The Duck Stands Alone!

Welcome to GBGB's first ever live post. In honor of our first calendar year of existence and my birthday we are venturing to Sun Wah Barbecue for their legendary duck dinner.

The Cab
This guy took his sweet ass time getting out of my neighborhood, but we got there safe so all's well that ends well.

The Place
It's bigger than we thought it would be.

The Dranks
We have a lot.

Yes, that's Pharrell's signature liqueur Qream in the middle.

FOOD
They carve the hours table side the way Dexter carves a bad guy in his weird plastic lined rooms.
The duck is made into dumplings and a hearty soup. Delicious all of it. Then again, with enough peach flavored Qream in your system, anything tastes delicious.

Hindsight Commentary
Things decended rather quickly after the first drinks were poored, proving once again that ambition and focus are no match for alcohol.

We're Just Ordinary People, Part 8: Butchers Be Trippin'

When a new restaurant opens in my hood I. CHECK. IT. OUT. So when I heard there was a rare BYOBsquared (build  your own burger/bring your own booze) opening just blocks from my house, I jumped at the opportunity to review my skinny ass off.

The restaurant is Butcher and The Burger. Think of it as a smaller and entirely independent counterpart to Lincoln Park's other BYOBurger spot The Counter (which is part of a national chain). Both places ask you to choose every aspect of your sandwich from the bun to the type of meat to all the fixins your already taxed veins can tolerate.

Burgers

––Grass Fed Beef––

Temp: Medium Rare

Seasoning: Sonoran

Bun: Pretzel

Fixins': Lettuce, Tomato, Griddled Onion, Cheddar, Fried Egg

If you're looking for the signature meat option on B&B's extensive option list, this is it. The patty is thinner (and by default, more traditional) than most couture burgers you find in Chicago, but not so thin that cooking temperature becomes an afterthought. The expertly fried egg provided an instant emulsion that, when combined with the caramelized onions, offered up a taste of opulent richness to this otherwise honest working man's burger.

––Cube Steak––

Temp: Medium Rare

Seasoning: Cajun

Bun: Pretzel

Fixins': Lettuce, Tomato, Cheddar, Thick Cut Bacon

When I ordered the cube steak at the counter I was told that it was not ground meat but actually a thin cut cube steak. Undaunted I proceeded to order it medium rare and with minimal toppings (or fixins' as we call them here) so that I could enjoy the finer aspects of this oh-so-choice cut of flesh. What I was served was a chewy, largely flavorless and all together unsatisfying sandwich. Save for the professional grade bacon (mouthwatering), fresh veggies, and sharp cheese this burger was huge let down. I don't advise getting it unless you want a jaw workout.

––Elk––

Temp: Rare

Seasoning: Chicago Steak

Bun: Butter Bun

Fixins': Lettuce, Tomato, Pickle, Fried Egg, Truffle Mayo, Goat Cheese

Ah Elk, that majestic horse sized deer of legend. Roaming freely through the forest, grazing on tree bark and summer grasses, perching on rocky outcroppings looking proud and noble...BOOM. One well placed blast from a hunter's rifle reduces the once mighty beast to a city dweller's dinner protein*. Like most venison Elk is lean meat that is easily overcooked when done wrong. Luckily the grillers at B&B did it right. The meat was indeed lean but also full flavored, a bit gamey and oddly reminiscent of homemade burgers I grew up eating. This burger practically oozes masculinity so only order it if you're up for the test.

Brass Tacks

The burger craze has been longer lived than most of us expected. That being said I think we're better off for it because we now have a menagerie of options when it comes to this old American stand by. So if you're in the heart of Lincoln Park this winter and need something that will raise your spirits and your resting heart rate, grab a six pack stop into The Burger and The Butcher. Just don't order the cube steak.

*Most elk, bison and venison eaten in the U.S. come from ranches where herds are raised free range and grass fed. For restaurants to rely on the accuracy and cunning of American hunters would be an exercise in futility. 

Butcher and the Burger

Oh, You Fancy Huh? Part 6, Perenniality Show (Brunch)

In this wonky era of the celebrity chefdom and over scrutinization of food, it's easy to elevate our expectations to ridiculous heights for everyday stuff like brunch. What started out as an easy way for dinner focused restaurants to turn the weekend's unused produce, leftover meats, tired servers, and worn out cooks into profitable daytime business during an otherwise slow part of the week has turned into a full fledged meal with full fledged followings and expectations.

