Bourbon Tasting
Guest Notes from Harry V
[Bourbon is one the preferred beverage choices of the Chowhounds, myself included. Through the encouragement of the poster ab, and extra efforts of AaronD, a tasting was arranged at Delilah's bar in Chicago. I could not attend to my strong regret, but I am lucky enough to be able to share Harry V's detailed tasting notes.]
If no one else cares to weigh in, I'll take a crack at describing the
tasting. Samples were 1.5 ounces (i.e., one shot), poured into
straight-sided glasses tall enough to capture their aromas. The lineup was
as follows:
1. GEORGIA MOON CORN WHISKEY. Mike Miller, owner of Delilah's and emcee for
the event, began with this whimsical selection so as to demonstrate the
flavor of 100% corn whiskey (of course bourbons, to be labelled as such,
must be made of more than 50% corn). It was the color of pale straw, to my
senses it smelled of weak tequila and tasted like very light rum. A ringer.
2. W.L. WELLER 12-YEAR BOURBON. The first three actual bourbons sampled
represent those in which corn is supplemented with wheat, rather than the
more usual rye. To me this one had a bright, pleasantly acidic aroma with
hints of honey, and a very wheaty flavor suffused with black pepper. Very
nice.
3. MAKER'S MARK. Another wheated bourbon, this long-time favorite (of mine)
had a nice woody aroma, and a more well-rounded flavor than the Weller, less
wheaty and a little more .. well, "fruity" is what I wrote down, even though
there's no fruit in the stuff. (Surely I was still sober at this early
stage?)
4. DELILAH'S 10-YEAR SINGLE BARREL UNFILTERED BOURBON. I believe Mr. Miller
indicated that this bourbon was derived from the Van Winkle line of bourbon.
This was the last of the wheated bourbons we tried, with an elegant, well
balanced aroma (i.e., it smelled simply like bourbon), with a flavor that
was less bright than the previous two, but richer, deeper, earthier and more
well-rounded, with a much longer finish than anything we tried all night
except the two Old Potreros at the end. Excellent.
Disclosure: the next seven whiskeys, all featuring rye rather than wheat
(and most of them very modest amounts at that), didn't do much for me. So my
comments on them should perhaps be taken with more than usual dosage of
salt.
5. OLD FORESTER BOURBON. Strongly alcoholic, turpentine-like aroma; very
middle-of-the-road flavor (it should not have followed the Delilah house
brand).
6. WOODFORD RESERVE BOURBON. Aroma of apples plus turpentine; flavor was
much like that of a youngish, indifferent Speyside single-malt.
7. BASIL HAYDEN BOURBON. This had a mild, "fruity," slightly sweet aroma;
very mild, smooth flavor. Aptly described by Mr. Miller as a "ladies'
bourbon" (Joan: his words, not mine).
8. VERY OLD BARTON BOURBON. Aroma similar to the Basil Hayden, but not as
sweet, a little more turpentine (due, I would assume, to a stronger proof);
flavor was exceedingly mild, akin to Canadian whisky.
9. BUFFALO TRACE BOURBON. The least successful whiskey we tried, in my
opinion (apart from the leadoff corn squeezins). I thought it had no smell
at all, with a watery, corn-whiskey-like flavor.
10. WILD TURKEY RUSSELL'S RESERVE BOURBON. This was a good one, with a
strongly malty aroma (first sign of maltiness in the tasting; but stay
tuned) and a dark, rich, buttery flavor, slightly reminiscent of a superior
dark rum.
11. ELIJAH CRAIG 18-YEAR SINGLE BARREL BOURBON. Sweet, appley aroma with a
mellow, slightly clove-like flavor.
Last came the two Old Potreros. Initially Mr. Miller planned to serve only
the Single Malt Whiskey (from toasted barrels); but in the middle of working
himself, and us, into an ecstasy of expectation while he described its
glories, he noticed that his assistant had poured out the other Old Potrero
(from charred barrels). After a parliamentary exchange of ideas between
ourselves and he, Mr. Miller eventually came 'round to providing a sample of
the toasted-barrel Old Potrero as well.
12. ANCHOR DISTILLING "OLD POTRERO" STRAIGHT RYE WHISKEY (CHARRED BARREL).
Not much finesse here but what a blockbuster! Intense aroma of pine cones
and pine forest; a rye plus black pepper flavor of intense fullness, depth
and length; kind of like drinking a liquid Ry Krisp (but better).
13. ANCHOR DISTILLING "OLD POTRERO" SINGLE MALT STRAIGHT RYE WHISKEY
(TOASTED BARREL). This, in my opinion, was undoubtedly the finest drink
tasted. A very well-rounded, sweet, fruity, piney smell (but not
monochromatically piney like the charred Potrero); flavor of intense
maltiness - sweet, rich and peppery - just great! (And strong!)
SUPPLEMENTARY TASTING
After the official tasting was over, a few of us decided we needed to
supplement (ahem) our findings.
S1. BAKER'S. Gary Wiviott's bourbon of preference entering the tasting,
Baker's was smooth with nice flavor, a fine all-around bourbon.
S2. EVAN WILLIAMS. Aaron's preferred mixer bourbon - and I can see why.
*********
Harry V
P.S. It's too bad Mike Miller did not himself participate in the tasting, or
else by the end he might have been willing to pass around shots from his
semi-legendary 1916 bottle of Old Mock. Maybe next time.
Friday, February 13, 2004
On the Same Page as the Chicago Tribune
Sometimes I do agree with the hometown news. From the lead editorial in today's Chicago Tribune:
..."Why a jurist of Scalia's extraordinary intellect won't exercise simple good judgment is a mystery. Maybe he has concerns about setting a precedent that could overly constrict other justices.
But as is, he risks being part of what many Americans will view as a tainted decision. That can only undermine the respect and trust citizens invest in the Supreme Court.
Without question, Scalia and Cheney are entitled to a warm and loyal friendship. Under codes of conduct in other courts, Lubet says, they still could spend time together and dine at one another's houses--even with Cheney's case before Scalia's court. But an elaborate hunting trip is too tight and valuable a bonding experience for citizens to discount as simple chumminess.
Scalia needs to embrace a basic axiom of public life. An apparent conflict of interest has one thing in common with a duck: If it walks like one, it is"
Sometimes I do agree with the hometown news. From the lead editorial in today's Chicago Tribune:
..."Why a jurist of Scalia's extraordinary intellect won't exercise simple good judgment is a mystery. Maybe he has concerns about setting a precedent that could overly constrict other justices.
But as is, he risks being part of what many Americans will view as a tainted decision. That can only undermine the respect and trust citizens invest in the Supreme Court.
Without question, Scalia and Cheney are entitled to a warm and loyal friendship. Under codes of conduct in other courts, Lubet says, they still could spend time together and dine at one another's houses--even with Cheney's case before Scalia's court. But an elaborate hunting trip is too tight and valuable a bonding experience for citizens to discount as simple chumminess.
Scalia needs to embrace a basic axiom of public life. An apparent conflict of interest has one thing in common with a duck: If it walks like one, it is"
Wednesday, February 11, 2004
Eat Fire
Thai Avenue
When I was lucky enough to hook up with the LA hounds, I was most pleased with the restaurant choice proposed. Renu Nakorn. While no longer considered the most worthy of Thai restaurants in LA, it was still considered a top choice. More importantly, I eagerly anticipated my chance to eat fire. Food God, Jonathan Gold told me the Issan specialties at Renu Nakorn would sear my nostril hairs. I would eat fire. Oh how wrong he was. Renu produced a few fine dishes but not an overall great meal. And I did not eat fire.
Chowhound Zim, however, had been hot on the trail of a newish Thai place in Chicago, Thai Avenue. Zim sussed out that the people behind Thai Avenue were Issan. Well, I was convinced I could pull out of them, an entirely Issan meal. A meal that would burn down my goatee. During the course of a meal by me and a meal by the brilliant one, and several phone calls, I did manage to arrange a small banquet dedicated to eating fire. The brilliant one, though, added an especially interesting aside. While the owners of Thai Avenue were Issan, from the Northeast of Thailand, the cook was from the North. Our final menu was to include dishes both North and Northeast.
On our night of eating fire, Thai Avenue delivered three categories of dishes. Dishes on the English menu but sometimes not translated from Thai, dishes on a menu with Thai script and dishes made for us. A lot of the food featured heavy doses of red chile, but no one walked away from a dish crying. Eating fire served a bettor purpose. It woke us up to a full range of flavors, bits of sweet, near rancid, quite-pungent. Also, the fire came fast and furious early, so later in the night, as course after course came by, it seemed a something that never really happened.
From the menu written in English but not necessarily translated, we had the following spicy dishes: beef salad, exploded catfish salad, chicken laab, bamboo shoot salad, and papaya salad with preserved crabs. The crab gives the salad a taste almost of bilge water, but actually, unlike other times when having the dish this way, the sea did not overpower. Instead, looking like a bad case of measles, the papaya salad's cover of red chile made it too hard to focus on any other taste sensations. I really liked Thai Avenue's exploded catfish salad, Thai Captain Crunch as we have come to call this dish of crispy catfish essence. At Thai Avenue, the crunch seemed to float above the salad and dressing, so that you got both parts but at separate moments. I also liked the beef salad totally intertwined with fresh mint, a great duo.
From the menu written in English but not necessarily translated, we had the following non-spicy dishes: fried chicken, grilled pork neck and Issan sausage. Some of the other reports of the dinner on Chowhound say the meal was not really spicy. I think it was just the changing in dishes mid-meal. After so many dishes infused with so many herbs and spices, we took a big turn to dishes of fat and chew. All three of these things were fantastic, but I liked best, the pork neck. It combined the best features of pork, the fat of bacon, with a muscular chew of a good chop. The fried chicken, nearly all wings but a stray leg, was good but not quite as good as Spoon Thai.
From the menu written only in Thai script, we had a very interesting and different dish for me. Northern style laab, done with pork. When I ate this dish, I said, in a good way, it was weird. It really had a spicing I could not quite put my finger on. I looked in Thompson's book. He has a recipe for this dish. He notes that Northern Thai cooking uses a spice from the Ash shrub that gives a numbing flavor like Szechuan peppercorns, and he actually suggests Szechuan peppercorns as a replacement in the recipe. I wonder if Thai Avenue used Szechuan peppercorns to produce that "weird" flavor. The other characteristic of Northern laab is the lack of lime in the marinade. While people scoffed at me, I call this dish, Thai sloppy joes.
