tempura-style nugget of lobster, lychee and Gruyère cheese. This had been pierced with a vanilla pod and was suspended in a strange metal wire contraption. The vanilla acted as a handle and infused a subtle hint of vanilla to the dish. It was an unusual combination of flavours but it worked remarkably well.
Lobster, Lychee, Gruyère, Vanilla fragrance
For the next course, the waiter placed air-filled pillows on the table. We were told that the next dish would be placed on these pillows. Sure enough, a square plate was then perched precariously on the pillow. On the plate were the single best examples of heirloom tomatoes I have ever tasted. They were accompanied by things like olive oil purée, chilled pine nuts, caramelised onion, red pepper, burrata, basil, balsamic tapenade, and Parmesan powder. It turns out that the pillows were filled with the aroma of fresh-cut grass and, as you eat, the pillow slowly deflates to release that sensual aroma which is so evocative of the long, balmy summer days of childhood. The scent of grass and the flavour of the tomatoes created such a heady, intoxicating mix - the quintessence of summer on a plate. This was one of my favourite dishes of the evening, and the thought flashed through my mind that maybe life as vegetarian wouldn't have to be such a bad option.
Tomatoes, Pillow of fresh-cut grass aroma
Next we were served a solitary stick of fried yuba (soy milk skin) around which was wrapped an impossibly fresh, barely cooked prawn, candied orange peel, and chives, along with a dusting of togarashi powder (a Japanese chilli powder) and a sprinkling of black and white sesame seeds. The yuba stick had been dipped into a small bowl of miso mayonnaise, like a feathered quill in an ink pot. Another wonderful dish - the crunchy yuba juxtaposed nicely by the soft, creamy mayonnaise. A riot of fresh and clean flavours.
Yuba, Shrimp, Miso, Togarashi
The next two dishes were in preparation for the Thai spring rolls coming up. The first of these dishes was based on the popular Vietnamese dish, Chạo tôm. It consisted of a small block of sugar cane that has been soaked and glazed in a reduction of shrimp stock, coriander, ginger and lemongrass. This is then garnished with a thin slice of garlic, julienne of shallot, lime, mint, coriander, Thai chilli, and peanuts. The idea with this dish is to chew the woody sugar cane to extract all the flavours and then try and elegantly spit the remaining pulp out into napkins provided for this purpose. This was a delightful and complex one-bite dish, and the myriad of flavours combined beautifully. It was indicative of the lengths the restaurant will go to, just to provide one perfect bite of food. As a child I used to chew on raw sugar cane as a treat and this dish brought those memories flooding back.
Chạo Tôm, Sugar cane, Shrimp, Mint
Then we were presented with a wine glass that contained a small amount of a clear, innocuous looking liquid. I swilled the liquid around and took a sniff. Immediately I was hit with the familiar fragrant aromas of lemongrass, chilli, galangal, and nam pla. It was a distillation of Thai flavours. For the techie among you it is made using a rotary evaporator, which works in the same way as the Liebig condensers I used in my school chemistry classes. The liquid is distilled under vacuum at low temperature, which preserves the delicate aromatic compounds. This results in a condensed liquid that has a pure clarity of flavour to it. There was the taste of chilli, but no chilli heat, and nam pla, but no saltiness. Remarkable.
Distillation of Thai flavours
The next course would utilise the decorative 'flags' that had been placed on our table at the start of the meal. The waiter placed a glass tray in front of us that contained small, precise mounds of black salt, cucumber, fried garlic slices, mango dipped in curry powder, lime, coconut, red onion, chilli paste, cashews, herb flowers, and basil seed vinaigrette. We were then instructed to lift the glass tray and place it on the table in front of us. This revealed a wooden board that housed two strange looking metal implements. We were to arrange these metal implements to create a stand on which we would build our spring rolls. The 'flags' tuned out to be sheets of flower-pressed rice paper and we each placed the sheet onto the stand, which was then filled with some creamy black cod (this dish is also done with pork belly). We were then free to add whatever toppings we liked (I used all of them of course) to create our masterpiece. It was both theatrical and delicious - bursting with fresh, lively flavours, a really fun course.
Toppings for the spring roll
Black cod, Curry, Cucumber, Lime - assembling the dish
Black cod, Curry, Cucumber, Lime - the finished product
For our next course, the waiter placed an egg shaped bowl on the table and we were warned not to touch the bottom as it was piping hot. Perched on top of the egg bowl was a cold king crab and buttermilk parfait, garnished with rhubarb jelly, chervil juice, fennel, and lilac flowers. When we had finished, the waiter arrived to take away our plates, or so I thought. Instead, he lifted off the top of the egg bowl to reveal another plate beneath. This plate contained a salad of king crab, sliced fennel, pickled rhubarb and mung bean sprouts. Finally, once we had eaten this, the final layer of the Russian doll was revealed. The bottom of the bowl contained a hot, rich gratin of king crab with rhubarb, fennel, cippolini onions, and a star anise encapsulation. I loved this dish. I loved the way the same flavours of crab, rhubarb and fennel intensified as the dish progressed.
King crab, Rhubarb, Lilac, Fennel (part 1)
King crab, Rhubarb, Lilac, Fennel (part 2)
King crab, Rhubarb, Lilac, Fennel (part 3)
The next course was an Alinea classic entitled "Hot Potato, Cold Potato". We were presented with a small wax bowl containing a cold potato soup. Skewered onto a pin that had been driven through the side of the bowl was a small cube of Parmesan, a cube of butter, a piece of chive, and a ball of hot Yukon Gold potato that had been covered with a disc of black truffle. We pulled the pin out of the bowl allowing the ingredients on it to drop into the soup. We then gulped the whole thing down as you would an oyster. To call this a soup would be like calling a Bentley a car. It was so sensual - rich, buttery and silky smooth, with a really pleasant contrast of temperatures.
Hot potato, Cold potato, Black truffle, Butter
On to the main meat entrées now. The first dish we were served was cryptically titled "Lamb: Reflection of Elysian Fields Farm". All the lamb used at Alinea comes from the evocatively named Elysian Fields Farm in Waynesburg, PA. This hugely complex dish is a homage to Elysian Fields Farm, and every element is somehow connected to the life the lambs lead on the farm. Saddle of lamb is cooked en sous vide until meltingly tender, and then it is skewered onto a spruce twig. The lamb is served with breaded, fried cubes of intensely-flavoured rendered lamb fat; polenta made from powdered cornmeal cooked en sous vide; lamb stock foam; popcorn soup; a gravel of popcorn, freeze-dried corn and powdered lamb fat; green onion 'grass' made from a dried purée of green onions and chives; a savoury granola of seeds and nuts; dots of goat milk pudding; and nitrogen-frozen blackberry jam. It was as incredible a plate of food as I've ever had and is such a showcase for the rarefied level of the cooking at Alinea.