But it would appear that Paul Virant of Perennial Virant is one of the few chefs looking to buck this long standing trend. The brunch menu at Perennial reflects much of the simple yet inspired seasonal cuisine that the dinner menu has received so much laud over. Our Saturday morning was as lovely as it gets this time o' year and the food was flowing as though it was... liquid food.

Food

––Sticky Bun––

If the powerful and politically well connected industrial tycoons who run Cinnabon ever found out about this almost perfect confection-like breakfast treat then I might be fearing for Paul Virant's safety right now. Fortunately for him they have no idea of this website's existence (yet). Intense caramel flavor paired with candied pecans and a cloudish consistency to the bun itself are just three of the things I liked about this, the other eighty-seven will be published in my forthcoming sticky bun text book.

––Apple Bread––

For most of recorded history banana bread has been the, pardon the phrase, top banana of the fruit/bread class of baked goods. At last, there is a serious contender and she is delicious Golden Delicious...This apple and bread marriage was so moist it was almost as if it was summoning moisture from the air (a property called hygroscopy, common amongst sweet breads). Its puddingesque moisture was complimented by a spiced cherry compote and a house made whipped cream. It was a simple dessert but a good dessert. Also, we ate it at the beginning of the meal, like true hedonists. 

––The Sandwich––

In this case the sandwich (a bold move by Virant, naming it that) in question was a duck breast reuben with house made sauerkraut, Russian dressing (a.k.a., thousand island), gruyere, and some pickled vegetable accouterments for that acidic punch that is often missing from reubens of this type. The sandwich was robust, rustic and respectful (that statement is both accurate and alliterative at the same time). Sour and fat notes were big but balanced up front and the duck breast was beautifully tender.

––The Southern––

Another mysteriously vague name above another finely tuned and thoughtful brunch offering. The Southern is house smoked ham, spicy kale, poached eggs and creamy grits. The flavor comes mostly from mild mustard seed, the delicately smoked ham and those rich, emulsifying eggs. It was delicious and understated and the best flavor balanced plate of the morning.

––The Signature––

If looking at this picture doesn't make your mouth water then we aren't friends. At least not the kind of friends I thought we were. Breakfast doesn't get much more unhealthy than mushroom gravy, buttermilk smashed potatoes and a Dietzler Farm chicken fried steak, but it also doesn't get much more knee-bucklingly good. The devastating richness of the dish was accented playfully by rosemary and savory. Please drink water with this.

––Homeboys––

The easy thing to do would be to make an "average home boy" joke here, however the writing on this website is above such demeaning and trite humour (also, we spell humor the British way, because we're classy). Homeboys are fries. Let's just get that mystery out of the way. These hand cut fries are deep fried, salted and served with brunkow cheese curds. Refreshingly unrefreshing in a way that only bonafide midwestern food can be. It was greasy, salty, and I can still feel it in my arteries.

Drinks

While coffee and orange juice are fine and good on most mornings, brunch offers the rare weekly opportunity where it's appropriate to consume cocktails before noon in public. Perennial's cocktail list is small but it is good.

Big Brass Bed– While there wasn't anything big or brassy about this slick combination of Lillet Blanc, Cocchi Americano, and Marigold liqueur there was a lot smooth golden flavor. The first two ingredients were at one time interchangeable as Cocchi was basically an Italian version of the the French quinquina Kina Lillet which in the mid eighties the makers of Lillet removed the quinine from the recipe. But I digress. What this cocktail is in essence is a light, slightly bitter and fruited appetite inducing wine. I would have drunk five of them if they didn't bring the food out so damn fast.



Paul's Brunch Punch #2– All this little dandy is is mutsu apple puree, spiced rum, and cayenne syrup. It tasted like boozy liquid apple pie. Which part of that sentence didn't sound good to you?!

Conclusion

Searching for a brunch that will blow your socks off seems like a fools errand to me. There's just too much emphasis in the food world on dinner by chefs, managers or owners and petulant food bloggers alike. However, even a modest amount of attention to brunch goes a long way as my experience at Perennial shows. Maybe it's my palate but it seemed to me that most of the food on Virant's brunch menu is heavy, I mean it's good but I felt weighed down afterwards. So next time you're at the LPZ or get out of your Second City morning classes early head over to Perennial for a brunch that'll make you break a locally sourced sweat.