Finally, Thai Avenue cooked for us, a few dishes not normally on any menu. I prodded them into "kha-nom-jean-ngyow." This is a most typical Northern Thai dish. Served, I understand, mostly as street food. It was the last dish served that night, and because of that, it lost some pizzazz. It is something that could stand on its own as A meal, like some skewed Thai version of cassolet of something. The dish consists of three components. First, there is plain, bland vermicelli noodles, a base. Second, there are assorted garnishes included flash fried chilies, tiny shreds of preserved mustard, bean sprouts and cabbage slivers. Last is the dish itself, a large pot of alternating shades of red and reddish gray. Ground pork, rectangles of pork blood, squishy cut-in-half cherry tomatoes, and the chile soaked witch's brew that bound it all together. The overall taste was mostly sour notes, the pork chunks had tang, but also, each spoonful was dominated by whatever condiments you grabbed that time.
Pic by Gwiv
The other made for us dishes, were two nam priks or chile dips. One was green from roasted jalepeno, the other red nearly entirely of shrimp paste. The former dip was served with expertly carved raw and steamed vegetables including long beans and bamboo shoots; the latter came with small fishes. Vegetables with dips are a most standard part of Thai meals, Thompson's book has a whole chapter on them, but they are something rarely seen and ordered in Thai places in Chicago (at least). A few things, I believe, limit their availability on menu's. These are hard dishes to make. The require a lot of roasting and grinding and such. Then, I think eaters often just look at these dishes as basically crudites, party food, not as something serious. Last, these can be the most aggressive, hardest tastes to handle. While the green chile dip was surprisingly mild, the red was intensely stinky. For me, these dishes are really make the meal, "Thai."
Pic by Gwiv
We finished with two desserts, one hot one cold, as our waitress suggested. Thai Avenue brought us two large punch bowls. Cold was a mixture of red jello, water chestnuts and soon-to-be-watery condensed milk. Seemed easy, but it was surprisingly good. Hot was the classic dish of steamed taro balls in coconut milk, the balls possessing that, chomp- your-gums-many-many- times-texture, that I find about ideal.
Thai Avenue clearly joined the ranks of great Thai places in Chicago. Lots more reactions to the dinner can be read starting here.
Thai Avenue
4949 N Broadway
Chicago
773-872-2222
Thai Avenue
When I was lucky enough to hook up with the LA hounds, I was most pleased with the restaurant choice proposed. Renu Nakorn. While no longer considered the most worthy of Thai restaurants in LA, it was still considered a top choice. More importantly, I eagerly anticipated my chance to eat fire. Food God, Jonathan Gold told me the Issan specialties at Renu Nakorn would sear my nostril hairs. I would eat fire. Oh how wrong he was. Renu produced a few fine dishes but not an overall great meal. And I did not eat fire.
Chowhound Zim, however, had been hot on the trail of a newish Thai place in Chicago, Thai Avenue. Zim sussed out that the people behind Thai Avenue were Issan. Well, I was convinced I could pull out of them, an entirely Issan meal. A meal that would burn down my goatee. During the course of a meal by me and a meal by the brilliant one, and several phone calls, I did manage to arrange a small banquet dedicated to eating fire. The brilliant one, though, added an especially interesting aside. While the owners of Thai Avenue were Issan, from the Northeast of Thailand, the cook was from the North. Our final menu was to include dishes both North and Northeast.
On our night of eating fire, Thai Avenue delivered three categories of dishes. Dishes on the English menu but sometimes not translated from Thai, dishes on a menu with Thai script and dishes made for us. A lot of the food featured heavy doses of red chile, but no one walked away from a dish crying. Eating fire served a bettor purpose. It woke us up to a full range of flavors, bits of sweet, near rancid, quite-pungent. Also, the fire came fast and furious early, so later in the night, as course after course came by, it seemed a something that never really happened.
From the menu written in English but not necessarily translated, we had the following spicy dishes: beef salad, exploded catfish salad, chicken laab, bamboo shoot salad, and papaya salad with preserved crabs. The crab gives the salad a taste almost of bilge water, but actually, unlike other times when having the dish this way, the sea did not overpower. Instead, looking like a bad case of measles, the papaya salad's cover of red chile made it too hard to focus on any other taste sensations. I really liked Thai Avenue's exploded catfish salad, Thai Captain Crunch as we have come to call this dish of crispy catfish essence. At Thai Avenue, the crunch seemed to float above the salad and dressing, so that you got both parts but at separate moments. I also liked the beef salad totally intertwined with fresh mint, a great duo.
From the menu written in English but not necessarily translated, we had the following non-spicy dishes: fried chicken, grilled pork neck and Issan sausage. Some of the other reports of the dinner on Chowhound say the meal was not really spicy. I think it was just the changing in dishes mid-meal. After so many dishes infused with so many herbs and spices, we took a big turn to dishes of fat and chew. All three of these things were fantastic, but I liked best, the pork neck. It combined the best features of pork, the fat of bacon, with a muscular chew of a good chop. The fried chicken, nearly all wings but a stray leg, was good but not quite as good as Spoon Thai.
From the menu written only in Thai script, we had a very interesting and different dish for me. Northern style laab, done with pork. When I ate this dish, I said, in a good way, it was weird. It really had a spicing I could not quite put my finger on. I looked in Thompson's book. He has a recipe for this dish. He notes that Northern Thai cooking uses a spice from the Ash shrub that gives a numbing flavor like Szechuan peppercorns, and he actually suggests Szechuan peppercorns as a replacement in the recipe. I wonder if Thai Avenue used Szechuan peppercorns to produce that "weird" flavor. The other characteristic of Northern laab is the lack of lime in the marinade. While people scoffed at me, I call this dish, Thai sloppy joes.
Finally, Thai Avenue cooked for us, a few dishes not normally on any menu. I prodded them into "kha-nom-jean-ngyow." This is a most typical Northern Thai dish. Served, I understand, mostly as street food. It was the last dish served that night, and because of that, it lost some pizzazz. It is something that could stand on its own as A meal, like some skewed Thai version of cassolet of something. The dish consists of three components. First, there is plain, bland vermicelli noodles, a base. Second, there are assorted garnishes included flash fried chilies, tiny shreds of preserved mustard, bean sprouts and cabbage slivers. Last is the dish itself, a large pot of alternating shades of red and reddish gray. Ground pork, rectangles of pork blood, squishy cut-in-half cherry tomatoes, and the chile soaked witch's brew that bound it all together. The overall taste was mostly sour notes, the pork chunks had tang, but also, each spoonful was dominated by whatever condiments you grabbed that time.
Pic by Gwiv
The other made for us dishes, were two nam priks or chile dips. One was green from roasted jalepeno, the other red nearly entirely of shrimp paste. The former dip was served with expertly carved raw and steamed vegetables including long beans and bamboo shoots; the latter came with small fishes. Vegetables with dips are a most standard part of Thai meals, Thompson's book has a whole chapter on them, but they are something rarely seen and ordered in Thai places in Chicago (at least). A few things, I believe, limit their availability on menu's. These are hard dishes to make. The require a lot of roasting and grinding and such. Then, I think eaters often just look at these dishes as basically crudites, party food, not as something serious. Last, these can be the most aggressive, hardest tastes to handle. While the green chile dip was surprisingly mild, the red was intensely stinky. For me, these dishes are really make the meal, "Thai."
Pic by Gwiv
We finished with two desserts, one hot one cold, as our waitress suggested. Thai Avenue brought us two large punch bowls. Cold was a mixture of red jello, water chestnuts and soon-to-be-watery condensed milk. Seemed easy, but it was surprisingly good. Hot was the classic dish of steamed taro balls in coconut milk, the balls possessing that, chomp- your-gums-many-many- times-texture, that I find about ideal.
Thai Avenue clearly joined the ranks of great Thai places in Chicago. Lots more reactions to the dinner can be read starting here.
Thai Avenue
4949 N Broadway
Chicago
773-872-2222
Friday, February 06, 2004
It's not all chow
Even though someone who shares an abode with me wishes I'd take some of my rantings and ravings about politics and such to the Internet, to make for quieter breakfasts, I am highly resistant to talk too much politics. Still, I am really, totally outraged by the following, and I do not see how anyone else cannot, regardless of your political orientation.
Supreme Court Justice Anton Scalia is hearing a case involving an individual, an individual who took Scalia on an extended hunting trip. How can Scalia, at all, not recuse himself. Where is the outrage?
The following is from the LA Times. The full story is here (registration required).
PATTERSON, La. — Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia traveled as an official guest of Vice President Dick Cheney on a small government jet that served as Air Force Two when the pair came here last month to hunt ducks.
The revelation cast further doubts about whether Scalia can be an impartial judge in Cheney's upcoming case before the Supreme Court, legal ethics experts said. The hunting trip took place just weeks after the high court agreed to take up Cheney's bid to keep secret the details of his energy policy task force.
Even though someone who shares an abode with me wishes I'd take some of my rantings and ravings about politics and such to the Internet, to make for quieter breakfasts, I am highly resistant to talk too much politics. Still, I am really, totally outraged by the following, and I do not see how anyone else cannot, regardless of your political orientation.
Supreme Court Justice Anton Scalia is hearing a case involving an individual, an individual who took Scalia on an extended hunting trip. How can Scalia, at all, not recuse himself. Where is the outrage?
The following is from the LA Times. The full story is here (registration required).
PATTERSON, La. — Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia traveled as an official guest of Vice President Dick Cheney on a small government jet that served as Air Force Two when the pair came here last month to hunt ducks.
The revelation cast further doubts about whether Scalia can be an impartial judge in Cheney's upcoming case before the Supreme Court, legal ethics experts said. The hunting trip took place just weeks after the high court agreed to take up Cheney's bid to keep secret the details of his energy policy task force.
Thursday, February 05, 2004
The Good Word
The big spread in the Chicago Tribune (registration required) surely has a bunch of people saying to themselves, hey that's me. As DougK once famously put, I've found my tribe. Not all of the people, in the tribe, however, like to shout their tips. My friend and neighbor, Mark, has been reading Chowhound for a while. He follows suggestions. He he's eaten at El Barco, Islas Marias, Garden Buffet, etc., and he has his own tips too. He turned me on to La Piazza in Forest Park. A great tip.
I've only been once, for lunch, but I can already tell it is a welcome addition to the greater Oak Park food scene. If nothing else, Piazza plays as well to parents as it does to kids, something nearby kid friendly places like Pronto Roma and Leona's cannot claim. For the kids, make your own pizza's. You start with a slab of dough which you stretch and toss; then sauce, cheese and your choice of toppings. They bake it for you, and viola, it is good too. Really nice pizza with a crust both crusty and pillowy soft--at least the way the chowhounditas made it.