Lamb: Reflection of Elysian Fields farm
The next course was another signature Alinea dish and it was a real show-stopper, one of the many highlights of the evening. A single ravioli topped with black truffle, Parmesan, and romaine was presented to us on a spoon placed in a small bottomless bowl. We were instructed to eat it in one go. We bit into the translucent ravioli, which released a burst of the most intense, warm truffle broth. We were stunned into silence. It was just divine. Apparently this dish was conceived when Chef Achatz was at the French Laundry and it was a highlight of the menu at Trio (in fact he prepared this dish for the job interview there). Such was its popularity there that Achatz brought it to Alinea. The truffle broth is made from a stock of fresh black truffles (I gather up to 10lbs of truffles are used in the stockpot at a time) and butter. I still have warm, fuzzy dreams about this dish.
Black truffle explosion, Romaine, Parmesan
The second main entrée was a beautiful dish of squab pigeon and strawberries served on a birch log. Squab breast is cooked en sous vide until rare and is served with the crispy fried squab skin. Accompanying this is strawberry powder, charred strawberries, frisée, upland cress, strawberry leather, crunchy fried hazelnuts, eucalyptus jam, nicoise olives, and pickled wild leeks. The birch log had been heated under a salamander so that as you ate you could smell the warm scent of birch sap. It was a dish symbolic of regrowth, the green leaves seemingly bursting forth from charred embers.
Squab, Charred strawberries, Lettuce, Birch log
For our final meat entrée we went back in time. It started with some antique cutlery and an ornately decorated cut crystal goblet being placed on our table. The goblet was filled with a hibiscus soda, which was slightly astringent and very refreshing, preparing our palettes for what was to come.
Hibiscus soda
The final entrée was Tournedos à la Persane, a 100-year-old recipe taken straight from Escoffier's seminal book, Le Guide Culinaire. If we weren't already impressed with the Alinea chefs' range of culinary skills, they now show off their seemingly endless repertoire with this most classic of classic dishes. Australian wagyu fillet is cooked slowly (again en sous vide) until rare and then quickly seared. It is served with a lightly charred marinated tomato, a fried banana slice, Anaheim pepper stuffed with a creamy risotto-like jasmine rice, Chateaubriand sauce, and garnished with tarragon and thyme leaves. It was a masterful execution of a classic dish, although for me it was the most 'ordinary' dish of the night and a little incongruous. The Alinea chefs don't need to convince us of their talents and should stick to what they do best, which is stunning diners with their imaginative and unique brand of cooking.
Tournedo à la Persane
Following this, we entered the homeward stretch with some pre-desserts. We started with a visually striking dish - a dehydrated slice of bacon suspended from a metal bow. One end of the bacon had been drizzled with butterscotch, around which was wrapped some strands of apple leather lace. It was finished off with a tiny sprig of thyme leaves. It was a good mix of saltiness and sweetness, with the apple providing a touch of acidity. A delicious way of getting our palettes ready for dessert proper.
Bacon, Butterscotch, Apple, Thyme
We also had a rather odd dish of a chocolate truffle made with Nutella, banana, and bread. There wasn't anything more to this dish at all, it tasted exactly like what you might make at home. Maybe I was missing something, but it was the weakest course of the evening.
Nutella, Bread, Banana, Chocolate
Next was a trio of small desserts. A razor thin transparency of tart raspberry and yoghurt was held in a small metal stand. Next to this was a hollow glass tube containing a hibiscus gel, vanilla crème fraîche, and tapioca pearls cooked in bubble gum stock. This was another one bite dish and you had to suck out the contents of the tube, which ensues in much hilarity as it makes the most vulgar, farting, rasping sound you could imagine. Finally, there was a tiny, perfect cucumber blossom that was served with whipped lemon mousse, mint, and Murray River salt - it was cool, sweet and refreshing.
Pre-desserts (In the middle: Bubble gum, Long pepper, Hibiscus, Crème fraîche)
Cucumber blossom, Whipped lemon, Mint, Murray River salt
Transparency of raspberry, Yoghurt
For our first dessert proper, we were served a dish that was inspired by the humble cup of tea. From something so simple, the Alinea chefs created yet another complex masterpiece. Crumbly, sable-like Earl Grey biscuits are served with lemon curd, pine nut custard, crystallised pine nuts, fennel jam, crystals of rose pâte de fruit, and garnished with 'noodles' of rose-flavoured white chocolate, dried tea leaves, and fresh thyme and lemon balm leaves. This was just unbelievably good. The fresh, acidic lemon curd provided a good balance with the rich sweetness of the other elements of the dish.
Early Grey, Lemon, Pine nut, Caramelised white chocolate
Fittingly, the final course was something very special indeed. It was pure culinary magic and fine art combined. The table was cleared, save for our glasses, and a thin grey silicon sheet was placed over it. Small bowls containing various ingredients were placed to one side. We waited. Soon Chef de Cuisine David Beran arrived and proceeded to create our dessert on the table before our very eyes. First, glass cylinders were placed on the table and filled with a warm liquid sauce of 68% chocolate from Valrhona. This was followed by pieces of firm coconut mousse and chewy coconut, which were scattered around the table. Thick coconut milk was then artfully spooned onto the table. Each blob somehow morphed into a square shape - like the best magic I have no idea how it is done. Then small mounds of a granulated chocolate and menthol 'soil' were sprinkled on the table, followed by great sweeping arcs of a menthol infused cream. Then some more drama as a nitrogen-frozen dark chocolate mousse (64% Valrhona) was placed in the centre and broken into shards, allowing an eerie mist to hover over the table that spilled over the sides like a slow motion waterfall. To finish, shards of crispy menthol and anise hyssop leaves were added. For the grand finale the glass cylinders were removed to reveal the liquid chocolate, which had by now mysteriously set into warm, barely set discs of chocolate pudding. The fat lady was well and truly hollering now. Crisp, cooling menthol combined wonderfully with the rich chocolate and unctuous coconut. This was simply the best and most creative dessert I have ever had. Genius.
Chocolate, Coconut, Menthol, Hyssop
We finished the meal with some fresh mint tea and were presented with that night's menu in a sleek black envelope. Even the menu itself is remarkable. Next to where each course is describe there is a circle. The size of the circle represents the relative size of the dish (i.e. the larger the course the larger the circle), and the further to the right the circle is, the sweeter the dish. So you're left with this beautiful visual representation of the progression of the meal. A really clever touch.