Perennial Virant

Oh You Fancy, Huh? Part 5, Can't Hearty Wait

Chicago is not Paris. Nor is it Bangkok, Madrid or Chichicapa. It's the biggest city in America's very big heartland. We Americans tend to have big attitudes, big ambitions and big appetites; not to mention some very respectable culinary traditions of our own. So, rise up fellow Ameriphiles and embrace your foods, your home, and your girth!

Or so the people at Hearty would like you to believe. This Lakeview/Buena Park dining destination invests almost all of its energy into rethinking the big Americana classics that many of us grew up on. Examples range from beefaroni (with braised short rib, raw cheese spaetzle, and roasted squash and tomato) to Old Bay crab dip to chopped liver. Let the reinvention begin!

Food

–Rabbit Corn Dog–

If bacon is the new black then rabbit is the new gingham. The Hearty boys put this poor wasically varmant on a stick, breaded him and deep fried him till he was golden brown and delicious. He did not die in vain however. It would be cliché to say this dish elevates the corn dog to new heights so I'll save that for another post. A more accurate description is that it comes across as a very well put-together blueberry waffle and sausage breakfast...but I ate it for dinner!

–Fried Green Tomato Caprese–

There are two ways to make a caprese salad better: 1. Dehydrate the ingredients so they can survive the extremes of space travel and be rehydrated at a later time while suspended in zero gravity, 2. deep fry something. Hearty chose option number two and for the most part, they succeeded. There was a dearth of balsamic vinegar which shifted the flavor focus to the intensely flavored tomato jelly which was either really good or I just can't read my own handwritten notes.

–Ribs of Some Kind or Sort–

As I failed to write down what this dish is called so we're going to play the game where you make up your own name! (Submit comments in the comment section or your own personal diary). While the ribs possessed a tenderness that sent shivers down my spine, the dry rub was forgettable and the slaw was more pointless and boring than a marshmallow gun dual.

–Lobster Pot Pie–

It doesn't take a Nobel Prize winning Foodicist to come up with a pot pie that replaces the carte blanche of chicken with the impressionistic crustacean the Spanish call la langosta. The challenge comes in making the dish intrinsically delish rather than just another upscaled food novelty. The hearty bois' succeeded in some aspects of this with a perfectly flakey pastry top and subtlety citrusy and creamy filling. The lobster was abundant but wasn't outstanding to this otherwise text book pot pie.

–Ahi Tuna Casserole–

Ah, tuna casserole. A dish with a much besmirched name and dwindling yet strong following. In my house growing up it was a polarizing meal to say the least. My mom loved making and eating it while my dad made no secret of the fact that he thought it smelled like warmed cat food. The kids (and it's always the kids that suffer) were forced to play both sides; dismissing it when dad was home and embracing like a long lost household pet when mom had us to herself. This dish turned up the fancy (like Hearty does) by incorporating fresh Ahi tuna in place of the Bumble Bee Albacore variety that's typically used. The rest of the so called improvements made little difference to my tastebuds, the overall impression was delicate, sweet and lacking in complexity and depth. Call me a brown nose but I prefer mom's.

–Moxie Chicken–

Moxie, the force of character and vibrancy, is exactly what Bill Clinton's first grade teacher said he had too much of and look where he ended up...married to the Secretary of State. This chicken also has the chops and wherewithal to marry a prominent Cabinet member someday if it so chooses. Mixing a multilayered sauce with perfectly roasted chicken and cheddar cayenne funnel cake made this sassy plate the favorite of the evening. Frankly, I don't understand why we aren't eating funnel cake with every meal as it is a perfect food not to mention an Atkins friendly option for fair goers this Fall season.*

Conclusion
Hearty's zest for rethinking ol' timers is nothing if not laudable. Every dish is imbued with an energetically fun spirit that almost, almost, makes up for the inevitable shortcomings that occur in almost every dish I sampled. They're prices may seem steep to some but, in the view of this reporter, reflect their dedication to locally sourced produce rather than an inflated ego.

*Truth be told I never paid attention to the Atkins diet and thusly am not sure what it entails exactly or if people are still following it.

Hearty

Seasons Shmeasons, Part 3: Minnesota State Fair Fare

With summer making an abrupt and rainy exit GBGB decided to send our Chief State Fair Correspondent and resident ginger, Kara Leslie, to the land o' lakes for their annual summer/fall send up to all things decadent and wholesome. Enjoy

Ahh, Minnesota. A land of genetically identical cities, abounding lakes, Prince, and the gastronomical creation (really more like REVELATION), the Juicy Lucy. And I'll come back to that ethereal marvel when my mouth stops watering, but first and foremost I must give explanation of how I found myself in the Great Lake State*.