Mom had a rolled and stuffed eggplant with house made pasta. Fresh mozzarella and a short cooked tomato sauce expertly garnished the dish. Dad had a sammy of chicken Milanese on fresh baked foccacia. Not a sandwich to grab. Too big and sloppy. I needed to deconstruct the chicken and its toppings, basil and above average winter tomatoes, but I still enjoyed it. Piazza breads their chicken breast with something coarse--almost like corn flakes (hey do not laugh, in yesterday's New York Times, (registration also required) it was reported that super chef David Burke coated foie gras with corn flakes). I liked the crunch, but I would have preferred a slightly thinner, pounded chicken breast.
Dinners are more expansive, not the sandwiches. I think the kid's pizza option is always there.
La Piazza
410 Circle Avenue
Forest Park, IL 60131
708.366.4010
The big spread in the Chicago Tribune (registration required) surely has a bunch of people saying to themselves, hey that's me. As DougK once famously put, I've found my tribe. Not all of the people, in the tribe, however, like to shout their tips. My friend and neighbor, Mark, has been reading Chowhound for a while. He follows suggestions. He he's eaten at El Barco, Islas Marias, Garden Buffet, etc., and he has his own tips too. He turned me on to La Piazza in Forest Park. A great tip.
I've only been once, for lunch, but I can already tell it is a welcome addition to the greater Oak Park food scene. If nothing else, Piazza plays as well to parents as it does to kids, something nearby kid friendly places like Pronto Roma and Leona's cannot claim. For the kids, make your own pizza's. You start with a slab of dough which you stretch and toss; then sauce, cheese and your choice of toppings. They bake it for you, and viola, it is good too. Really nice pizza with a crust both crusty and pillowy soft--at least the way the chowhounditas made it.
Mom had a rolled and stuffed eggplant with house made pasta. Fresh mozzarella and a short cooked tomato sauce expertly garnished the dish. Dad had a sammy of chicken Milanese on fresh baked foccacia. Not a sandwich to grab. Too big and sloppy. I needed to deconstruct the chicken and its toppings, basil and above average winter tomatoes, but I still enjoyed it. Piazza breads their chicken breast with something coarse--almost like corn flakes (hey do not laugh, in yesterday's New York Times, (registration also required) it was reported that super chef David Burke coated foie gras with corn flakes). I liked the crunch, but I would have preferred a slightly thinner, pounded chicken breast.
Dinners are more expansive, not the sandwiches. I think the kid's pizza option is always there.
La Piazza
410 Circle Avenue
Forest Park, IL 60131
708.366.4010
Next Culinary Historian Meeting
(Tell 'em VI sent ya)
“A Valentine Day’s Menu of Culinary History”
presented by Chef Fritz H. Sonnenschmidt
Author, and Culinary Dean (retired), Culinary Institute of America, Hyde Park New York
Saturday, Feb. 14, 2004, 10 a.m. to Noon at The Chicago Historical Society, 1601 N. Clark St., Chicago, Illinois
Please join us as the distinguished Chef Sonnenschmidt shamelessly regales us with his four-course menu of culinary history spiced with the kind of love and lore our organization allows only on Valentine’s Day:
1st Intercourse: History of food and how it relates to our food thoughts.
2nd Intercourse: Food legends and belief of sexual powers.
3rd Intercourse: Involvement of food in the rise and fall of nations and empires.
4th Intercourse: Food and the biggest love story of the century.
Certified Master Chef Sonnenschmidt was employed at the CIA from 1968 until his retirement in 2002. He served as a faculty member, department chair, associate director of Continuing Education and Culinary Dean. He began his culinary career as a teenage apprentice in his native Germany. He has won many awards in his long career, among them: The Escoffier Chair for Culinary Excellence; The Jerusalem Gold Medal for Culinary Excellence in Jewish Cooking; and several gold medals representing the U.S. in the Culinary Olympics.
Chef Sonnenschmidt is also the author of several books, including: “Dining with Sherlock Holmes;” “The American Harvest,” and “Taste and Tales of a Chef,”’ the latter of which he will be signing at our meeting. In addition, Chef Sonnenschmidt has appeared on PBS in two series: “Cooking Secrets of the CIA,” and “Grilling Maestros.”
This program is hosted by the Culinary Historians of Chicago.
Cost of the program is $10, $5 for students, and no charge for members of the Culinary Historians. To reserve, please call Susan Ridgeway, CHC treasurer at (815) 439-3960. Or e-mail your reservation to: rsvpchc@yahoo.com.
Please leave your name, telephone number and the number of people in your party.
(Tell 'em VI sent ya)
“A Valentine Day’s Menu of Culinary History”
presented by Chef Fritz H. Sonnenschmidt
Author, and Culinary Dean (retired), Culinary Institute of America, Hyde Park New York
Saturday, Feb. 14, 2004, 10 a.m. to Noon at The Chicago Historical Society, 1601 N. Clark St., Chicago, Illinois
Please join us as the distinguished Chef Sonnenschmidt shamelessly regales us with his four-course menu of culinary history spiced with the kind of love and lore our organization allows only on Valentine’s Day:
1st Intercourse: History of food and how it relates to our food thoughts.
2nd Intercourse: Food legends and belief of sexual powers.
3rd Intercourse: Involvement of food in the rise and fall of nations and empires.
4th Intercourse: Food and the biggest love story of the century.
Certified Master Chef Sonnenschmidt was employed at the CIA from 1968 until his retirement in 2002. He served as a faculty member, department chair, associate director of Continuing Education and Culinary Dean. He began his culinary career as a teenage apprentice in his native Germany. He has won many awards in his long career, among them: The Escoffier Chair for Culinary Excellence; The Jerusalem Gold Medal for Culinary Excellence in Jewish Cooking; and several gold medals representing the U.S. in the Culinary Olympics.
Chef Sonnenschmidt is also the author of several books, including: “Dining with Sherlock Holmes;” “The American Harvest,” and “Taste and Tales of a Chef,”’ the latter of which he will be signing at our meeting. In addition, Chef Sonnenschmidt has appeared on PBS in two series: “Cooking Secrets of the CIA,” and “Grilling Maestros.”
This program is hosted by the Culinary Historians of Chicago.
Cost of the program is $10, $5 for students, and no charge for members of the Culinary Historians. To reserve, please call Susan Ridgeway, CHC treasurer at (815) 439-3960. Or e-mail your reservation to: rsvpchc@yahoo.com.
Please leave your name, telephone number and the number of people in your party.
Wednesday, February 04, 2004
Regional foodfest
I've said before, that unlike Chowhound, I am more than happy to give people a place to post good things. Cathy2 sends this quick bit of info on a foodfest near the Mississippi River--I cannot vouch otherwise for the event.
Kaiserhof Annual Jagerfest
Wild Game Feed
Feb. 8, 2004 12pm-8pm
170 West Main
Bradford, IL
All you can eat
Kaiserhof Restaurant
(309) 897-2505
I've said before, that unlike Chowhound, I am more than happy to give people a place to post good things. Cathy2 sends this quick bit of info on a foodfest near the Mississippi River--I cannot vouch otherwise for the event.
Kaiserhof Annual Jagerfest
Wild Game Feed
Feb. 8, 2004 12pm-8pm
170 West Main
Bradford, IL
All you can eat
Kaiserhof Restaurant
(309) 897-2505
Guest Post - MikeG
NOW THEN! ON TO THE BEST GUATEMALAN RESTAURANT IN NORTH AMERICA! Or
at least, Logan Square.
I promised yesterday that I would go eat something new and report back
today. Actually I think the place I went has at least been mentioned
before, as a Guatemalan bakery, Delicias Guatemaltecas Bakery, 2901 N.
Kedzie. However, I noticed some new signage on it including a new name
(La Luna del Xelaju), which suggested perhaps new ownership and/or a
fuller menu, and decided to see what they had.
The menu behind the bar was a typical all-things-to-all-people mix--
carne asada, Cuban Sandwiches, cheeseburgers and hot dogs. Instead of
ordering off it I told the lady of the establishment that I had eaten
at the Guatemalan restaurant (El Tinajon) on Roscoe but wanted to know
what they had that was different and better. That turned out to be the
best question I could have asked, not because she immediately told me
what to have but because she then gave me the full story.
El Tinajon, she said, makes city food (I assume meaning Guatemala
City). They are from Xelaju, a rural area on the Pacific coast, 90
miles away, and so their food is quite different. Initially they had
just been a bakery, making typical Mexican bakery-looking stuff, but
they had added Guatemalan and Mexican food over time, in their region's
style, and now they were about to get a complete menu change, hopefully
by this weekend if the printer finally finishes the new menus. It
would have considerably more than the menu has now, but even now it
represents a good sampling of their regional choices.
She talked me through a number of dishes but I decided to try multiple
smaller, more peasanty dishes to increase my odds. (By the way, oh
fans of sausage at Brasa Rojas and such places, there is a Guatemalan
sausage platter to be had.) I ordered a cheese pupusa (they also have
chicharron), a chicken tamale in their style, and a pache with pork,
along with a homemade limeade.
The first to come was the pupusa, accompanied by a goodly amount of
cortida (is that how you spell it? I only know it by sound from the
Maxwell St. video). My first bite seemed a bit too crisp, I would have
liked it a bit fluffier, but then she turned up again from the kitchen
with a salsa-- and what a salsa! A brick-red salsa as deep in color as
an artist's mixed oils, full of chunks of different shades of tomato
and pepper, seeds and black bits. I wept at the beauty of this salsa,
in which I could almost taste the instant that igneous mortar scraped
against volcanic pestle and released all the honesty and truth of
Mesoamerica's most noble vegetables. Any qualms about the crustiness
of my pupusa vanished in an instant, and it was only by conjuring up
thoughts of the dishes yet to come that I didn't leap up, race into the
kitchen and yell "Five more pupusas!"
(By the way, later on when she was talking about their clientele, I
asked her about the cortida. She said what I had today was the
Guatemalan style, but on the weekends they get more Salvadoran
customers and so they make it Salvadoran style, which has oregano in it
but is otherwise the same. Did anyone know that? I thought there was
a little cinnamon in the Salvadoran, but oregano?)
The next dish was the odd one out. It was a tamale, with a whole
chicken leg in the center, a very hot red pepper salsa mixed into it
and wrapped in banana leaf. But the stuff around the chicken leg was
closer in texture to the custard in banana leaf at Spoon Thai than to
the Oaxacan tamals at Maxwell, for instance. Clearly not masa, unless
it was whipped with a tremendous amount of egg or something (but no
corn flavor). I thought it might be potato (but the next dish was
supposed to be potato-based). So I asked-- it's rice flour. To be
honest, it was interesting to try but I found it too bland and slightly
icky after multiple bites (maybe because I suddenly realized it was the
exact consistency of my kids' first solid food, a rice cereal). It
needed the toothiness and flavor of something like masa, this was just
mush.