We paid $185 per person for the food alone, yet I can't help feeling that this was a bargain. The Alinea team produced probably the singular best meal I have ever experienced. It was just awe-inspiring. The front-of-house was impeccable too - the staff convey such warmth and enthusiasm for what they are achieving (similar to how I described the service at Noma in that sense) and the service was friendly without being too chummy, and efficient without being overbearing. Glasses seemed to refill themselves and new napkins would suddenly appear on returning from the loos. It was a theatrical tour de force and quite a thing to behold, a bit like staring, mesmerised at the inner workings of a Patek Philippe watch.

I'm still trying to come to terms with the meal I had at Alinea. It was pure culinary alchemy and I was genuinely moved by the whole experience. Maybe in the coming weeks and months I will be able to make more sense of it. But suffice it to say I feel a deep sense of gratitude to Chef Achatz and the Alinea team for allowing me to experience a meal of such exceptional beauty. Alinea truly is one of the great, great restaurants of this world.

Food:          10 / 10
Service:       10 / 10
Ambiance:   10 / 10

(For a review of my most recent visit to Alinea in June 2011 see here)

1723 North Halsted
Chicago, IL 60614
Tel: +1 312-867-0110

Alinea on Urbanspoon

25 August 2010

The Publican, Chicago - Restaurant Review

Pork, seafood, and beer. What more does a guy need? Just one look at the menu of the Publican and I'm already won over. It's the sort of menu that brings a smile to any dedicated carnivore or piscivore, and features numerous tempting dishes such as ham chops in hay, potted rillettes, pork belly, oysters, and octopus.