Labor Day weekend was fast approaching and I said to myself, "barbecues shmarbecues, cool it with all the diet foods!" as I typically do when surrounded grilled corn on the cob and fruit salad, so I took it upon myself to find a locale that offered me few low-calorie options.

One Google-search led to another, and before I knew it I was entering the gates of (no Internet involvement--this was the REAL DEAL) the Minnesota State Fair, where non-deep fried food goes to die. On a stick. In the best way possible.

I stuck my ear into some fried-food loving circles surrounding state fair fare, if you will (and please do), and was amped and I mean AMPED to test some of the delicacies I’d heard such wonders about.

One of the first things that shook me from my shocked, doe-eyed drooling self was the equally overjoyed expressions of those carrying a peculiar-looking plastic object: a bucket, yes BUCKET, of Sweet Martha's choco-chip cookies. I also heard a rumor that this stand pulled in a whopping $2.5 mil during the two weeks of the fair alone, thus it was necessary to look into potential franchising.

And I know, I know, it went against my 'deep fried or die' mantra proclaimed across my screen-printed tee, but these puppies looked delish and I waited impatiently in line for about 15 minutes to get my hands on some.

They certainly did not disappoint--dished into the buckets directly from the cookie sheets they were warm and gooey, and were everything a chocolate cookie should be, no frills, and with a souvenir bucket to boot. It was time to continue loading on the cals!

And with that mindset, we came across an unexpected haven that fulfilled not only requirements I was seeking for the fair, but removed a very crucial item on my bucket list--Big Fat Bacon (TM) On a STICK. That's right, folks, this bacon had so much girth it stood up straight and proud on a stick. And straight and proud I certainly was as I delved into this maple-cured, smoky creation that was some of the juiciest pork that had ever touched my lips. Sidenote: truth be told, not a significant amount of pork has actually touched these smackers, but experience or not, this bacon was downright heavenly. After 4 bites or so the grease had gotten the best of us, and we were dragging our feet and ready for a long snooze. 

BRASS TACKS (to steal a term, Mr. GBGB): sharing highly recommended.

Our next venture after the initial sweet and salty overload was to get our hands on a brew, which was not difficult given the surprising number of craft breweries that call the Twin Cities their home. Summit Brewery was the lucky brewery featured at the state fair, and had the pure genius to offer shotski-like structures that allowed drinkers 3 tasting-size brews. This also meant that I was adding to my collection of state fair souvenirs. Plastic cookie bucket? Check. Beer brewski? Well, you know. I was equally excited to taste the beer and have the ability to show off my beerski to all willing friends back home. The three beers Summit offered to taste was their original brew, and most popular since their opening in 1986, the Extra Pale Ale, along with their year round Horizon Red Ale and seasonal Oktoberfest brew. The assortment of these brews paired nicely with each other, and were all equally tasty. The Extra Pale was not necessarily so in terms of color, was hoppier than your typical PA, the Horizon Red Ale was a beer hybrid of an IPA with additional amber, and the Oktoberfest brew was your standard, rich clean fall ale. A much needed respite before gorging continued. But continue, it did.

As we made our way through the remainder of the fairgrounds, it became clear that MN was willing to challenge the conventions of what could and could not be deep fried. And I was a fully-fledged participant in this real world/road rules challenge, if you know what I’m saying. This idea become completely apparent when I was riding on the SkyRide, which trolleyed you above the fairgrounds from up in the clouds. I spotted a booth that I thought I may have misread as “Deep Fried Fruit Loops,” or “Deep Fried Frog,” but was, in fact, Deep.Fried.Fruit. This DFF, as I will call it, was battered and deep fried and came on a stick complete with bananas, cherries, cantaloupe, and grapes. An oddly mixed fruit salad, but this baby was mouth-burning hot and delicious. The banana especially was the perfect, melt in your mouth texture, and the batter and sprinkling of powdered sugar complemented it oh so perfectly.

At this point, the DFF was by far the deep-fried-on-a-stick creation to beat. Therefore, when Deep Fried Alligator was spotted? My thoughts were as follows: “Yep. Let’s do this.” The line was at least 50 feet deep, so this stand seemed like a seasoned winner. The batter surrounding the alligator was peppered which gave it a nice kick, but the meat itself was chewy and rotten-tasting. Even spicy ketchup failed to mask the gross meat flavor. The alligator morsels were also served with hush puppies, typically a tried and true favorite, but these unfortunately tasted like sand.