The next dish, a pache, which is basically a tamale made with potato
instead of masa, more than made up for it. The prep was largely the
same-- mashed potatoes with the red pepper salsa, chunks of pork and a
jalapeno, all boiled in a banana leaf-- but the savoriness of the
potatoes, plus a little squeeze of fresh lime over the pork, made this
outstanding. (And even better when I added the salsa.)
So, nice folks trying hard and growing in ambition, artisanal
Slow-Food-worthy homemade salsa, solid regional variations on a lot of
things we know folks 'round here-- this place is a winner and looks
likely to get better yet before they're done, if I were Cheap Eats I'd
jump on it and hand over at least three forks, maybe four pronto. (All
of the above came to the whopping sum of $8.50, by the way.) Check it
out, write it up, let's pack it, they deserve it.
Mike
NOW THEN! ON TO THE BEST GUATEMALAN RESTAURANT IN NORTH AMERICA! Or
at least, Logan Square.
I promised yesterday that I would go eat something new and report back
today. Actually I think the place I went has at least been mentioned
before, as a Guatemalan bakery, Delicias Guatemaltecas Bakery, 2901 N.
Kedzie. However, I noticed some new signage on it including a new name
(La Luna del Xelaju), which suggested perhaps new ownership and/or a
fuller menu, and decided to see what they had.
The menu behind the bar was a typical all-things-to-all-people mix--
carne asada, Cuban Sandwiches, cheeseburgers and hot dogs. Instead of
ordering off it I told the lady of the establishment that I had eaten
at the Guatemalan restaurant (El Tinajon) on Roscoe but wanted to know
what they had that was different and better. That turned out to be the
best question I could have asked, not because she immediately told me
what to have but because she then gave me the full story.
El Tinajon, she said, makes city food (I assume meaning Guatemala
City). They are from Xelaju, a rural area on the Pacific coast, 90
miles away, and so their food is quite different. Initially they had
just been a bakery, making typical Mexican bakery-looking stuff, but
they had added Guatemalan and Mexican food over time, in their region's
style, and now they were about to get a complete menu change, hopefully
by this weekend if the printer finally finishes the new menus. It
would have considerably more than the menu has now, but even now it
represents a good sampling of their regional choices.
She talked me through a number of dishes but I decided to try multiple
smaller, more peasanty dishes to increase my odds. (By the way, oh
fans of sausage at Brasa Rojas and such places, there is a Guatemalan
sausage platter to be had.) I ordered a cheese pupusa (they also have
chicharron), a chicken tamale in their style, and a pache with pork,
along with a homemade limeade.
The first to come was the pupusa, accompanied by a goodly amount of
cortida (is that how you spell it? I only know it by sound from the
Maxwell St. video). My first bite seemed a bit too crisp, I would have
liked it a bit fluffier, but then she turned up again from the kitchen
with a salsa-- and what a salsa! A brick-red salsa as deep in color as
an artist's mixed oils, full of chunks of different shades of tomato
and pepper, seeds and black bits. I wept at the beauty of this salsa,
in which I could almost taste the instant that igneous mortar scraped
against volcanic pestle and released all the honesty and truth of
Mesoamerica's most noble vegetables. Any qualms about the crustiness
of my pupusa vanished in an instant, and it was only by conjuring up
thoughts of the dishes yet to come that I didn't leap up, race into the
kitchen and yell "Five more pupusas!"
(By the way, later on when she was talking about their clientele, I
asked her about the cortida. She said what I had today was the
Guatemalan style, but on the weekends they get more Salvadoran
customers and so they make it Salvadoran style, which has oregano in it
but is otherwise the same. Did anyone know that? I thought there was
a little cinnamon in the Salvadoran, but oregano?)
The next dish was the odd one out. It was a tamale, with a whole
chicken leg in the center, a very hot red pepper salsa mixed into it
and wrapped in banana leaf. But the stuff around the chicken leg was
closer in texture to the custard in banana leaf at Spoon Thai than to
the Oaxacan tamals at Maxwell, for instance. Clearly not masa, unless
it was whipped with a tremendous amount of egg or something (but no
corn flavor). I thought it might be potato (but the next dish was
supposed to be potato-based). So I asked-- it's rice flour. To be
honest, it was interesting to try but I found it too bland and slightly
icky after multiple bites (maybe because I suddenly realized it was the
exact consistency of my kids' first solid food, a rice cereal). It
needed the toothiness and flavor of something like masa, this was just
mush.
The next dish, a pache, which is basically a tamale made with potato
instead of masa, more than made up for it. The prep was largely the
same-- mashed potatoes with the red pepper salsa, chunks of pork and a
jalapeno, all boiled in a banana leaf-- but the savoriness of the
potatoes, plus a little squeeze of fresh lime over the pork, made this
outstanding. (And even better when I added the salsa.)
So, nice folks trying hard and growing in ambition, artisanal
Slow-Food-worthy homemade salsa, solid regional variations on a lot of
things we know folks 'round here-- this place is a winner and looks
likely to get better yet before they're done, if I were Cheap Eats I'd
jump on it and hand over at least three forks, maybe four pronto. (All
of the above came to the whopping sum of $8.50, by the way.) Check it
out, write it up, let's pack it, they deserve it.
Mike
Monday, January 26, 2004
The Best of the Best
Making subs at Riviera -- How do you?
Just below, I talk about the great sub at Riviera. After reading this, a Chowhound poster, Ponzu, mentioned he was anxious to try--thank Will not me. As I noted, there are no standard subs at Riviera. You just invent. So, I am interested to see what Ponzu invents, and I am curious how others get their subs made at Riviera.
Making subs at Riviera -- How do you?
Just below, I talk about the great sub at Riviera. After reading this, a Chowhound poster, Ponzu, mentioned he was anxious to try--thank Will not me. As I noted, there are no standard subs at Riviera. You just invent. So, I am interested to see what Ponzu invents, and I am curious how others get their subs made at Riviera.
Kalbi in the air
Garden Buffet
There has been much talk about Korean grilled meats on Chowhound of late. See here and here et seq. Totally independent, we've been planning a trip with some friends to the Korean buffet, Garden Buffet. We had a very nice dinner on Saturday.
I think, perhaps because Garden Buffet is, well a buffet, it might rate much higher on the hip-o-meter. I for, though, never sneer at all you can eat. Still, no sojutini's, just big bottles of OB beer that made a fantastic accord.
I really think a buffet format accentuates this form of eating. At non-buffet places I sometimes find myself begging for more lettuce, a mysterious hot sauce at another table or some other accoutrement. At Garden Buffet, you just help yourself. More lettuce, more scallions, more chunks of raw garlic, just grab. Which hot sauce, try 'em all. Mix and match the sesame oil, vinegar, soy, and salt-mixture to a 101 slurries. Want to try one piece of Korean chitlin', toss it on the grill. If the panchan or meats are not quite as elegant, these other features make up.
The other key features about Garden Buffet: excellent ventilation and tongs. The lump wood charcoals are ventilated down not up. Your table remains relatively smoke free, and the next day, aside from the garlic burps, you may not realize as much where you ate. I am reasonably adept with chopsticks, but I find it so much easier to work the grill with the tongs. So, good ventilation and easy handling of the food make Garden Buffet a great place.
I never touched any of the sushi at Garden Buffet the other night, but the selection was more than usual. I tried one fried wing, but it tasted too much like a McNugget. Mandoo (dumplings) did look good, but I was too full by the time I got to them. I do very much like the traditional close to Korean BBQ, the cold soba noodles with the do-it-yourself saucing.
I'll give Garden Buffet, because of all user-friendly features, a 5.4 on the hip-o-meter.
Garden Buffet Restaurant
5347 N Lincoln Avenue
Chicago, IL 60625-2307
(773) 728-1249
Garden Buffet
There has been much talk about Korean grilled meats on Chowhound of late. See here and here et seq. Totally independent, we've been planning a trip with some friends to the Korean buffet, Garden Buffet. We had a very nice dinner on Saturday.
I think, perhaps because Garden Buffet is, well a buffet, it might rate much higher on the hip-o-meter. I for, though, never sneer at all you can eat. Still, no sojutini's, just big bottles of OB beer that made a fantastic accord.
I really think a buffet format accentuates this form of eating. At non-buffet places I sometimes find myself begging for more lettuce, a mysterious hot sauce at another table or some other accoutrement. At Garden Buffet, you just help yourself. More lettuce, more scallions, more chunks of raw garlic, just grab. Which hot sauce, try 'em all. Mix and match the sesame oil, vinegar, soy, and salt-mixture to a 101 slurries. Want to try one piece of Korean chitlin', toss it on the grill. If the panchan or meats are not quite as elegant, these other features make up.
The other key features about Garden Buffet: excellent ventilation and tongs. The lump wood charcoals are ventilated down not up. Your table remains relatively smoke free, and the next day, aside from the garlic burps, you may not realize as much where you ate. I am reasonably adept with chopsticks, but I find it so much easier to work the grill with the tongs. So, good ventilation and easy handling of the food make Garden Buffet a great place.
I never touched any of the sushi at Garden Buffet the other night, but the selection was more than usual. I tried one fried wing, but it tasted too much like a McNugget. Mandoo (dumplings) did look good, but I was too full by the time I got to them. I do very much like the traditional close to Korean BBQ, the cold soba noodles with the do-it-yourself saucing.
I'll give Garden Buffet, because of all user-friendly features, a 5.4 on the hip-o-meter.
Garden Buffet Restaurant
5347 N Lincoln Avenue
Chicago, IL 60625-2307
(773) 728-1249
More OC Books
My friend Art Bilek who knows a LOT about organized crime in Chicago, recently published a book on the St. Valentine's Day Massacre. While those interested in more current affairs of the Outfit may think the events in this book too ancient, it is amazing how much this criminal action affected the entire history of Chicago criminal enterprises. Much of the current Outfit holds its ties to the old Capone gang, and knowing this history lets you understand a bit better, what is happening today. You should really give this book a shot.
My friend Art Bilek who knows a LOT about organized crime in Chicago, recently published a book on the St. Valentine's Day Massacre. While those interested in more current affairs of the Outfit may think the events in this book too ancient, it is amazing how much this criminal action affected the entire history of Chicago criminal enterprises. Much of the current Outfit holds its ties to the old Capone gang, and knowing this history lets you understand a bit better, what is happening today. You should really give this book a shot.
The Best?
Riviera Italian Foods
I and a lot of people have been intrigued over the last several months about the idea of the "best." I cannot speak to other's motivations or inspirations, but I clearly got thinking about the idea after being confronted with about 12 breads any time I shopped at Caputo's in Elmwood Park. Which of the breads was truly the best? Eventually, this question morphed into the bread tasting party. The bread tasting failed on a couple of levels. Mostly, it failed because only a few breads came even close to the consensus winner, Melissa's home baked/ancient starter country loaves. It also failed because, confronted with too many things including such non-bread things as excellent Wiv-cured gravlax, we kinda lost our tasting rigor.