The main man behind the Publican is Chef Paul Kahan who is most well known for his critically acclaimed Chicago restaurants, Blackbird and Avec. For his third incarnation, Kahan designed the Publican as a casual Belgian-style beer hall. The cavernous dining room is dominated by a huge u-shaped walnut table that seats around 100 diners in communal fashion. Towards the back is a semi-open kitchen buzzing with activity, and flanking along the wall is a bar lined with around a dozen beer taps. There are also smaller, cosy booths that seat four with waist-high barn door style gates. An array of luminous orbs hangs from the ceiling and huge porcine artwork adorns the walls. It's loud and raucous inside, and you sit cheek by jowl next to other diners, perfect for ogling the dishes others have ordered.

The communal nature of the place also extends to the menu, where dishes are arranged in order of size, with seafood listed on the left side and meat on the right. The idea is to pick two or three smaller plates and one or two larger dishes to share between two. And what a menu it is! Naturally, given the decor, the menu is very pork-heavy and the restaurant takes weekly deliveries of whole pigs from Becker Lane Organic Farm in Iowa, which are then butchered in-house. The problem here is that every dish is the sort of thing you actually want to eat. It's simple, hearty food that is devoid of foams or encapsulations, and choosing what to order can be a real challenge. The beer menu is also amazing, with well over 50 (mostly European) bottled beers, including the fantastic beer from Nøgne Ø in Norway (heia Norge!), and with 12 different beers on tap.

To start us off, Mrs. Nibbler and I ordered a plate of fresh radishes and some spicy pork rinds. The radishes hailed from Kinnikinnick Farm in Caledonia, Illinois. They were cool, crisp, and spicy and we ate them leaves and all (a trick we learnt at Noma) with a smear of plain butter and a sprinkling of sea salt.
Kinnikinnick Farm Radishes with Butter & Sea Salt
The spicy pork rinds arrived wrapped in brown paper in a pint glass. They were made from pigs reared on Slagel Farm in Fairbury, Illinois and had been dusted with an acidic and fiery espelette pepper powder. They were like no other pork rind I had ever tasted. Simply stunning. They were as light as popcorn, ethereal even, and just melted on your tongue. Between Mrs. Nibbler and me they stood no chance and were gone almost instantly.
Spicy Pork Rinds
Next, we shared a dish of pork cheeks that were served with shiso plums and aubergines. The pork cheeks were well-seasoned and full of flavour, and they were cooked to a melting softness rendering the knife redundant. The shisho plums provided just the right amount of acidity and sweetness to cut through the fatty porkiness, and the aubergines had a wonderful, mild smoky taste. I loved this dish dearly and was genuinely sad when it was gone.
Pork Cheeks, Shiso Plums & Marinated Aubergine
For our main course we shared some Provençal fish stew. A large pot of the steaming stew arrived with a ladle buried deep inside and Mrs. Nibbler and I took turns to serve each other. It was such a nice touch. The stew had been made with salt cod, prawns, clams, octopus, crab and potatoes and was served with some toasted bread and a garlicky aioli. It was divine, although a touch salty, but this can happen if the salt cod is not soaked for long enough. Unusually for a Provençal fish soup, this dish did not include saffron or tomatoes, which I was hoping it would as I love those flavours in a fish soup.
Provençal Fish Stew
Desserts are a very simple affair at the Publican, with just three options to choose from. We decided to try a simple white peach sorbet that was served with basil and blueberries. It was a perfect, light and refreshing end to a marvellous supper, although perhaps a touch too sweet for my taste (I like my sorbets to be on the acidic, rather than sweet side).

White Peach Sorbet with Basil and Blueberries
I left Publican that night sated and happy as a pig in the proverbial. The Publican is a truly wonderful place. It serves the sort of hearty and homely food that just makes you glad to be alive. So there it is, if you're lucky enough to live in Chi-town then just go there. Let me leave you with the delicious little homage that appears on the restaurant's card:

"Here’s to the Swine
That Animal Divine
who through Mud and Slime
Grit and Grime
Gorges over Time
Into Meats Sublime"

- the Publican

(UPDATE 10.11.2010: In Michelin's inaugural guide to Chicago, The Publican was awarded a Bib Gourmand, which signifies a restaurant offering "good food at moderate prices.")

Food:         8 / 10
Service:      7 / 10
Ambiance:  8 / 10
837 W. Fulton Market
Chicago, IL 60607
Tel: +1 312-733-9555

Publican on Urbanspoon

21 August 2010

Garrett Popcorn, Chicago


A few days after I arrived in Chicago I realised something was amiss. People seemed to be eating something from the same patterned brown paper bags. It was subtle initially; I barely noticed the first person, who was nonchalantly waiting at the bus stop, bag in hand, munching. But sure enough, the more I paid attention, the more people I would see snacking on what I could now clearly see was popcorn. I was intrigued - was this some mysterious brown paper bag-popcorn chomping cult?