We washed the alligator and sand puppies down with another beerski and concluded our entire day’s eating with a generous portion of Pepto Bismol. The Minnesota State Fair Fare, on the whole, pulled out all the stops in terms of deep fried food, battered, and on a stick, respectively, and is an event I would definitely consider attending again next year. Because doing this more than once a year would be gluttonous.

*it’s actually the ‘Land of 10,000 Lakes,’ but who wants to exaggerate?

*a Juicy Lucy is a hamburger stuffed with cheese and/or other delicious ingredients including but not limited to garlic, bacon, chilies, bacon, and bacon.

We're Just Ordinary People: Part 7, Shack, Rattle, and Roll

Stumbling through Chicago's culinary jungle can be daunting. So much finery, so much posturing, so much short rib. Sometimes we bushwhackers of the gastro-underbrush just want to put down our machete-like cutlery and unwind with a six pack, some kimchi, and a few trusty comrades.

It is in this spirit that we discuss Belly Shack. This second creation from Billy Kim is similar to its older brother Urban Belly in that it's BYOB and focuses on Asian (mostly Korean) inspired dishes in a casual setting. The setting is more fast food than communal dining. More industrial than cozy and warm. You can order every item on the menu and pay with a c-note and some coins (you should tip though, so maybe a Hamilton or two should be tossed in). There's little pageantry and most of the emphasis is placed in the taste rather than the presentation. Dig in!

Grub

–Korean Dog–

The hot dog itself is straight Chicago-street-food. My best guess is Vienna Beef or their rival Red Hot Chicago are the makers of the sausage. The ramen noodles are crunchy and provide the textural contrast that I'm always hunting for. Like any good Korean dish there was kimchi and it was good and spicy and sweet. If you crave more flavor then its only a dip away thanks to the spicy asian mustard that's served on the side. 

–Korean BBQ Beef–

If there was a disappointment in the meal it was this dish. The parts– wildly gamey beef, tangy kimchi, fluffy and agrarian pita bread– were wonderful but when put together worked about as well as Zeus worked with the other gods on Mount Olympus (if you thought I was above classical mythology similes then you were wrong). In this case the beef is Zeus, as usual.

–Asian Pork Meatball Sandwich–

I tried and tried to take a pretty picture of this sandwich because it tasted pretty. But I failed miserably. It's ugly. It looks like someone pulled a sea monster out of the depths, cut its head off and served it to you as a sandwich. Glad I got that out of the way. The bread was beautifully crafted and served as a great vehicle for the slightly sweet meatballs and the surprisingly cold but awesome somen noodles and mint. So don't let your deep set visual prejudices get the better of you and try this sandwich.

–Brussels Sprouts and Chrorizo–

If I made a list of the best things I ate this year this would be on there. This is a one stop shop for your daily dose of brussels sprouts and Chorizo. A beautiful mess is the best way to sum up this winner of a side. Eating this harmonic cacophony of spice, meaty robustness and stout vegetal notes made me angry that Bill Kim hasn't won a James Beard award yet.

–Quinoa Ssam Salad–

The girl behind the counter told us these were a version of lettuce wrap where, I'm guessing, quinoa and portobello take the place of whatever mystery-meat filling is usually used for lettuce wraps. Job well done. Flavors included tang (from the kimchi), smoky sweetness (from the portobello) and hearty grain notes (from the quinoa, and maybe the beer that we were drinking).

Brass Tacks
"Talk about bang for your buck" or "Who knew that fast food could be so gourmet?!" That's what they want me to write. You know it. I know it. Well fuck them, I write from my heart and shoot from my hip here. The food was first rate and the atmosphere, though at times cold and industrial, was made pleasant by all the esprit de corps that filled the kimchi-scented air. The next time you're on the blueline headed to O'Hare and you get a bit famished, take a pit stop at Western and say hi to Belly Shack.

Belly Shack

We're Just Ordinary People: Part 6, I Be-dee I Be-dee I Be-dee...Brunch

Brunch is a spellbinding attraction for many. That lazy-ass meal idly wavering between breakfast and lunch that only comes out to play on the weekends. Now-a-days Brunch has become so ubiquitous that restaurants have to separate themselves from the rest of the french toast and omlette crowd somehow...someway.