Dickson coordinated the next search for the best, a survey of several Italian beef stands. Dickson imposed some structure to the process, and it produced, if nothing else, a more scientific outcome, even if I felt that the scientific approach ever so slightly caused us to value the parts over the whole. I mean try it. See how different a beef sandwich can taste when you eat each part separate. Finally, the tightly focused crowd have done a huge and exhaustive survey of Chicago BBQ. See here and here for the results to date. Taking an opposite approach from the beef tasting, the rib tasters have generally provided singular opinions of places tried. Perhaps it is easier with BBQ to settle in one opinion vs. Italian beefs, where people seemed to have assorted ideas. All in all, I enjoy all these quests whether participating in the process or not.
Still, the best is a problematic issue. My biggest problem with the quest, is that I am too often happy with what I know to be great, compared to the effort to be comprehensive. Every so often, you hit a place so, so far better, so special, so great, you know it is the best. The question of best Italian sub comes up fairly often on Chowhound, and I have been highly unfamiliar with some of the sub contenders in Chicago. I have been wanting then, to visit Riviera ASAP. Best?
I did. On Friday. Can we cancel the contest? I find it hard to imagine a greater sub than Riviera. The Riviera sub gets so great possibly, because when you enter the store, there is NO indication of subs offered. But this means a purely custom sub. First, you pick exactly which roll you want. One of the choices is Mazza's, pointed at both ends, wide in the middle, thing, my favorite of this kind locally. Only great bread can produce the best sandwich. Second, you pick whatever else in the display case you want inside your sandwich. It is a not exactly easy process. How do you know which of the fresh and tasty looking meats and cheeses will work best together. OurPalWill suggests this combo. I, almost randomly, picked an intense looking capicolla, one of those 12 inch diameter mortadella, silky prosciutto and fresh mozzarella. Luckily, it worked. For garnish, I took both the house's home-made eggplant salad and the house's home-made hot giardinara. Since it would be a while until I ate, they packed both accessories separately for me. The house giardinara is surely one of the ways that makes this the best. On the deli counter, always stand several jars of what they have canned, including the made with jalepeno's, hot giardiana. It looks so raw, so pure, so real, I know these are the best, and any sandwich with them, is the best. All of this, less than $3.50.
Before picking up my sub, I grabbed an espresso at Bar Nazionale next door. The coffee was OK, say slightly behind a decent pull at Starbucks. I found it excessively winey with no heady coffee aroma necessary for a great cup.
On the other hand, stopped for a cup yesterday at Caffee Italia, also on Harlem, but more south, and this remains, by far, the benchmark espresso in Chicago. Rich, dense, and as Steingarden expresses so well, actually achieving a taste close to that of the gorgeous coffee aroma. This place, with its intense haze of smoke, its groups of men gathered around various tables speaking in a 100 languages and its most real espresso around, is like a worm-hole to Europe.
Riviera
Imported & Domestic Italian Foods
3220 North Harlem Ave.
Chicago, IL 60634
773-637-4252
Riviera Italian Foods
I and a lot of people have been intrigued over the last several months about the idea of the "best." I cannot speak to other's motivations or inspirations, but I clearly got thinking about the idea after being confronted with about 12 breads any time I shopped at Caputo's in Elmwood Park. Which of the breads was truly the best? Eventually, this question morphed into the bread tasting party. The bread tasting failed on a couple of levels. Mostly, it failed because only a few breads came even close to the consensus winner, Melissa's home baked/ancient starter country loaves. It also failed because, confronted with too many things including such non-bread things as excellent Wiv-cured gravlax, we kinda lost our tasting rigor.
Dickson coordinated the next search for the best, a survey of several Italian beef stands. Dickson imposed some structure to the process, and it produced, if nothing else, a more scientific outcome, even if I felt that the scientific approach ever so slightly caused us to value the parts over the whole. I mean try it. See how different a beef sandwich can taste when you eat each part separate. Finally, the tightly focused crowd have done a huge and exhaustive survey of Chicago BBQ. See here and here for the results to date. Taking an opposite approach from the beef tasting, the rib tasters have generally provided singular opinions of places tried. Perhaps it is easier with BBQ to settle in one opinion vs. Italian beefs, where people seemed to have assorted ideas. All in all, I enjoy all these quests whether participating in the process or not.
Still, the best is a problematic issue. My biggest problem with the quest, is that I am too often happy with what I know to be great, compared to the effort to be comprehensive. Every so often, you hit a place so, so far better, so special, so great, you know it is the best. The question of best Italian sub comes up fairly often on Chowhound, and I have been highly unfamiliar with some of the sub contenders in Chicago. I have been wanting then, to visit Riviera ASAP. Best?
I did. On Friday. Can we cancel the contest? I find it hard to imagine a greater sub than Riviera. The Riviera sub gets so great possibly, because when you enter the store, there is NO indication of subs offered. But this means a purely custom sub. First, you pick exactly which roll you want. One of the choices is Mazza's, pointed at both ends, wide in the middle, thing, my favorite of this kind locally. Only great bread can produce the best sandwich. Second, you pick whatever else in the display case you want inside your sandwich. It is a not exactly easy process. How do you know which of the fresh and tasty looking meats and cheeses will work best together. OurPalWill suggests this combo. I, almost randomly, picked an intense looking capicolla, one of those 12 inch diameter mortadella, silky prosciutto and fresh mozzarella. Luckily, it worked. For garnish, I took both the house's home-made eggplant salad and the house's home-made hot giardinara. Since it would be a while until I ate, they packed both accessories separately for me. The house giardinara is surely one of the ways that makes this the best. On the deli counter, always stand several jars of what they have canned, including the made with jalepeno's, hot giardiana. It looks so raw, so pure, so real, I know these are the best, and any sandwich with them, is the best. All of this, less than $3.50.
Before picking up my sub, I grabbed an espresso at Bar Nazionale next door. The coffee was OK, say slightly behind a decent pull at Starbucks. I found it excessively winey with no heady coffee aroma necessary for a great cup.
On the other hand, stopped for a cup yesterday at Caffee Italia, also on Harlem, but more south, and this remains, by far, the benchmark espresso in Chicago. Rich, dense, and as Steingarden expresses so well, actually achieving a taste close to that of the gorgeous coffee aroma. This place, with its intense haze of smoke, its groups of men gathered around various tables speaking in a 100 languages and its most real espresso around, is like a worm-hole to Europe.
Riviera
Imported & Domestic Italian Foods
3220 North Harlem Ave.
Chicago, IL 60634
773-637-4252
Tapeheads go legit
I ran across an interesting item in yesterday's Sun Times(note, the Sun Times Web site is rife with pop-ups, do not execute this web site without a very good pop-up killer). A company called Pirate Entertainment is doing real time recordings of Buddy Guy concerts while he does an extended stay at his namesake club. You can walk away from each show with a souvenir. In addition, on the Pirate Web site, you can view set lists of past Buddy Guy shows, and I believe over time, other artists.
I have seen Buddy Guy several times, but have not visited any blues club, probably since the birth of the chowhounditas. Just hard to have the baby sitter stick around to 2 or so in the morning. I am intrigued by this product as much for the set lists as for the actual recordings. Buddy Guy is widely known for his eclectic tastes and over-the-top showmanship. His mimicking of other's style and techniques, especially rockers and his extensive shtick--I mean, I bet, having not seen him in 7 plus years, he's still stopping his show at some point to have someone bring him a glass of cognac--keeps Buddy low in the eyes of purists. Yet, he is exactly what people want when they want to be entertained. Just seeing the set lists give me enough vicarious thrill I need.
I ran across an interesting item in yesterday's Sun Times(note, the Sun Times Web site is rife with pop-ups, do not execute this web site without a very good pop-up killer). A company called Pirate Entertainment is doing real time recordings of Buddy Guy concerts while he does an extended stay at his namesake club. You can walk away from each show with a souvenir. In addition, on the Pirate Web site, you can view set lists of past Buddy Guy shows, and I believe over time, other artists.
I have seen Buddy Guy several times, but have not visited any blues club, probably since the birth of the chowhounditas. Just hard to have the baby sitter stick around to 2 or so in the morning. I am intrigued by this product as much for the set lists as for the actual recordings. Buddy Guy is widely known for his eclectic tastes and over-the-top showmanship. His mimicking of other's style and techniques, especially rockers and his extensive shtick--I mean, I bet, having not seen him in 7 plus years, he's still stopping his show at some point to have someone bring him a glass of cognac--keeps Buddy low in the eyes of purists. Yet, he is exactly what people want when they want to be entertained. Just seeing the set lists give me enough vicarious thrill I need.
Thursday, January 22, 2004
Rapini Run
(Paying for the blog)
Last week I mentioned Bertucci's, the barely discussed Italian restaurant in Chinatown. The post got Seth's mouth watering. Now, everything right in this blog (surely the things not prone to argument) are the handiwork of Seth. He's cleaned up a lot of bad HTML on my part and even gave me permalinks (waiting patiently for someone to use). Lunch at Bertucci's seemed the only way to express my gratitude.
And I guess I am pretty darn happy with this whole system. I loved Bertucci's. We benefited greatly from some name dropping by Seth. Much to my chagrin, my highly touted recommendation of veal with rapini was not on the lunch menu. But Seth threw out the word Mayor, and given the high population of city workers there, is it our fault that Mayor's were confused? When, I did agree to pay the dinner price for the veal, they agreed to make it.
This may be my favorite plate of food in Chicago. No one else combines the things I like so expertly like this. Divide the plate into thirds. One third gets a flat, crisp circle of breaded veal, much better than your local greek, not quite provimi; another third gets thick discs of fresh made cottage fried potatoes, a little greasy and a little crunch less than ideal; the last third gets the memory inducing rapini. All thirds get drenched in garlic. I suppose it is not on the lunch menu to protect those on their way to meetings. The magic of this trilogy is that each of these flavors and textures blends into the one next to it, similar but different, complimentary yet distinct.
Bertucci may be wholly cool, but it is not perfect. Baked clams were too soggy, and some of the clams chewy. Too much dressing drowned the salad (even if I smiled at the non-canned olive). Still, do you really expect or need a place like this to be perfect? With a couple of waitresses asking youz guys what you want, a variety of entertainment machines to occupy you if you got bored and this much garlic, who needs perfect.
(Paying for the blog)
Last week I mentioned Bertucci's, the barely discussed Italian restaurant in Chinatown. The post got Seth's mouth watering. Now, everything right in this blog (surely the things not prone to argument) are the handiwork of Seth. He's cleaned up a lot of bad HTML on my part and even gave me permalinks (waiting patiently for someone to use). Lunch at Bertucci's seemed the only way to express my gratitude.