A simple web search would reveal that the popcorn (and bags) originate from a place called Garrett Popcorn. I've never really given popcorn much thought before this, but for a shop to specialise solely in popcorn you'd expect it to be pretty special, and indeed it is. The history of Garrett goes back to 1949 when the first store opened in Chicago's Loop. Today Garrett has nine shops across Chicago and one in New York. I paid a visit to my closest branch just off North Michigan Avenue, and from about a block away I could start to smell the sweet, buttery smell of freshly popped popcorn wafting through the breeze. Upon arrival I was greeted by a queue that looped twice inside the shop and stretched for a good 15 yards in the tropical summer heat outside.

Garrett's "Chicago Mix" Popcorn
I hate queues. I mean I really, really hate waiting. But such was my curiosity that I battled it out to place my order at the counter inside some half an hour later. Garrett's popcorn is air-popped in small batches in each shop; no oils or fats are used in the popping process at all, and they even grow their own corn. The end result is large, perfectly cooked popcorn that is crisp and light, with none of those annoying unpopped kernels that wreak havoc on your fillings. This popcorn is then served plain or blended with natural flavourings, whose ingredients are, as ever, a closely guarded secret. In total Garrett offers four varieties of popcorn: plain, buttery, caramel (with cashews, macadamias, or pecans), and cheese. I opted for their bestselling "Chicago Mix" (apparently a favourite of Oprah), which is a blend of the cheese and caramel flavoured popcorns.

The flavours were amazing, and it was as addictive as crack. Hands down the best popcorn I have tasted, but I suspected it would be before I even took one bite. The cheese popcorn is made using fresh melted cheddar that lends it a quite a sharp bite. It was a world away from the powdered cheesiness of, say, Cheetos or Wotsits. Meanwhile the caramel popcorn was encased in a gossamer thin layer of sugar that had a smooth, buttery taste - a bit like the topping of a crème brûlée. I couldn't wait to bring it back to my hotel and it was wonderful to eat the warm popcorn straight from the bag. I'm not convinced that mixing these two popcorn flavours together works though; I would have preferred to have them separately. Also, mistakenly, I had bought a large bag that Mrs. Nibbler and I weren't able to finish, and by the next day it had lost its freshness and bounce, entailing another trip to Garrett for another crispy, cheesy hit. But if popcorn is your thing (or even if it isn't) then a trip to Garrett is a fantastic and delicious cure for a sudden attack of the munchies.



Garrett Popcorn
625 N. Michigan Avenue
Chicago, IL 60611
USA

Garrett Popcorn Shops on Urbanspoon

19 August 2010

Topolobampo, Chicago - Restaurant Review



I find it difficult to get excited about Mexican food. My experiences to date have led me to believe that it's the jackhammer of world cuisines. BANG, there are the onions, BOOM, there's some cumin, BOSH, there's the chilli kick. All big tastes and no subtlety, right? Rice, beans, corn and more beans, a sure-fire way to gastrointestinal distress. Admittedly, my experiences of Mexican food have occurred mainly in Europe, which can hardly lay claim to being the epicentre of Mexican cooking - for many on this side of the pond a Mexican meal consists of an Old El Paso taco kit and maybe some mashed avocados (I still have nightmares about a hastily consumed burrito at the now defunct Earl's Court Taco Bell in London). I suspect that this sort of 'Mexican' food is as unrecognisable to a Mexican as General Tso's chicken would be to a Chinese person. But surely there is more to Mexican food than this Tex-Mex rubbish? After all Mexico has a rich culinary tradition dating back over 21,000 years.

So when I found myself in Chicago recently, I jumped at the chance to have lunch at Rick Bayless's Topolobampo restaurant, which is billed as a 'fine dining' Mexican restaurant. I wanted to find out if my preconceived notions of Mexican food were indeed accurate and whether this cuisine could possess a refinement I had not yet encountered.

Before coming to Chicago I had vaguely heard of Bayless when his name was mentioned as a possible candidate for Executive Chef at The White House. I later found out that Rick Bayless is a legend in his own right and is possibly the greatest champion of authentic Mexican food in the US. His first restaurant, Frontera Grill, opened in Chicago in 1987 and is designed as a casual Mexican eatery. Topolobampo opened on the same site (they share the same front door and bar) two years later and was one of the first to offer high-end Mexican food in the US. Since then the Bayless empire has grown and now includes four restaurants (with two more set to open at O'Hare airport), book deals, TV shows and even his own line of branded food products.

Although located at the same site of the informal Frontera Grill restaurant, Topolobampo retains its own, more upscale style and feels distinctly separate from its next door sibling. The dining room is coloured in bold hues of red and gold, and even though we were here at lunchtime the lighting was subdued and the atmosphere intimate, although it was somewhat spoiled by the slightly cheesy fiesta-style music playing over the sound system.