At Old Town Social the effort comes in the form of a southern twist. The brunch menu is peppered with southern specialties like biscuits, grits, and greens we don't usually eat up here in yankee country. Was this enough to get me out of bed? Maybe. Was it close enough to my house to overcome my day-off-lazyness? Yes!

Lreakfast

–shrimp & grits–

Misconceptions abound about shrimp and grits but I'm not familiar with them so we'll move on. Essentially this classic southern combination is a culinary enigma that is both hard to mess up and difficult to get just right. David Garbuz, the man responsible for ordering this, went against one of my cardinal rules and modified this dish by adding bacon to it. Despite my initial fury this turned out to be a stroke of genius (who knew adding another pork product to a gravy that already included Tasso ham would be appropriate). The best and most concise description of this plate is that it's the best hangover food I've ever come across.

–BLT Eggs Benedict–

My counterpart who ordered this and was way too enthusiastic about the blog wanted me to write that it was a hearty and wonderful departure from the traditional bullshit that they call benedict. So I did. Just now. A seductive and refreshingly tempered roasted tomato hollandaise sauce was the highlight of the dish for me. 

–grilled sausage and waffles–

At ten in the morning on a saturday food like this makes my knees quake. There's house-smoked sausage on top of the waffle. There's bacon inside the waffle. I'll repeat. There's bacon inside the waffle. I didn't touch the syrup that came with the dish. I completely forgot about it. So there you go.

–charcuterie board a.k.a. A Plate of Meat–

One of the most interesting aspects of Old Town Social is that they cure their meat in house. To leave without trying some of them would have been an injustice. So here's to the meat:

Rillette- The richness of this dish was understated and the coupling with giardiniera was very nice.

Pastrami- I like pastrami in the same way most people like sunshine. It brightens my day. Too much of it can hurt me, but in general it's a good thing. OTS' pastrami was delicate and mild and tasty...and good. I like pastrami.

Pepperone- Not to be confused with its cousin Pepperoni, or is it? It's earthy, unhinged flavor was highlighted by a pop of paprika right in the middle. 

Chorizo- A misunderstood meat, Chorizo is often eaten in the cheapest and most over-spiced iterations available. This version downplayed the heat and emphasized the dried chili peppers and slightly herbal flavors that usually get drowned out. 

Summer Sausage- When in Rome do as the Romans do. When in summer, eat summer sausage. And we did. It was garlicky, aromatic and tender in a way that other sausages would be jealous of. 

Drunch

There are no drink specials at OTS but the fact that they offer a sazerac as one their three cocktail options is special.

Mimosa- Pulpy and fresh this largely simple drink didn't wow me but when was the last time a mimosa wowed you?

Bloody Mary- The ridiculous garnish of cured meat, cheese and okra was the highlight of this drink. It lacked the heat one usually associates with the Bloody Mary.

Sazerac- This is not a morning cocktail in the way that the above drinks are. It's a complex cocktail that intertwines the flavors absinthe, Peychaud's bitters, and, most importantly, Rye whiskey. It's very good.

Brass Tacks
Brunch is rarely spectacular and Old Town Social doesn't do much to change that. It was fun and the food was good. I would be lying if I said that me and my comrades weren't fighting off the demons we called up the night before. So, then, we were blessed (rather than cursed) with a bevy of salt, meat and a touch more alcohol. This is brunch's primary function: to bring together people to reminisce, heal and eat unhealthy food slowly. In this capacity Old Town Social was a great host.

Old Town Social

Oh You Fancy, Huh? Part 4, Saw-She-Me!

Most of us feign an interest in sushi. Sure, we eat it. We even crave it occasionally and can tell a good piece of fatty tuna from a bad one. Consumption alone, however, does not a connoisseur make. Few of us, myself included, plumb the depths of this simple yet infinitely complex world of Japanese inspired seafood. What we seek, then, is that rare establishment that offers a delicious repertoire of food coupled with a spirit of education.

With this in mind I made a midweek sojourn over to the very well regarded Arami in Ukranian Village. The guys who created Small Bar  and The Exchange (Ty Fujimura and Troy Fujimura) are responsible for this understatedly stylish and well lit restaurant. They brought in Tsunami/Aria alum Byung Park to head the kitchen. The combined efforts of these esteemed men has garnished more than its fair share of critical/popular adoration and, thusly, I decided to give them the ol' up and down.

