Oh You Fancy, Huh? Part 7: Trotting on Broken Glass

It's a sad truth that Charlie Trotter's will be closing its doors after 25 years in August. Most people know the restaurant only by reference; "blah blah blah's new chef was at Charlie Trotter's for 5 years before winning the James Beard Award," "such and such was a busser at Charlie Trotter's before entering the space program," etc. For the last 3 decades it has functioned as a the sun in Chicago's restaurant solar system by spawning and giving us perspective on fancy destination spots such as Alinea, Moto and Graham Elliott (the chef and the place), as well as everyday eateries like Hot Chocolate, 2 Sparrows and Urban Belly, to name a few.

Not many people get to eat at the actual restaurant though. The cost, for one, is prohibitive, to say the least.* Another thing is that the restaurant is small and almost constantly busy. And, lastly, it doesn't have the sex appeal that it used to. That's been taken over by places like Next, Grace, Acadia and all of those happenin' Boka restaurants. Despite all of this, I couldn't let it close without paying a visit. To me, that'd be like being in Salt Lake City on June 14, 1998 and not buying tickets to the Bulls game because it was too expensive; you rarely get a chance to witness fleeting greatness, so why would you knowingly pass it up?

But enough pitter patter already, down to business. The options at Trotter's are few. Two, actually. A vegetable menu and grand menu, both can be paired with wine for an additional gazillion dollars. We had all of it.

Food

-Salmon-
(sawkeye salmon with english cucumbers & fennel pollen)

Trotter's secret was revealed early on: use simple yet sophisticated preparations with amazing ingredients to reveal honest flavors of the main component. In this case the sawkeye's rich and silky essence was supported by the fresh cucumber and long and silky notes of the fennel foam.

-Hamachi-
(hamachi with green tomatoes, avacado & kalamata olives)

I was downright surprised that the hamachi still tasted like hamachi despite looking like something Darth Vader pooped out. If you like avocado sushi your brain would've exploded at tasting the combination of squid ink soaked hamachi and avocado mouse.

-Asparagus-
(belgian white asparagus with broccolini, piquillo peppers & cipollini onions)

We also tried the vegetable menu. This was the winner of the vegetable menu. I don't know if I'll ever have Belgian white asparagus again in my life (I assume it's hard to find or expensive) but I'll forever remember this weird combination of delicate cheese, gelée and perfectly flavored spears of asparagus.

-Halibut-
(steamed alaskan halibut with marcona almonds, acorn fed iberian ham & lemon balm)

I've never seen halibut look so much like mozzarella cheese and taste so much like halibut before. The perfect bite featured the crisp ham, soft almonds, tender fish on your fork and a big stupid grin on your face.

-Egg-
(one-hour poached hen's egg with morel mushrooms, swiss chard & licorice)

Why take one hour to poach an egg when most of us can do it in five minutes? Because it taste like a liquid tractor, if that tractor was made of expensive mushrooms, had salty/earthy swiss green wheels and was fueled by licorice. As for the difference between a hen's egg and a regular egg; nothing, it just means it didn't come from a duck or a velociraptor.

-Duck-
(muscovy duck with smoked coconut, spring onion & venezuelan chocolate)

This foul looking fowl from south of the border was a beautiful thing to behold in flavor.  The onion and chocolate partnership worked better than I ever could've imagined and if they made an ice cream out of that duck, I'd eat it. Far and away my favorite plate of the night.

-Pasta-
(miso tortellini with red cabbage, turnip confit & ponzu)

Words are just symbols of what literate societies think to be truths. I just made that up. This tortellini was immaculate but not my favorite thing to hit the table that evening. I didn't understand that turnip confit, I didn't particularly like the stewed red cabbage and there weren't enough tortellini to go around. But it was perfect.