We were given menus to peruse, accompanied by large glasses of ice water and some guacamole with tortilla chips. The chips were light and very moreish, and the guacamole was fresh with a pleasant, grassy perfume, although I felt it needed the addition of a bit more chilli and maybe some lime (ironic given how I've just complained about Mexican food being all about big flavours). We skipped the margaritas made table-side and opted instead for a watermelon and lime drink which was too sweet for me.
Guacamole and tortilla chips

For starters, Mrs. Nibbler had Coctel de Atún Tropical, which consisted of cubes of tuna sashimi, an avocado and tomatillo guacamole, and a mango and grapefruit salsa. I had to fight to get a bite of this as it was simply divine, bursting with fresh flavours. No single ingredient dominated this dish; it was perfectly balanced and very good indeed.
Coctel de Atún Tropical

I opted to start with Lake Okeechobee frog legs which came with a guajillo chilli-infused polenta-style tamale, shredded snap peas, microgreens, potato crisp and a chipotle-black bean sauce. This was nicely presented and looked very delicate and refined on the plate. The frogs' legs were perfectly cooked, succulent without being too watery. The tamale was soft and creamy with a pleasant, mild chilli bite and the sauce had a deep, smoky flavour to it. The microgreens were peppery and intensely flavoured. This was quite an unusual combination of flavours for me but I really liked this dish and felt it worked well. It was delicious.
Lake Okeechobee frog legs

For her main course, Mrs. Nibbler had Camarones al Mojo "Blanco y Negro", which sounds like something Austin Powers would eat and makes me chuckle childishly every time I say it ("you stole my mojo!"). This course was comprised of grilled gulf shrimp with a black and white mojo of black garlic, white garlic, olive oil, chipotle, and lime. This was served with Swiss chard, puffed quinoa and chives and was to be eaten wrapped in warm corn tortillas. Surprisingly, although not written on the menu nor mentioned by the waiter, this dish also came with grilled scallops. Now I love bivalves, but sadly Mrs. Nibbler doesn't and I'm guessing she wouldn't have ordered this dish if she knew it would feature them so heavily. However, this was actually a good thing for me as it meant I could indulge too. This was a pleasant enough dish but it was nothing special; it just felt too heavy, the presentation was poor, and the mojo tended to overwhelm all other flavours.
Camarones al Mojo "Blanco y Negro"

For my main course I had braised pork shoulder and belly with a blue corn pipián sauce (a sauce based on toasted pumpkin seeds) made with ancho and pasilla chillies. This was served with a white corn purée, black beans, avocado leaves, garlicky braised quelites (a spinach-like leaf), charred baby Iroquois white corn and sweet corn 'air'. I didn't really enjoy this dish at all, it just seemed so busy. The pork was overcooked, and I didn't care for the rough, dry texture of the corn purée. The sweet corn 'air' seemed pretentious, which would be forgivable if it had actually tasted of something. One redeeming factor was the charred baby Iroquois corn from Spence Farm, about 100 miles south of Chicago. This was wonderfully sweet, crisp and juicy. I could have munched on just a bowl of them all day.
Puerco en Pipián de Maiz Azul

On to dessert. At the waiter's recommendation we opted for the chocolate tart, but as we were getting full we decided to share it. Bad idea, as again Mrs. Nibbler and I had to fight over it. It was sensational. Luxurious, silky-smooth, dark Mexican chocolate sat atop a thin layer of soft, gooey cajeta (goat milk caramel). This ensemble was lightly sprinkled with flakes of salt and encased in crumbly pastry. Accompanying this was a scoop of goat cheese ice cream, toasted marshmallows, and graham cracker 'gravel'. Again a menu substitution we were not informed about, but this time it was a minor one as the tart came with plump blackberries instead of the advertised strawberries. The blend of flavours here was just amazing; the richness of the chocolate was nicely cut by the fresh saltiness of the goat cheese ice cream while the cajeta and marshmallows provided delicious bursts of sweetness. Who knew chocolate and goat cheese would go so well together! I finished with some excellent Intelligentsia Black Cat espresso, while Mrs. Nibbler enjoyed a rather decadent chocolate cappuccino made with Oaxacan chocolate.
Topolobampo dessert menu
Tartaleta de Chocolate con Cajeta
Lunch at Topolobampo certainly changed my perceptions of Mexican food. I was impressed by the depth of flavours achieved. The sauces in particular tasted complex, and were overlaid with a multitude of subtle tastes. The main courses were a disappointment though and were just not good enough to be called 'fine-dining' food. The starters and dessert showed some flashes of brilliance but I'd like to go back and try some other main courses before passing final judgement. So is Mexican haute cuisine possible? Based on my lunch at Topolobampo I would say that the jury's still out, but I look forward to learning more about this region's fascinating fare.

(Update 16.11.2010: Topolobampo was awarded a star in Michelin's inaugural guide to Chicago).