Criteria

It's sometimes hard to separate good sushi from great sushi.
My rules are simple, strong and jaunty.
1. Good sushi uses fresh fish. Great sushi uses really fresh fish that is of the highest quality (less than five days out of the water, no odor other than seawater and minor floral and fruit notes). Linguistically speaking, sushi refers to rice and sashimi refers to fish but what am I? A Japanese dictionary? No.
2. Good sushi is flavorful. Great sushi accentuates natural fish flavors without overly depending on additives like mayonnaise, tempura, wasabi or soy sauce1.
3. Good sushi uses rice. Great sushi uses high quality, sticky, and minimally seasoned short grain rice and not too much of it.
4. Good sushi can be cheap. Great sushi usually costs a bit more. Consider what you're eating: raw fish2. This stuff doesn't keep well (so chefs can't order large quantities of it in advance without damaging quality) and requires passionate and well trained people to prepare it correctly (i.e., they are usually more expensive to employ).

Shokuhin
All food and drink was ordered with expressed verbal consent of Ms. Allie Kim: former employee and good friend of Arami. Thanks, Allie.

Hot

–saké mussels–

Our ordering of mussels was directly informed by the day of the week. You see, Tuesday is the best day to eat seafood. Anywhere. Fish markets on both coasts are closed on Sundays (and sometimes Mondays) so the really fresh product usually arrives first thing Tuesday morning. These saké soaked bivalves were distinctly rich, buttery and very (get used to reading this word) fresh. The saké added a ricey flavor to a broth that typically features either wine or beer. 

Cold

–spicy tako springroll–

Vietnam found its way on to Arami's menu and, if the people have any say, it will stay firmly planted there. These surprisingly acidic and hot li'l packages were fresher than early Will Smith and packed some sneaky heat on the back end. The only let down was an overly sweet aioli that distracted from the other  flava-flavors.

–togarashi seared tuna–

If Arami had a signature dish it would be this. I'd usually frown upon using a Meyer-lemon crema on rare tuna but it added beautiful bright and rich nuances to this dish's flavor profile. The tuna was (Mannie) Fresh and the togarashi added a slowly unfolding spicy complexity that makes you think about each bite long after it's gone.

Ramen and Rice

–arami ramen–

If you come to Arami on a tight budget and want to leave full and satisfied then simply order this pork-belly-centered bowl of warmth and joy. The dynamic duo of sweet and salty play the lead parts in this soupy opera. They're joined by a wonderful supporting cast of smoky (pork belly) and rich (egg). Just for fun, the scene-stealer kimchi is thrown in the mix. If I gave out stars, this would have a bunch.

–braised short rib donburi–

If elegant, meaty simplicity is what you seek than look no further than the omnipresent short rib. The most complex bite has a good helping of the tender and rich short rib, a ring of the slightly spicy fresno chile, and healthy base of perfectly cooked rice underneath. There's not much more to say about it than that. 

Maki

–hirame spicy tako–

This fluke topped delight was the minimalist star of the food parade as far as I'm concerned. The delicate sea-ish flavors of the octopus were reflected in the fuji apple and vinaigrette that accompanied it. This is a testament to how good a clean and simple maki can be.

–shrimp tempura asparagus–

These torched kissed little devils were warm, spicy and very satisfying. The green stuff on top is dried nori which not only aids digestion but also improves eye sight and resting heart rate3. The surprise of this dish was the salmon that's snuck in where you least expect it. I won't ruin the surprise though.

–unagi maguro–

A flash fried freshwater eel was the star of this show. The savory scallions were a nice counterweight to the understatedly spiced and very fresh tuna tartare that sits proudly on top. This is another maki that is slightly warm in some places and cold in others, a trend that emerged repeatedly in Arami's food.

–zuke sake hotate–

An unabashed crowd pleaser, this creamy and homey salmon-wrapped dish lived a short but glamorous existence on our table. The spicy scallop sits inside waiting to unleash its mild heat explosion on your tongue. The salmon was beautifully marbled and perfectly marinated. The rock it was served on was inedible.

Sashimi

–chef's choice–

Pictures can't capture the show stopping nature of this piece. It belongs on a tropical island populated solely by Care Bears and spear fisherman. I was so dazzled by its presentation that all I had written in my notes about the actual food was the word "wow" followed by what I can only guess is a primitive version of sanskrit. 

–secret hamachi–

Hamachi maybe one of the most underrated fish in the sushi gamut. Truffle oil maybe one the most overrated/overused things in cooking right now. The matchup made gave me pause. Luckily, the guys on the line were reserved in their use of the highly pungent oil and the fish sang its song unencumbered. I count this as a win in the ongoing war that truffle oil is waging against my taste buds. 