-Antelope-
(broken arrow ranch antelope with toasted espresso, porcini mushrooms & boudin noir)

How in the hell they raise antelope on a ranch I'll never know. Those things move like the wind and have eyes that peer into your very soul. But I'll be damned if the majestic beasts didn't taste good. The knee jerk reviewer would toss the word "gamey" in at this point but that would be inaccurate and I'm no knee jerker. The flesh was seared rare and tasted milder than most venison and was a lighter accent to the deep rich boudin noir that dominated the dish.

-Sorbet and Cake-
(??)

By the time dessert rolled around Mr. Trotter himself was on his second visit to the table and I was too distracted by his bravado and jibing (he said I was a mouth breather) to take note of this particular dessert. Also when pressed on his stance on foie gras, his soliloquy was so lengthy, and my manners were so impeccable, that all of the sorbet had melted and all of the dessert wine had evaporated by the time he stopped talking. But I think it tasted good?

-Sorbet and Bread-
(meyer lemon sorbet with rosemary puff pastry & szechuan peppercorn)

Is sorbet supposed to be foamy and half melted? This is how most of the cold stuff hit our table. It may be the only criticism I have of the whole meal. This sweet plate was a nice composite of homey/savory and spiced/sweet. The texture blend was real nice.

-more sorbets and bread stuff-
(thyme glazed brioche with georgia blueberry compote & lavender blueberry sorbet AND zucchini cake & blossom with basil & saffron reduction)

I can't be blamed for not having great notes on this plate, for one it was our third dessert. Secondly it was our eighth glass of wine. Thirdly it was two desserts on one plate (one from the grand menu, one from the vegetable). I remember inhaling the brioche puff and wishing there was a pint rather than a scoop of the blueberry lavender sorbet. The zucchini cake saffron number didn't make a huge impression on me but I ate all of it, to be polite.

-Hmmmm, cake and ice cream-
(criollo cake with parsnip, red wine & candied vanilla)

Now this, this is a dessert. A black hole deep chocolate cake topped with a caviaresque Bordeaux jelly and vanilla three ways was everything you'd expect in a classic American dessert but with all the upgrades you'd expect from one of America's most iconic restaurants. Thank you, Charlie.

-Take a wild guess-

I haven't a clue what this foamy, coldish beautiful joke of a dessert is. It was all blended together and delish no doubt but I'm pretty sure I had slipped half way down my rabbit hole of a food comma by this point and I was drunk off of fancy wine and good company. If you go there and make it to this course please let me know what's in it.

-House made confections-

It was a struggle to eat these. They were good but after five dessert courses the last thing I wanted was more sweet things. I'll be damned if I didn't eat every last one of them though. They were raspberry, apricot, peanut butter and a praline, I believe.

Conclusion
Journalistic integrity and objectivism are two of the pillars that hold this site up (the other three are Wikipedia, RC Cola, and moist towlettes). So I tried my best not to be in awe of Charlie Trotter and his eponymous restaurant. I think I succeeded by and large, but I'd be lying if I didn't say my dream like expectations weren't slightly off base. I've eaten at a few really fancy restaurants in my day and I thought Charlie Trotter's, being a predecessor to many of them, would outdo them all. Instead what I experienced was a restaurant that was trying to live up to nothing other than the very high standards it set for itself twenty five years ago. Not overly flashy, and not falsely humble. Rather than striving for showmanship and glitz, honoring the food and dining experience were paramount. Overall, I was glad I tried Charlie's place before it closes in August.

Editor's Note: Charlie died today (11/5/2013). He changed the restaurant world and made really good food for 25 years in Chicago.

Charlie Trotter's

*I have to admit that I'd saved up for months to eat there. You read that right, months of saving for one meal.

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

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

Oh You Fancy, Huh? Part 3, Rick's Café

There is a smorgasbord of great restaurant/chef combinations in the Chicagoland area but few rival the success, the hype and the longevity of Rick Bayless and...