Food:         7 / 10
Service:      6 / 10
Ambiance:  7 / 10
445 North Clark Street
Chicago, IL 60654
Tel: +1 312-661-1434

Topolobampo on Urbanspoon

16 August 2010

Five Guys, Chicago - Restaurant Review

Great food always needs a sense of location. Bouillabaisse in Marseille, sushi in Tokyo, and fish & chips by the sea in the UK always have that certain 'je ne sais quoi' that location provides, and they taste all the better for it. America is the birthplace and spiritual home of the burger as we know it today and it has given the world some amazing burger icons; from the burger munching Wimpy in Popeye, to the Big Kahuna burger of Pulp Fiction fame, and of course the ubiquitous golden arches.

Hubert Keller's book, 'Burger Bar', examines the burger's place in America, and in it Keller paints a wonderfully evocative image of the burger:

“Built to satisfy large hungers - for juice-dripping-down-the-chin deliciousness, for the sound of fat sizzling and jumping as it hits hot coals, for Meat spelled with a capital M, for adventure embodied in glossy, grazing cattle guarded by rugged cowboys - burgers occupy a large, vital territory in American food consciousness. Quintessentially democratic, burgers belong to everyone. Biting into a thick, succulent burger, we all feel rich.”

It's almost as though burgers are the very embodiment of the American spirit.

To satisfy my burger craving when I was in Chicago recently, I went to the local Five Guys restaurant near Lincoln Park. Five Guys Burgers and Fries, to give its full name, started out as a family business in 1986 in Arlington, just outside of Washington DC. For the next 15 years DC metro-area residents would be the only ones to experience a Five Guys burgers from one of the company's five restaurants. In 2002 Five Guys started to expand and as of writing there are now 625 Five Guys locations across North America.

Five Guys operates as a fast-food style restaurant, and diners queue up, place their order at the counter and then either eat their food inside or take it away with them. Here the similarities to other large fast food chains ends. Five Guys (and I should also include In-N-Out Burger) has quite simply redefined the concept of fast food. The menu consists of basically three items: burgers, fries and hot dogs.

Everything is fresh at Five Guys. In fact, amazingly, their restaurants boast no freezers whatsoever, and all food is cooked to order. Fries are made from fresh unpeeled potatoes and are cooked in peanut oil. As a little quirky trademark, Five Guys offers complimentary monkey nuts to munch on while waiting.

I opted for a cheeseburger with everything ('all the way' in Five Guys lingo) and fries, washed down with some cold cherry coke. What arrived was a plain brown paper bag containing a dense mass wrapped in unbranded foil accompanied by a paper cup of fries that could feed a family of four. Opening the foil revealed a fantastically decadent treat; two grilled burger patties snuggled in a soft warm sesame bun with slices of melting American cheese, lettuce, pickles, tomatoes, grilled onions, grilled mushrooms, ketchup, mustard and mayo. I later learnt that one of these beauties packs a hefty 840 calories, with 60% of that coming from fat alone, so this is certainly (and literally) not for the weak-hearted. Five Guys also offers a, ahem, 'healthier' option called a 'little burger' which makes the sole concession of including just one burger patty instead of the normal two.

But I'm not here to count calories, I'm here instead to sample the finest cheeseburgers I have ever had. It was truly magnificent - the perfect amalgamation of grilled beef, fat and bread, lubricated by sauce and the freshest of vegetables. The fries were a real revelation too. Fresh from the fryer, hot and crispy, and liberally dosed with salt they were sensational and really tasted of real potatoes.
You can tell by the eccentric customer comments board that Five Guys has a loyal and fanatical following, and I can totally understand why. Five Guys showed me just how fast food should be: simple, fresh and delicious. I can't wait for my next cheeseburger 'all the way' accompanied by a little slice of Americana on the side.

Food:         8 / 10
Service:      7 / 10
Ambiance:  8 / 10
2368 N. Clark Street
Chicago, IL 60614
Tel: +1 773-883-8930

(20.Aug.10, PS - Five Guys has now been voted America's best burger in the 2010 Zagat Fast-Survey. This was based on the results of a poll of over 6,500 people. It has ignited quite a debate about the relative merits of Five Guys vs. In-N-Out, and inevitably it seems the East Coast-West Coast rivalry reigns supreme).

Five Guys Burgers and Fries on Urbanspoon


6 August 2010

Daley Plaza Farmers' Market, Chicago - A Short Photo Essay

Chicagoans are keen enthusiasts of farmers' markets. From the first tentative signs of spring to late autumn Chi-town hosts over 40 different farmers' markets, 20 of which are sponsored by the city itself. In fact during this period there are markets open somewhere in Chicago for five days a week. Farmers come from Illinois, Michigan, Wisconsin, and Indiana to sell their produce in various locations across the city.


3 August 2010

The Wieners Circle, Chicago - Restaurant Review



In my quest to find the perfect Chicago hot dog, I stumbled upon a little gem that has become one of Chi-town's most (in)famous hot dog stands. The Wieners Circle started up in 1983 and, contrary to the sign above the shop proclaiming it's fame for cheddar-burgers, it is mostly known for it's chargrilled hot dogs (char dogs) and it's cheese-smothered French fries.