–akami ankimo–

This grapefruit-looking slab of flesh is tuna. The white stuff on top is monkfish foie gras (the only edible part of monkfish are their tail muscle and their liver). The overall flavor was frosh-fresh and slightly metallic with a rich and complex overtone that I'm assuming was a direct product of the foie gras. I wasn't crazy about it but I still respect it, damnit.

–sake garlic–

The vinegar soaked salmon and delicate garlic blended as seamlessly as a seamless sock. Oh, you haven't heard of seamless socks? They are normal socks turned inside out so the seams are on the outside rather than on the inside rubbing against your feet. Didn't think you'd be getting sock advice, did you? Learn something new every day. That's my motto.

–katsuo tatake–

As you can see katsuo looks like tuna (it's sometimes called striped tuna). Its flavor is less steaky and when prepared properly it practically melts in your mouth. This version was prepared properly. The citrusy syrup coats everything but doesn't overwhelm anything and the mountain root vegetables warm as they go down your throat. Maybe that was the saké. I'd had a lot of saké at this point.

Arukōru

–beer–

What do you call the beer list at Arami? Culturally specific? Selective? Eclectic? I'm stumped. All I know is it's good. We sampled five of their rare and unique brews (from left to right):

-Baird Red Rose Amber Ale: a lager brewed ale; say what? Biscuity. Sweet. Pine-hoppy.

-Ginga Kogen Beer: Problematic nose (smells like skunked Heineken). Bananas. Silky body.

-Hitachino Classic Pale Ale: Deceptively smooth (7% ABV). Saké-ish flavor. Not hoppy.

-Hitachino White Ale: Orangey. Elegant. Thicky thick.

-Hitachino Real Ginger Brew: Ginger doesn't hide. Big Amplitude, short frequency. A novelty.

–wakatake onikoroshi–

We started out the meal with this saké–who's name means "demon slayer"–and its bold flavors of cream, almond and pineapple smack you in the face and then ask you if you want some more. You do. The mouth feel is full bodied, oily and dry. Like most quality sakés this was served cold in small cups that could be shot but are meant to be sipped. The names "junmai daiginjo"on the label indicate that this is pure rice wine with no distilled alcohol added during the brewing process. 

–Akitabare–

Akitabare means "northern sky" in Japanese. Honestly, I don't remember at what point in the meal we drank this saké. We had a about four different kinds over the course of the meal but, according to my notes, I really liked this one. It is filtered clear and had wonderfully palate cleansing properties. It was very light and thin in terms of texture. My notes stop there (did I mention we drank a lot at this dinner?). I could say it paired well with simple seafood but that would be conjecture on my part and guessing is frowned upon here at GBGB.

Kakushin

To say I was impressed with Arami would be a disservice to my experience there. I was overwhelmed. We tried almost everything on the menu and barely took time to breathe. Was it the best sushi in Chicago (like so many have written and said)? I'm not sure. What I can say for sure is that it was an event and I can say three things without hesitation:
1. Everything tasted good.
2. Nothing dissapointed.
3. Go there and try it for yourself, you'll leave happy. What more can I say?

Epilogue

This is the golden age of American sushi. We're living in it right now. There are two reasons for this. The first is choice; there are so many sushi places in this city that seafood themed Japanese (nigiri, unami, hamachi, mono, etc.) has become our official second language. The second reason is acceptance; everyday people have never been more receptive to the idea of eating uncooked fish. All of this is good because it means restaurants have to bring out good product every night because, friends, we have been to the mountain top and we have seen the light!

1.A note about creativity: sushi was never intended to be a complicated cuisine. All this heavy dosing of miso, spicy mayo, tempura crunch and sticky-sweet syrups is a result of using poor quality fish and rice. While chefs should never be restricted in terms of what ingredients they should and should not use, when it comes to sushi less is truly more.
2. If you're a responsible person, and I like to think you are, then you probably know that fish is currently an ethically tricky thing to eat. Fisheries in the Northern Atlantic and much of the Pacific have either collapsed or are in serious jeopardy of collapsing due to overfishing and environmental destruction. So, before you eat, you should check out Seafood Watch List to find out which fish are cool and which need a breather in terms of consumption.
3. These facts were made up on the spot and do not reflect the opinion of doctors or established medical research.

Arami