And I guess I am pretty darn happy with this whole system. I loved Bertucci's. We benefited greatly from some name dropping by Seth. Much to my chagrin, my highly touted recommendation of veal with rapini was not on the lunch menu. But Seth threw out the word Mayor, and given the high population of city workers there, is it our fault that Mayor's were confused? When, I did agree to pay the dinner price for the veal, they agreed to make it.
This may be my favorite plate of food in Chicago. No one else combines the things I like so expertly like this. Divide the plate into thirds. One third gets a flat, crisp circle of breaded veal, much better than your local greek, not quite provimi; another third gets thick discs of fresh made cottage fried potatoes, a little greasy and a little crunch less than ideal; the last third gets the memory inducing rapini. All thirds get drenched in garlic. I suppose it is not on the lunch menu to protect those on their way to meetings. The magic of this trilogy is that each of these flavors and textures blends into the one next to it, similar but different, complimentary yet distinct.
Bertucci may be wholly cool, but it is not perfect. Baked clams were too soggy, and some of the clams chewy. Too much dressing drowned the salad (even if I smiled at the non-canned olive). Still, do you really expect or need a place like this to be perfect? With a couple of waitresses asking youz guys what you want, a variety of entertainment machines to occupy you if you got bored and this much garlic, who needs perfect.
Wednesday, January 21, 2004
Bohemia Returns to Berwyn
Chicago experts know that the only thing Bohemian about Pilsen is the name. Further West in Little Village, one might, every once in a while, see a stalwart who never moved. But they almost all moved. West to Cicero-Berwyn. Yet today, these two suburbs are bleeding Bohemians [ed. I changed that from Bohunks, not sure if your choice of words is PC] as well. Places like Klas, Jim's Market, and Vesecky Bakery remain out there, but these suburbs are mostly Mexican these days. The dribbling of recent Czech immigrants seems more centered on Northwest side of Chicago, with places like Operetta and the Czech Bakery. I was not expecting a more "modern" Czech place in Berwyn, but it's there, the relatively new, Bohemia Deli.
If you are aware of the inventory of Czech Bakery in Chicago, you will mostly know Bohemia Deli. In fact, as I later noticed from their business card, the two places are related. There is a range of serve-yourself baked goods, kolachy, stuffed crescents, different kinds of rolls. You put what you want on small styrofoam plates, and they wrap it in plastic. There are also larger loafs of bread including a two ton rye. Like Mexican bakeries, the stuff is so cheap, you can afford to be generous in your purchases. There is a small deli case with slab bacon, ham, and other Czech sausages. There were skinny Bohemian wieners that they will steam for you for an absolute bargain at 99 cents. Finally, there are a bunch of pre-made Czech dinners. At first I thought these were no great shake, about $7, but then I realized each package contained a LOT of food, I realized what a deal they were. We picked the Czech version of the pan-Slavic, cevacipi over mashed potatoes (and appealing to me because it had pickles too) and noodles with farmer's cheese.
This is not overwhelming food. It tasted like maybe good cafeteria food, for instance the mashed potatoes were quite thin (with enough imperfections to convince me that they were real). Yet, since it was Bohemian cafeteria food, it did have some appeal. The cevacipi were much moister than the versions found further south in Europe, they were more like meatballs instead of sausage. The noodles were very sweet, hard to eat them for dinner.
I do not have the exact address of Bohemia Deli, as their business card only gave the location of their Chicago store, 3113 N. Central. The Berwyn branch is on Cermak near East Av., Berwyn.
Chicago experts know that the only thing Bohemian about Pilsen is the name. Further West in Little Village, one might, every once in a while, see a stalwart who never moved. But they almost all moved. West to Cicero-Berwyn. Yet today, these two suburbs are bleeding Bohemians [ed. I changed that from Bohunks, not sure if your choice of words is PC] as well. Places like Klas, Jim's Market, and Vesecky Bakery remain out there, but these suburbs are mostly Mexican these days. The dribbling of recent Czech immigrants seems more centered on Northwest side of Chicago, with places like Operetta and the Czech Bakery. I was not expecting a more "modern" Czech place in Berwyn, but it's there, the relatively new, Bohemia Deli.
If you are aware of the inventory of Czech Bakery in Chicago, you will mostly know Bohemia Deli. In fact, as I later noticed from their business card, the two places are related. There is a range of serve-yourself baked goods, kolachy, stuffed crescents, different kinds of rolls. You put what you want on small styrofoam plates, and they wrap it in plastic. There are also larger loafs of bread including a two ton rye. Like Mexican bakeries, the stuff is so cheap, you can afford to be generous in your purchases. There is a small deli case with slab bacon, ham, and other Czech sausages. There were skinny Bohemian wieners that they will steam for you for an absolute bargain at 99 cents. Finally, there are a bunch of pre-made Czech dinners. At first I thought these were no great shake, about $7, but then I realized each package contained a LOT of food, I realized what a deal they were. We picked the Czech version of the pan-Slavic, cevacipi over mashed potatoes (and appealing to me because it had pickles too) and noodles with farmer's cheese.
This is not overwhelming food. It tasted like maybe good cafeteria food, for instance the mashed potatoes were quite thin (with enough imperfections to convince me that they were real). Yet, since it was Bohemian cafeteria food, it did have some appeal. The cevacipi were much moister than the versions found further south in Europe, they were more like meatballs instead of sausage. The noodles were very sweet, hard to eat them for dinner.
I do not have the exact address of Bohemia Deli, as their business card only gave the location of their Chicago store, 3113 N. Central. The Berwyn branch is on Cermak near East Av., Berwyn.
Yum Thai data
When I reported on Yum Thai last week, I mentioned a delicious yellow curry, but I could not find my annotated Thai menu for its name. Well, I have been cleaning my office in anticipation of a couple of things, and I found the Yum Thai menu.
The dish in question was "gaeng som pladyyk tawd" translated as "orange curry w/fried catfish, sour from tamarind, not too thick". Well, not too thick was quite the understatement as this is more of a soup than a curry. Also, when I had it, the catfish was shrimps--no big deal for me to be fooled. If it matters, I suppose ask first. Note, this dish is listed under the section of the menu called "Gaeng (Curry). As always, ask for this secret menu to fully enjoy Yum Thai.
When I reported on Yum Thai last week, I mentioned a delicious yellow curry, but I could not find my annotated Thai menu for its name. Well, I have been cleaning my office in anticipation of a couple of things, and I found the Yum Thai menu.
The dish in question was "gaeng som pladyyk tawd" translated as "orange curry w/fried catfish, sour from tamarind, not too thick". Well, not too thick was quite the understatement as this is more of a soup than a curry. Also, when I had it, the catfish was shrimps--no big deal for me to be fooled. If it matters, I suppose ask first. Note, this dish is listed under the section of the menu called "Gaeng (Curry). As always, ask for this secret menu to fully enjoy Yum Thai.
Tuesday, January 20, 2004
Taking a Pole
Halina's is that Good
We used to eat Polish food about twice a year, but lately, we have found ourself returning quite often to a small cafe on the far West side of Chicago called Halina. We never much set out to find Halina. Rather, Halina found us. Most people associate the process of eating Polish food in Chicago to be all about all-you-can-eat CHEAP buffets. Halina taught us otherwise. Few people at Halina, especially the staff, speak English well, but they all try to make your dinner enjoyable, and they food coming out of the kitchen helps too.
While I do not go wildly exploring the menu at Halina, like I have never attempted anything not translated, I have never found a poor choice. Mostly, I make my choices with the soup. I am not sure anyone has polled a top ten soup listing, but Halina surely laddles out some of the best soups in Chicago. Some soups are thin yet flavorful, the chicken noodle the kids always get, and the peppery red borsht, but others are wildly thick and murky. The latter soups all seem to balance expertly vinegar sour with creamy richness, ideal soups. I find myself at Halina ordering soups I would never touch in a million years. Would you ever try a hot cucumber soup. Delicious. Tripe, from the fattier gooier part of the guts, delicious. The only thing that sometimes clouds up my decision making process, the chance to get the "eggroll" that comes with the red borsht. This is a meat filled pancake noodle, breaded and fried looking, well like an eggroll. So, yes, occasionally I pick my soup based on side.
I like to center my ordering at Halina by side too, side order. Some but not all dishes come with the "side order", a plate of cold, sour salads. You pick from beets spiked with horseradish, yellow sauerkraut and white cole slaw. I always go for mix, a bit of all three. Some of the things that I like that come with the sides include Chicken Kiev with rock solid crust, rainbow trout with head but without bones, and ground pork patties. If I can stand to skip the sides, I focus on the large potato pancake encassing beef gulash (a/k/a Hungarian Pancake). Pierogi are not the most ideal, truly perfect pierogi would get a final saute in butter, crisping up one side, but these just boiled dumplings with assorted stuffing do just fine for the kids or as a side dish. Desserts are not worth ordering but the appetizer heerings are, if you can find a bit of spare gullet space.
Halina is BYOB, but I rarely see people drinking hard stuff there. Instead, most of the customers (and nearly all the customers are Poles), drink a pink fruit drink called Kompot. The ultra sweetness does cut the rich food, but a liquor store across the street will supply you with Polish beer that cuts the food even better.
Halina's
5914 W Lawrence Ave
Chicago, Il 60630
773-205-0256
Halina's is that Good
We used to eat Polish food about twice a year, but lately, we have found ourself returning quite often to a small cafe on the far West side of Chicago called Halina. We never much set out to find Halina. Rather, Halina found us. Most people associate the process of eating Polish food in Chicago to be all about all-you-can-eat CHEAP buffets. Halina taught us otherwise. Few people at Halina, especially the staff, speak English well, but they all try to make your dinner enjoyable, and they food coming out of the kitchen helps too.
While I do not go wildly exploring the menu at Halina, like I have never attempted anything not translated, I have never found a poor choice. Mostly, I make my choices with the soup. I am not sure anyone has polled a top ten soup listing, but Halina surely laddles out some of the best soups in Chicago. Some soups are thin yet flavorful, the chicken noodle the kids always get, and the peppery red borsht, but others are wildly thick and murky. The latter soups all seem to balance expertly vinegar sour with creamy richness, ideal soups. I find myself at Halina ordering soups I would never touch in a million years. Would you ever try a hot cucumber soup. Delicious. Tripe, from the fattier gooier part of the guts, delicious. The only thing that sometimes clouds up my decision making process, the chance to get the "eggroll" that comes with the red borsht. This is a meat filled pancake noodle, breaded and fried looking, well like an eggroll. So, yes, occasionally I pick my soup based on side.
I like to center my ordering at Halina by side too, side order. Some but not all dishes come with the "side order", a plate of cold, sour salads. You pick from beets spiked with horseradish, yellow sauerkraut and white cole slaw. I always go for mix, a bit of all three. Some of the things that I like that come with the sides include Chicken Kiev with rock solid crust, rainbow trout with head but without bones, and ground pork patties. If I can stand to skip the sides, I focus on the large potato pancake encassing beef gulash (a/k/a Hungarian Pancake). Pierogi are not the most ideal, truly perfect pierogi would get a final saute in butter, crisping up one side, but these just boiled dumplings with assorted stuffing do just fine for the kids or as a side dish. Desserts are not worth ordering but the appetizer heerings are, if you can find a bit of spare gullet space.
Halina is BYOB, but I rarely see people drinking hard stuff there. Instead, most of the customers (and nearly all the customers are Poles), drink a pink fruit drink called Kompot. The ultra sweetness does cut the rich food, but a liquor store across the street will supply you with Polish beer that cuts the food even better.
Halina's
5914 W Lawrence Ave
Chicago, Il 60630
773-205-0256
Trading tips with the Reader
El Chimbombo
I am pretty sure that a long ago Chowhound poster, HLing first discovered eyeball tacos at the Maxwell Street Sunday market--and you know what I mean about discovering them. Since the first postings on Chicago Chowhound, they have been a bit of a myth and a bit of an insider reference to the eyeballs. It is one of the least found foodstuffs in Chicago. At various houndly tours of Maxwell Street, there came a time when some would take up the eyeball challenge. Ultimately, no one could keep their eye off of G Wiv when he took his turn swallowing the ocular for the camera's in the Gorilla Gourmet Maxwell Street production. You would think when the Reader chose to write about the eyeball taco vendor, they would acknowledge this mania. Still, I would suggest reading the article on El Chimbombo in this week's Reader.
Me, I freely thank the Reader for sending me to the eyeball ball guys' brick and mortar stand in Berwyn (sin ojo) for some very delicious tacos. Smugly, I might suggest that I had this place, not too far from me, on my to-eat list. A much nicer than the rest of the street, painted terra-cotta facade, and signs advertising flor de calabaza (zucchini blossoms) and tortillas heco a mano (handmade tortillas), already caught my eye. With extra inspiration from the Reader, I have made two visits to El Chimbombo.
The Reader article should have done a better job of warning the eater. Not to eating there, but getting to eat there. El Chimbombo presents no English on their menu, and some of their items are going to be unfamiliar to most of the Reader's readers, and the servers also spoke limited English. The menu basically offers two types of food. First, they offer a huge series of fillings including beef cheeks, tongue, brains, rajas con queso (peppers with cheese), tripas, etc., (but no eyeballs). These fillings go in any number of containers including as tacos, quesadillas, huaraches, sopes and gorditas, The second kind of thing to get at Chimbombo is the alambre. I am not sure of the history or tradition of the this dish, but I know from other places in this part of town, that the alambre appears to be a favorite of Cicero-Berwyn. Chimbombo makes an alambre by chopping up your choice of meat(s) with cheese and pepper, and perhaps onions and bacon if you are going for the more deluxe version. The menu notes a version for hungry diners ("para muy ambrientos") where you can get three heapings of meat. The alambres come with a rich broth filled with beans and bacon, essentially the juice or jugo of carne en su jugo. On the visits, the alambres were as good as they sound.
I have also worked my way through six of the taco versions: al pastor, barbacoa de borrego (steamed lamb), cesina, cochinita pibil (a dish of baby pork steamed in banana leaf, but I highly doubt they do that here), lengua (tongue) and chuleta adobada (marinated pork). All have been far better than average with a few really standing out. The cochinita pibil lacks the traditional pickled onions, but it made up for it in other ways. The stewed meat gets re-heated on the griddle (a la plancha). It crisps up the sides while leaving the inside feathery and light. I liked this more for the texture than the out front flavors. They cut their pastor from the vertical spit, like a donor kebab or shwarma. This form of cooking leaves the meat moist from dripping fat, yet not actually that fatty. What really made the pastor, however, were its onions, onions cooked beyond carmelization but just before carbonization. Finally, I loved the meaty, soft lengua.
Besides the tacos and alambres, I have tried a few other things. There is the gooey, yummy, bring out the kid in you melted cheese dish, queso fundido, with a choice of three toppings. There is the intense, meaty broth from the making of barbacoa, consome de Canero--great but needed a couple of doses of lime to cut the fat, and there is flan. I asked if the flan was made in house. No, I was told, the owner makes it at HIS house. Like everything else at El Chimbombo, it comes more than one way. The other day, three, corn, coconut, and pecan. The one we tried, corn, tasted like someone made it in their home, a high compliment indeed. I should warn that sign or not, the tortillas are commercial. The other soft gripe, some really awful tomatoes marring a few things. On the other hand, El Chimbombo cooks up four different and distinctive table salsas. It is near impossible to settle on one.
So far, I am quite glad the Reader reminded me that what catches my eye is often worth writing about.
El Chimbombo
6725 W. Cermak
Berwyn, IL
708-484-9430
(And Sundays selling eyeballs and other goods at Maxwell Street.)
El Chimbombo
I am pretty sure that a long ago Chowhound poster, HLing first discovered eyeball tacos at the Maxwell Street Sunday market--and you know what I mean about discovering them. Since the first postings on Chicago Chowhound, they have been a bit of a myth and a bit of an insider reference to the eyeballs. It is one of the least found foodstuffs in Chicago. At various houndly tours of Maxwell Street, there came a time when some would take up the eyeball challenge. Ultimately, no one could keep their eye off of G Wiv when he took his turn swallowing the ocular for the camera's in the Gorilla Gourmet Maxwell Street production. You would think when the Reader chose to write about the eyeball taco vendor, they would acknowledge this mania. Still, I would suggest reading the article on El Chimbombo in this week's Reader.
Me, I freely thank the Reader for sending me to the eyeball ball guys' brick and mortar stand in Berwyn (sin ojo) for some very delicious tacos. Smugly, I might suggest that I had this place, not too far from me, on my to-eat list. A much nicer than the rest of the street, painted terra-cotta facade, and signs advertising flor de calabaza (zucchini blossoms) and tortillas heco a mano (handmade tortillas), already caught my eye. With extra inspiration from the Reader, I have made two visits to El Chimbombo.
The Reader article should have done a better job of warning the eater. Not to eating there, but getting to eat there. El Chimbombo presents no English on their menu, and some of their items are going to be unfamiliar to most of the Reader's readers, and the servers also spoke limited English. The menu basically offers two types of food. First, they offer a huge series of fillings including beef cheeks, tongue, brains, rajas con queso (peppers with cheese), tripas, etc., (but no eyeballs). These fillings go in any number of containers including as tacos, quesadillas, huaraches, sopes and gorditas, The second kind of thing to get at Chimbombo is the alambre. I am not sure of the history or tradition of the this dish, but I know from other places in this part of town, that the alambre appears to be a favorite of Cicero-Berwyn. Chimbombo makes an alambre by chopping up your choice of meat(s) with cheese and pepper, and perhaps onions and bacon if you are going for the more deluxe version. The menu notes a version for hungry diners ("para muy ambrientos") where you can get three heapings of meat. The alambres come with a rich broth filled with beans and bacon, essentially the juice or jugo of carne en su jugo. On the visits, the alambres were as good as they sound.
I have also worked my way through six of the taco versions: al pastor, barbacoa de borrego (steamed lamb), cesina, cochinita pibil (a dish of baby pork steamed in banana leaf, but I highly doubt they do that here), lengua (tongue) and chuleta adobada (marinated pork). All have been far better than average with a few really standing out. The cochinita pibil lacks the traditional pickled onions, but it made up for it in other ways. The stewed meat gets re-heated on the griddle (a la plancha). It crisps up the sides while leaving the inside feathery and light. I liked this more for the texture than the out front flavors. They cut their pastor from the vertical spit, like a donor kebab or shwarma. This form of cooking leaves the meat moist from dripping fat, yet not actually that fatty. What really made the pastor, however, were its onions, onions cooked beyond carmelization but just before carbonization. Finally, I loved the meaty, soft lengua.
Besides the tacos and alambres, I have tried a few other things. There is the gooey, yummy, bring out the kid in you melted cheese dish, queso fundido, with a choice of three toppings. There is the intense, meaty broth from the making of barbacoa, consome de Canero--great but needed a couple of doses of lime to cut the fat, and there is flan. I asked if the flan was made in house. No, I was told, the owner makes it at HIS house. Like everything else at El Chimbombo, it comes more than one way. The other day, three, corn, coconut, and pecan. The one we tried, corn, tasted like someone made it in their home, a high compliment indeed. I should warn that sign or not, the tortillas are commercial. The other soft gripe, some really awful tomatoes marring a few things. On the other hand, El Chimbombo cooks up four different and distinctive table salsas. It is near impossible to settle on one.
So far, I am quite glad the Reader reminded me that what catches my eye is often worth writing about.
El Chimbombo
6725 W. Cermak
Berwyn, IL
708-484-9430
(And Sundays selling eyeballs and other goods at Maxwell Street.)
Monday, January 19, 2004
Always Happy at Happy Chef
Cantonese food too often gets dismissed, associated unfortunately with all that crappy stuff long unpopular: chop suey, chow mein, moo goo gai pan, etc., etc. Yet, the real thing, the real Cantonese, presents one of the most delicious brands of Chinese food. Few spices play a role in Cantonese food. Instead, Cantonese style Chinese food emphasizes clean preparations, where you can see the underlying food. Seafood, popular in all aspects of Chinese food, is especially important in Cantonese food. It is expected that Cantonese food is all stir fried, but great Cantonese food uses a bunch of preparations including steaming, baking and cooking in casseroles. I fully expect a good Cantonese meal to wow me from all sides of the kitchen, and one kitchen that always wows me is Happy Chef.
I had the good fortune of dining with a very large group at Happy Chef the other night. As always, it was a great meal. Too much food, so I have to run through the list pretty quickly, what we ate. All meals at Happy Chef start with complimentary soup. Perhaps my sucker-ness for freebies influences my love of Happy Chef, but the soup always puts me right for more to come. Since the soup contains a few spare chicken feet and other odds and ends, I always jokingly call it leftover dim sum soup. Actually, the dominant feature of the soup is big chewy, whole pieces of conch, looking very much of the shell. Not a pretty soup, but a nice soup.
Did I say quick run? I'll try again. Crabs AND lobster stir fried in ginger and green onion and impossible to eat with chop sticks; green beans dry cooked with sliced pork, straying to the mainstream; pea shoots with more conch, getting back to the more authentic; tofu stuffed with shrimp paste in hot pot, the blander course; clams in a tiny wok of broth; beef in sizzling platter with too much black pepper and thin pork chops in a honeyed brown sauce, both dishes belying the notion that Cantonese dishes are all plain; soft boiled chicken with a dressing of ginger and green onion; and finally, Peking duck served in 2 courses. The meal ends with a second soup, red bean with sweet balls. A soup I like better for its complimentary nature than its succor.
I love Happy Chef so much that I can safely say that a couple of things were not perfect. I really dug the clam preparation. It left the clams soft but with integrity, but the clams themselves were overly gritty. Great dish that could have been greater. The pancakes for the duck were not the usual rubbery moo shu things. Rather, smaller discs, studded with seeds, breadier, but also dry and flour-y in parts. Because it was such a large group, service was a non-factor. In past visits, I have always felt comfortable at Happy Chef. It is easy to order here without any language skills.
Happy Chef fits into all the stereotypes of no nonsense Chinese eating. Decor would be the tanks with live seafood. Lighting makes no woman look pretty. Best (worse?), the tables are covered in a mille feuille of plastic. When one table finishes, the staff rolls up everything not worth keeping, ties it into a knot, and prepares for new eaters.
Happy Chef
2164 S. Archer Ave (Chinatown Mall)
Chicago, IL
312-808-3689
Cantonese food too often gets dismissed, associated unfortunately with all that crappy stuff long unpopular: chop suey, chow mein, moo goo gai pan, etc., etc. Yet, the real thing, the real Cantonese, presents one of the most delicious brands of Chinese food. Few spices play a role in Cantonese food. Instead, Cantonese style Chinese food emphasizes clean preparations, where you can see the underlying food. Seafood, popular in all aspects of Chinese food, is especially important in Cantonese food. It is expected that Cantonese food is all stir fried, but great Cantonese food uses a bunch of preparations including steaming, baking and cooking in casseroles. I fully expect a good Cantonese meal to wow me from all sides of the kitchen, and one kitchen that always wows me is Happy Chef.
I had the good fortune of dining with a very large group at Happy Chef the other night. As always, it was a great meal. Too much food, so I have to run through the list pretty quickly, what we ate. All meals at Happy Chef start with complimentary soup. Perhaps my sucker-ness for freebies influences my love of Happy Chef, but the soup always puts me right for more to come. Since the soup contains a few spare chicken feet and other odds and ends, I always jokingly call it leftover dim sum soup. Actually, the dominant feature of the soup is big chewy, whole pieces of conch, looking very much of the shell. Not a pretty soup, but a nice soup.
Did I say quick run? I'll try again. Crabs AND lobster stir fried in ginger and green onion and impossible to eat with chop sticks; green beans dry cooked with sliced pork, straying to the mainstream; pea shoots with more conch, getting back to the more authentic; tofu stuffed with shrimp paste in hot pot, the blander course; clams in a tiny wok of broth; beef in sizzling platter with too much black pepper and thin pork chops in a honeyed brown sauce, both dishes belying the notion that Cantonese dishes are all plain; soft boiled chicken with a dressing of ginger and green onion; and finally, Peking duck served in 2 courses. The meal ends with a second soup, red bean with sweet balls. A soup I like better for its complimentary nature than its succor.
I love Happy Chef so much that I can safely say that a couple of things were not perfect. I really dug the clam preparation. It left the clams soft but with integrity, but the clams themselves were overly gritty. Great dish that could have been greater. The pancakes for the duck were not the usual rubbery moo shu things. Rather, smaller discs, studded with seeds, breadier, but also dry and flour-y in parts. Because it was such a large group, service was a non-factor. In past visits, I have always felt comfortable at Happy Chef. It is easy to order here without any language skills.
Happy Chef fits into all the stereotypes of no nonsense Chinese eating. Decor would be the tanks with live seafood. Lighting makes no woman look pretty. Best (worse?), the tables are covered in a mille feuille of plastic. When one table finishes, the staff rolls up everything not worth keeping, ties it into a knot, and prepares for new eaters.
Happy Chef
2164 S. Archer Ave (Chinatown Mall)
Chicago, IL
312-808-3689
More Upscale
Smith and Wollensky
Below, I discuss the nature of upscale ethnic eateries, the difficulty in labeling and the difficulty in achieving. What about the question of upscale non-ethnic. Not so much fine dining, but upscale comfort food, or more as I would think of it, upscale "American" food. Smith and Wollensky is pretty much categorized as a steakhouse, but I always think of it as an American restaurant, as upscale comfort food (comforting in the sense that it is my food).
First, I always slightly hate myself for liking S&W so much. It is both a New York import and a very corporate place (in several meanings). If half the point of its appeal is that it is my food, well should not my food come from Chicago and in a much more cool setting ? Yet, they do it so well, so much as I like it, that I must ignore its invader status or its chain nature. Second, I confess to a slight bit of non-objectivity. I have been provided an insider tour of the place, spending so much time in the dry aging-meat locker that I got a cold. Knowing all the effort they put into their food, and such secrets as how the meat gets a dip in melted suet, does make me that much more inclined to like the place.
And I love it. Not for the steaks. I almost never get one of those steaks, one of the few (perhaps only) dry aged steaks in Chicago. Instead, I love the rest of the menu. It speaks tradition to me. I feel like I am eating roughly the same meals as Diamond Jim Brady, and while I know Diamond Jim never tasted "Angry Lobster," I believe he would have loved it if given the opportunity. I also love their casino service. You know where there are several layers of management all on the floor, each with responsibilities and each making sure someone else follows theirs.
More than 2/3rds of the time at S&W, I order and eat the roast beef hash. A cast iron skillet holding a bunch crisped bits of trimmings from the dry aged meat mixed with potatoes. The white hot pan crisps the potatoes for extra. The whole thing gets lubricated with the fat of an egg yolk AND hollandaise. Plus, the bite of chive. I am not a chive/raw onion person at all, but in this dish it works so well. Surely not an everyday dish but an always enjoyable dish.
The other day, I strayed from the hash to another standard, the burger. Yes, a better burger with delicious blue cheese, and even at $8.75, a bargain. We also got the Friday fish fry, and here more than the burger, S&W showed how they are just a better diner. Nothing exotic about this dish, no tempura batter or panko breading or anything at all modern. Just fried fish as could be found in any supper club, but with pristine fillets, nary a bit of extra grease and with a perfect homemade tartar sauce. The tartar sauce tasted both light on the tongue but heavy in flavor. Siding both dishes (and for me just another reason to avoid the plain steak) are some of the best fries around (again better than any diner). Slightly limp instead of brazenly crisp, the way I prefer, what really set these fries apart was their salting. I am not sure if the salt was something really upscale, a Breton sea salt, but it was something a bit special, a grain larger than table salt but flatter than typical kitchen salt (i.e., Kosher salt). I should also add that the Condiment Queen loved a lobster cocktail with a smooth and herby green sauce, priced way too reasonably at $7.75 (partially offset by the fish special at the not that cheap at $18).
All around at S&W, I saw more American food. Whole roast chickens sliced tableside. A meatloaf that put the loaf in meat loaf, no modern embellishments either, really looked good. I have in the past, gone gaga over their mashed potatoes, creamed spinach, fried onions and fried zucchini. I always like their salads. The Caesar the other day was just as expected. As with soups at Halina's, I am fairly confident ordering anything on the menu here. S&W comes about as close to an ideal restaurant for me, one I could, if I had the budget and office location, eat at daily.
Smith and Wollensky
Below, I discuss the nature of upscale ethnic eateries, the difficulty in labeling and the difficulty in achieving. What about the question of upscale non-ethnic. Not so much fine dining, but upscale comfort food, or more as I would think of it, upscale "American" food. Smith and Wollensky is pretty much categorized as a steakhouse, but I always think of it as an American restaurant, as upscale comfort food (comforting in the sense that it is my food).
First, I always slightly hate myself for liking S&W so much. It is both a New York import and a very corporate place (in several meanings). If half the point of its appeal is that it is my food, well should not my food come from Chicago and in a much more cool setting ? Yet, they do it so well, so much as I like it, that I must ignore its invader status or its chain nature. Second, I confess to a slight bit of non-objectivity. I have been provided an insider tour of the place, spending so much time in the dry aging-meat locker that I got a cold. Knowing all the effort they put into their food, and such secrets as how the meat gets a dip in melted suet, does make me that much more inclined to like the place.
And I love it. Not for the steaks. I almost never get one of those steaks, one of the few (perhaps only) dry aged steaks in Chicago. Instead, I love the rest of the menu. It speaks tradition to me. I feel like I am eating roughly the same meals as Diamond Jim Brady, and while I know Diamond Jim never tasted "Angry Lobster," I believe he would have loved it if given the opportunity. I also love their casino service. You know where there are several layers of management all on the floor, each with responsibilities and each making sure someone else follows theirs.
More than 2/3rds of the time at S&W, I order and eat the roast beef hash. A cast iron skillet holding a bunch crisped bits of trimmings from the dry aged meat mixed with potatoes. The white hot pan crisps the potatoes for extra. The whole thing gets lubricated with the fat of an egg yolk AND hollandaise. Plus, the bite of chive. I am not a chive/raw onion person at all, but in this dish it works so well. Surely not an everyday dish but an always enjoyable dish.
The other day, I strayed from the hash to another standard, the burger. Yes, a better burger with delicious blue cheese, and even at $8.75, a bargain. We also got the Friday fish fry, and here more than the burger, S&W showed how they are just a better diner. Nothing exotic about this dish, no tempura batter or panko breading or anything at all modern. Just fried fish as could be found in any supper club, but with pristine fillets, nary a bit of extra grease and with a perfect homemade tartar sauce. The tartar sauce tasted both light on the tongue but heavy in flavor. Siding both dishes (and for me just another reason to avoid the plain steak) are some of the best fries around (again better than any diner). Slightly limp instead of brazenly crisp, the way I prefer, what really set these fries apart was their salting. I am not sure if the salt was something really upscale, a Breton sea salt, but it was something a bit special, a grain larger than table salt but flatter than typical kitchen salt (i.e., Kosher salt). I should also add that the Condiment Queen loved a lobster cocktail with a smooth and herby green sauce, priced way too reasonably at $7.75 (partially offset by the fish special at the not that cheap at $18).
All around at S&W, I saw more American food. Whole roast chickens sliced tableside. A meatloaf that put the loaf in meat loaf, no modern embellishments either, really looked good. I have in the past, gone gaga over their mashed potatoes, creamed spinach, fried onions and fried zucchini. I always like their salads. The Caesar the other day was just as expected. As with soups at Halina's, I am fairly confident ordering anything on the menu here. S&W comes about as close to an ideal restaurant for me, one I could, if I had the budget and office location, eat at daily.
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