When Bayless opened it in 1987, Frontera was a revelation; before it, there simply wasn't a big time restaurant (or big time chef) whose sole focus was to showcase Mexico's culinary nuances and traditional recipes. Frontera Grill (and its fancy sister Topolobampo) has since brought Slick Rick (one of my many nicknames for him) much fame and praise: he's won nine James Beard Awards (aka Food Grammys), hosts his own PBS cooking show, won Top Chef Masters, and has written a heap of best selling cook books. Yeah, he's doing pretty well.

Well, guess what.
I don't give a shit.
Last time I checked, Bayless and his "authentic" Mexican food haven't passed my test. So, Ricky, I'll see your 3 successful restaurants, army of loyal followers, and flawless goatee and raise you one low-budget blog review. GAME ON!

Me and my Mexican-born dining companion (future Master of Dietetic Science, Cristain Alejandro Mendoza) sauntered up to Frontera at high noon on a Friday and threw down the gauntlet (oh, you best believe I brought the Foodlosophy Scale of Excellence out for this one).

Small Plates

--Coctel de Atun--

why isn't this glass bigger?!

Sashimi-grade yellowtail Ahi, mango-grapefruit salsa and tomatillo guacamole were mixed together to make this marvel of freshness. I hate to cave into hyperbole but everything from the rich avocado, to the tangy grapefruit and tomatillo, to the steaky/freshness of the yellow tail were a picture of flavor balance. I could eat this every day for the rest of my life. Round 1 to you, Rickster. I give this a HEFAP1.

--Tamal de Elote--

Two sweet corn tamales steamed in banana leaves, topped with homemade crema, queso fresco and wood grilled poblano peppers was lighter than the ingredients would suggest and sweeter than I thought it would be. A strong dish, but probably the weakest of the day. I give this small plate a grade of SACCASI2.

--Guacamole--

No pictures necessary here as this guac looks like almost any other guac. But it separates with itself with its perfect consistency (not too chunky, not too smooth), lack of overbearing limey-citrus flavor (lime is meant to keep guacamole from turning brown, not drown out other flavors), and balance of creamy and salty flavors. I give it a grade of AOBAG3.

Sides

--Cebollitas Asadas--

Mr. Mendoza gets credit for ordering both sides, including this one. Normally I wouldn't go near something like this; it's just lime seasoned grilled green onions. But I found them refreshing, delicious, and perfect in their simplicity. Definitely a HGAG4.

--Verduras en Escabeche--

When this was put on the table I said it looked like giardiniera. Essentially that's what it is. Pickled jalapeños, cauliflower, carrots and onions. That's all there is to it. But that's all it needs to be. Its spicy-vinegariness makes it an excellent palate cleanser in the same vein as sushi's pickled ginger. This side earned a grade of ADCFTC5.

Main Dishes

--Pato en Clemole Castellano--

Everyone and their mamma knows I'm a sucker for duck. It's chicken's more flavorful, moister, more amphibious counterpart and it should have it's own public holiday (oh wait). This dish celebrates duck to the Nth degree through precise cooking and a expertly blended flavors. The Gunthorp Farms breast meat is smoky, slightly gamey and has a low intensity heat (thanks to the chili rub) that lingers in the mouth like out-of-town businessmen linger in an airport T.G.I. Friday's. But Frontera didn't stop there, they kicked it up a notch by placing the perfectly cooked breast meat on top of a bread pudding-like sweet-iroquois-corn torta that is anchored in a sea of spicy-rich clemole. I could write a sonnet about this dish, but I forgot how and don't care to look it up, that's why I have this blog. Oh, there were also green beans. I give this dish a grade of HIJOLE6.

--Mixiote de Borrego--

Check out the picture if you want to know what a mixiote is, it's that neat little parchment paper package on the plate. But, just like new acquaintances and Tootsie Pops, it's what's inside that counts. In this case, it's a Gunthorp Farms lamb shoulder that's slow cooked with ancho-pasilla sauce and giant butter beans (aka lima beans). The result is a super tender, smoky, sweet and dark concoction that you wish there was more of. Ricky Ricardo and his team could've left it at that but instead they added a bushel of fresh frisee and watercress that bring some much appreciated astringency to the party and effectively balance out the whole freaking thing. This plate is only available on Fridays, so plan accordingly. I give this dish a grade of USFAGTPS!7.

Dessert

--Sopa de Frutas--

Sopa is Spanish for soup. Frutas is Spanish for fruit. De is Spanish for Awesome (that's my best guess). So this dish's name roughly translates to "awesome fruit soup" and I couldn't agree more. The hibiscus sorbet sits contently in a cold lemongrass broth dotted with cilantro. They float tangerine and Meyer lemon gelatinas around in the liquid for good measure. The result is a tangy, effervescent and refreshing dessert that makes you feel less guilty about the pound of rich-spicy food you just inhaled. The sweet treat gets a grade of BAMF8.


Dranks

Marisol, I like it... a lot.

-Blue Agave Margarita: It's just three things: Cazadores Blanco, Cointreau and lime juice. That's all you need. It's sour, a touch toasty, lean, citrusy-boozy, and possesses a distinct lack of sweetness that I really admire.
-Mezcal Margarita: I was feeling a little wacky when I ordered this blend of Torres brandy, Peychaud's bitters, limonada, and, of course, that bastard tequila cousin turned well-to-do artisan spirit known as Mezcal. It was smoky with hints of plum and caramel finished with a touch of citrus. Me gusta.
-Marisol: Get this: you can only get this Belgian style wheat ale at Frontera. That's because Goose Island9 makes it only for Frontera. Frontera and Goose Island are, like, best friends. Which is nice. Anyways, I had three of them over the course of the afternoon and, as far as I can remember, it was creamy, crisp, fruity, versatile, and very food friendly.

Authenticity Report
According to my inside man, Cristian, Frontera's food was fantastic in both its respect for Mexican culinary tradition and in quality of ingredients used (including the use of Mexican avocados. Oh, he can tell the difference, don't try him). He was taken back to his childhood by the cebollitas (a favorite childhood snack), the verduras, and the guacamole, while being impressed by the ingenuity of the coctel and the borrego. It wasn't all glowing nostalgia, however. Cristian thought many dishes, notably the pato and the tomal lacked the heat he was expecting while the tortillas, while clearly housemade, were lacking in both robust corn flavor and hearty firm texture. Overall, he gives Ricky and his crew two thumbs up.

Bottom Line
Like my south-of-the-border-hermano, I was impressed by Frontera. I had absurdly high expectations going in and was prepared to be underwhelmed by an overhyped restaurant. Nothing could be further from the the truth, Frontera has managed to keep their food bold yet balanced (this is the fifth time I've used that word), their manner affable, and their bathrooms clean (didn't think I would comment on that did ya, Ricky?! Well I did! Ha!). In the end, I have to take my metaphorical toque off to RBay and his team and, because I know they all read my blog religiously, give a shout out to our stellar baritone-voiced server Alfredo. Also, a big gracias to Mr. Mendoza for his insight, his company, and his fashion tips (we have the same bike helmet).

*In case you didn't catch it, this review's title is a reference to Casablanca, if you haven't seen it then do yourself a favor and get some culture.


1. Healthy, Engaging, Fresh and Perfect
2. Sweet And Corny Creamy and Smoky-Intuitive
3. An Oldy But A Goody
4. Humble Green And Great
5. A Discerning Choice For True Connoisseurs 
6. hijole, that's all I've got to say about that.
7. Unwrap Some Fun And Get This Party Started!
8. Bubbly And Memorable Finish.
9. Goose Island was sold to InBev subsidiary Anheuser Busch the day after I posted this, thereby making them less cool and much less local. Just thought you should know.

Frontera