I came here at lunchtime and the place wasn't too busy and the staff seemed pretty friendly. On weekend nights though the place undergoes a Jekyll & Hyde-like transformation as it opens until 5am and becomes a favourite haunt for the post-bar/club crowd. The Wieners Circle's notoriety stems from the, er, 'fruity' verbal abuse that is encouraged between staff and the often drunk customers on weekend nights. I understand things can get quite heated, even nasty at times, but mostly it's good sport and staff seem to enjoy working here. I have heard though that ordering a "chocolate milkshake" here is not all it seems - it will cost you $20 and is for the brave and/or foolish only! Check out the restaurant's website (link below) for a glimpse of some of the shenanigans that goes on at The Wiener Circle.
The menu here is very simple. Essentially, hot dogs, burgers and fries. I went for a char dog with all the typical Chicago toppings. This included tomatoes, onions, kosher pickles, fiery hot sport peppers, mustard, a lurid green relish (piccalilli), and a dash of celery salt, all served in a poppy seed bun. It was by far the best hot dog I've had to date in Chicago and I'm struggling to see how it can be bettered. The grilled, naturally cased, beef wiener was so much nicer than the usual steamed or boiled versions and gave such pleasing crunch as you bit into it. The char-grilling imparting a wonderful smokey, slightly bitter taste that only cooking over red hot coals can provide. Next time I come here I'm going to also order the cheddar fries, which is basically a basket of french fries that have been obscenely smothered with a molten 'cheese' sauce.
If you're after a sample of one of the best hot dogs that Chicago has to offer then The Wieners Circle has to be one of the main contenders, preferably after a few beers too many in the small hours of the morning.


Food:          8 / 10
Service:       1 or 10 depending on how you like your verbal abuse
Ambiance:   6 / 10

The Wieners Circle
2622 N. Clark Street
Chicago, IL 60614
U.S.A.
Tel: +1 773 477 7444

Wiener's Circle on Urbanspoon

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

1 August 2010

Portillo's Hot Dogs, Chicago - Restaurant Review



A Chicago-style hot dog is one of the great American culinary institutions. There are some variations but one of these beauties generally involves an all-beef wiener served in a steamed poppy seed bun with a cornucopia of toppings that typically include onion, tomato, kosher pickle, sweet pickle relish (sometimes called piccalilli), sport peppers, and of course mustard (never, ever tomato ketchup - it is considered blasphemous by most Chicagoans). The whole ensemble is now, rather appropriately, said to have been 'dragged through the garden'.

For my first taste of Chicago's finest I headed off to Portillo's Hot Dogs which has become a Chicago legend. In 1963 Dick Portillo opened a lone hot dog stand on North Avenue in Villa Park and gave it the wonderful name of "The Dog House". Over the years the business grew and Portillo's now boasts branches across Chicagoland and even some in Southern California.
Each store has a different theme and reflects a particular period of 20th century American History. The one I went to on West Ontario Street was based on the 30's-40's gangster era. The interior really is one of those you-need-to-see-it-to-believe-it-only-in-America-so-awful-it's-good types. In other words, it was perfect for this sort of food. There is no table service here, Portillo's operates like a fast-food chain. I was there on a Saturday lunchtime and was greeted with a queue that seemed to be about 30 yards long. Luckily, I only waited around 5-10 minutes as the restaurant is phenomenally efficient at churning out food. The restaurant does serve dishes other than hot dogs and there is a separate queue for Portillo's Italian fayre, but given that this was deserted it says all you need to know about why people come here.
I ordered a Jumbo Hot dog with all available toppings and a side of onion rings, to be washed down with a vanilla malt shake. The hot dog arrived with all the aforementioned accoutrements. It wasn't pretty but it was a thing of beauty in my book. The first bite into the hot dog was heavenly. Not to be too poncey about this but the whole combination provided a wonderful contrast of textures, flavours and temperatures. The skin of the hot dog yielded to the teeth with a pleasing 'snap' to reveal dense, salty meat that was juicy without being too greasy with a mild smokey taste. The warm, poppy seed bun was made from heavily refined white flour that is all too comforting when combined with the fat of the hot dog. The tomatoes provided moisture, the kosher pickles a good acidic crunch, and the mustard, onions and relish gave the requisite 'oomph', with the small, hot sport peppers giving an occasional fiery bite. It was magnificent; messy, but magnificent. A real guilty pleasure. The onion rings were good too with a light, crispy coating and were not overly greasy.
If you're ever in Chicago then a trip to Portillo's really is a must. It's a perfect place to sample one of Chicago's legendary dishes.

Food:        7 / 10
Service:     6 / 10
Ambiance: 7 / 10

Portillo's Hot Dogs
100 W. Ontario
Chicago IL 60654
Tel: +1 312-587-8910

Portillo's Hot Dogs (Chicago) on Urbanspoon

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad