NOTE TO EMAIL RECIPIENTS: Mailchimp, which is who sends this out to subscribers, had an outage last night, so you probably didn’t reveive this until the middle of the night. Sorry!
1. OYSTERS OR SNAILS
So a few weeks back I mentioned that I had been somewhere that was terrific and unlike anything else in Chicago… but I was sworn to secrecy by the person who led a group of us there and wanted to be able to break the news. Well, John Kessler’s review is finally out, so here’s my summary of it: go, but keep his review handy, because it’s a big, somewhat unfamiliar menu and you’ll benefit, as we did that night, from his guidance. The place is called Ocean Grill & Bar, it’s on Canal between Chinatown and… more Chinatown, though people keep trying to call it East Pilsen—and behind that generic-sounding name is a Vietnamese reataurant like no other in town:
Platters of shellfish crowd nearly every table at this gem of a restaurant, which hides in plain sight in the Chinatown-Pilsen borderlands. Those dishes alone would be enough for me to encourage you to eat here. Yet there’s so much more going on, including a contender for the best pho in the city and a number of iconic Vietnamese dishes you won’t find elsewhere.
Chef and co-owner Ricky Dinh, a veteran cook, worked up and down Argyle’s Asian corridor before opening his first restaurant, Little Vietnam, a decade ago in Edgewater. It is the kind of solid neighborhood spot that keeps folks coming back for spring rolls and noodle bowls. Yet he kept thinking about the Vietnamese seafood houses he visited in Orange County, California — places with a direct line to fish importers and fresh noodle shops.
You’ll find giant oysters, plump snails you have to pry out of spiral shells, razor clams, and noodle dishes studded with lobster meat. All that’s fine, sometimes terrific, but what really made this place sing for me was the assortment of sauces and potions on the table:
Among the jars and bottles, you’ll find a pot of chopped red chiles marinating in fish sauce, a couple of drops of which make any dish sing. I could come here and just order pork belly skewers, charred and crispy, dab this sauce on it, and call it keto perfection.
All over Chinatown you’ll find jars of chili crisp and black vinegar on tables, but the condiments here are on another level, usually starting with fish sauce but each taking it in a different direction via a variety of spices. If a dish comes with a sauce, like the garlic butter that the snails swim in, enjoy it and get a hunk of baguette to soak it up with. If it doesn’t, add your own from the table and dig in, deeply.
2. FOODLES IN REVIEWDLES
This is going to be a double-barreled item. First, in the Trib, Louisa Chu reviews Tre Dita, fancy-schmancy new Lettuce place in that new skyscraper full of expensive new Lettuce restaurants:
Funke said when he initially talked about Tre Dita with Lettuce co-founder Rich Melman, and his son and president of the restaurant group, R.J. Melman, they talked about a Tuscan steakhouse. Because Tuscany celebrates beef and so does Chicago, the chef said. Then they realized they wanted a Tuscan experience. There just so happens to be quite a bit of beef on the menu, he added, but there are far more pastas and antipasti on the menu than there is beef.
Especially pastas. There’s a signature Funke pasta lab as you walk toward the restaurant.
Barrel #2: Michael Nagrant’s latest review, headlined “R.I.P Chicago Tribune Food Criticism & the Out of Town Celebrity Chef Trend,” starts by reviewing the Trib’s food coverage—specifically its near-extinction:
The Trib always had the resources and the “I went to j-school” survivor’s guilt to make sure to at least answer the basic questions that no one else could. As the internet gave us more idiosyncratic writing options and access to truly transcendent storytelling, the one reason for the old guard Trib to continue to exist was that it could do some of these things no one else had the resources to touch.
What is the basic question he wants answered? For Nagrant, in this review, it’s whether a $290 steak offering at Tre Dita is worth it. He objects that Chu doesn’t answer that question, and instead (over multiple visits) tries ten of the pastas they have. Well, that’s his question, but it isn’t Chu’s nor, I must admit, is it mine. Steak is steak and 300 simoleons is too much for it, to me—at least there are plenty of ways to get the same carnivore satisfaction for less. But the “pasta lab” indicates, at least, a claim at taking a relatively simple genre 0f dishes with unusual seriousness.
In any case I’m less concerned about whether a Trib reviewer picked a particular entree than about the fact that the Trib, down one reviewer and unlikely to replace him, runs so few reviews anyway next to all the syndicated food content they run now. Given a choice, the expensively glitzy, no doubt busy as hell Tre Dita is not the one I would choose to write about at all, not in a world where your other choices, all unreviewed as yet by the Trib, might include the likes of more innovative and personal places like as Maxwells Trading, Cariño, John’s Food and Wine, Brasero, etc. etc.
But the reason they devoted apparently in-short-supply expense bucks and column inches to this very high end spot is simple: it has a celebrity chef in Los Angeles import Evan Funke. And it is on this subject that both Chu and Nagrant find the revealing insight. First Chu:
But his pasta is different in Chicago. I wondered, has that style evolved and literally softened?
“It absolutely has,” Funke said. Al dente is on a spectrum, he added, and it’s also very subjective. “What is considered al chiodo in Rome is like super crazy hard to everybody else.”
Then Nagrant:
But then again, Chu ordered ten pastas for her review over two visits. So why not order five pastas and use the rest of the budget on the bistecca? What can you possibly learn from ten pastas that you can’t learn from five?
It turns out that you learn that even when you think one of the pastas is too soft by your trained critical palate, the chef will tell you otherwise.
…I guess this is progress, but also it feels like that thing where the outsider chef comes to Chicago, sees us as meat and potatoes rubes, and realizes we just can’t handle toothsome pasta, and delivers us Gerber baby foodles instead.
3. TRE FINGERS
In other Tre Dita news, Grimod at Understanding Hospitality has that steak. But first, he is very simpatico to my own views on where the news is in today’s scene, talking about his recent reviews of Bon Yeon and Cariño:
Finer details aside, Bon Yeon and Cariño were both bold, independent restaurants that bet on Chicagoans spending hundreds of dollars to sample creative fare within novel genres (i.e., Korean “beef omakase,” pan-Latin American gastronomy) at intimate chef’s counters. They each spoke to the enduring primacy of design, of performance, of potential connection with the “master craftsperson” that undergird the emotional dimension of a meal. Further, they each introduced obscure ingredients and techniques to mainstream consumers, imbuing luxury with a trace of education that expands minds (and palates) well beyond the scope of one individual menu.
From there, we get to a well-thought-out account of Lettuce’s and all of Chicago’s top restaurant groups over last decade or so, noting the fall of high end arty dining within the company (as the likes of L20, Tru and Everest all closed) and the rise of the next generation’s idea of fine dining with the likes of the Omakase Room at Sushi-San, at the same time as The Alinea Group tiptoed into, then back out of, high end projects—including in the building where Tre Dita is. It’s well worth reading to understand the evolution of our most influential restaurant group—and the class it belongs to.
But how’s that $290 steak?
The ”Bistecca alla Fiorentina” ($290), by all accounts, is the bigger, better version of the [$240] “Costata”—one befitting the actual label of “steak.” This 60-day dry-aged, 42-ounce prime porterhouse arrives with its sizable bone pointed toward the sky. It is seasoned in the same manner as its predecessor and comes joined by the same side dishes.
…The salt and olive oil are, again, astutely applied, yielding bite after bite of pleasure with no unfortunate blandness. The dry-aging also surely plays a part, with those 60 days not amounting to flavors that are too funky but, rather, just savory and mushroomy enough to help distinguish the meat. This effect is especially pronounced on the finish, which stands as a dream pairing for any robust red wine. Overall, Funke has absolutely nailed his preparation of the restaurant’s namesake item, and, while you slightly favor the flavor and form of the “Costata,” the “Bistecca” is a triumph in its own right.
So the info is out there—you just have to know where to look for it, not in a mainstream publication.
4. NEIGHBORHOOD ASIAN
If Ocean Grill is this week’s Asian food find—new and different and exciting—Titus Ruscitti offers the opposite end of discovery: a look at neighborhood Asian places one might pass by without a second glance, bearing generic names like Peking Mandarin or My Place—but which have the occasional outstanding dish. For instance, the only one of his I’ve been to is Jess’ Cafe, but I knew nothing of the dish he highlights:
Jess Cafe (5819 W. Belmont) is the type of place where there’s just too many things on the menu. So going in blind is likely to lead to disappointment though it’s been around for more than a decade so they clearly have fans. I’m one of them though I’m more of a fan of a specific dish – the beef cubes over tomato rice. This is one of those dishes you don’t see too often. Whenever I see something that’s new to me it catches my attention. I first decided to try this due to a few of the reviews and also bc I could tell from the pictures it was my type dish and that it is. They take tender chunks of beef tenderloin and sear them up really nicely with soy sauce and other seasonings before throwing it all on a big plate of tomato rice. This exquisite Viet dish with French and Chinese influence is the only thing I’ve ever tried here aside from a smoothie.
5. NO CRYING IN BAKERIES
Steve Dolinsky visits Spilt Milk Pastry—no relation to the bar in Logan Square, but a bakery in Oak Park:
If you truly eat with your eyes, then you’re going to be full before you even get to dessert at Spilt Milk Pastry, which sits across the street from the end of the CTA Green Line in Oak Park. Quiche, coffee and hand pies, including a sweet potato curry with brown butter are all good starters, but there’s no shame in just heading straight for the pies, which range from a textbook lemon meringue to their more seasonal ones.
By the way, Dolinsky will do a half-hour TV special—his first in 21 years, he says—on Monday at 4:20 pm, channel 5. Not sure what the subject will be, beyond Chicago food.
6. PORKY PIG’S FEAT
Dennis Lee goes to Niles for a Korean dish not as well-known as K-BBQ:
What we’re here for is barely advertised to as a house specialty, aside from a lone wooden sign on the wall, written in Korean.
…pork feet are braised with soy sauce, garlic, ginger, and other seasonings, occasionally including cinnamon and star anise, both of which are uncommon ingredients in Korean cooking. The meat is thinly sliced and presented on top of its own bones, which have bits of additional meat on them to chew off.
Pork feet contain a ton of different textures due to their connective tissue. You’ll get a generous layer of fat, chewy skin, tender fall-apart sections and lean ones, all within the same slice. If you have problems with rubbery textures, jokbal is definitely not for you, but if you can get over that initial hump, I think you’ll do just fine.
7. HAVE KNIVES, WILL TRAVEL
Chefs are always coming to Chicago to collaborate, Chicago chefs are always heading off to other places… Ari Bendersky looks at why they do it and what they get out of it. Here’s Genie Kwon and Tim Flores of Kasama:
These experiences allow Kwon and Flores to introduce their Kasama team to other restaurant cultures, explore new cities, and experience different restaurants. It helps them pick up new techniques, hone their skills, and also study new methods and systems to bring back to Kasama.
…Flores said if someone on their team eventually wants to move to another city, they’ll have connections with other restaurants. Down the line that could lead to new collaborations — or create opportunities for chefs who worked together years ago to get back in the kitchen together.
8. MAXWELL STREET REDUX
The news is that the Maxwell Street Market is returning to, um, Maxwell Street. Realistically, that Maxwell Street doesn’t exist any more, and one of the reasons is that as it gentrified as a commercial strip for the UIC community, the actual market, the raffish, vibrantly urban market, famous as a place where you could get both a taco and a replacement for your stolen car stereo (and some tube socks), was forced to wander the neighborhood nomadically, taking residence on various nearby streets. Now it will appear once a month among the Jamba Juices and TMobile stores of the 2024 Maxwell Mall. Gentlemen, you can’t sell stuff here, this is Maxwell Street!
Anyway, veteran writer and radio host Rick Kogan expresses his views on the idea that the Maxwell Street Market can recover some of its old flavor back on a very changed Maxwell Street:
The reason for this move is that the Desplaines site is the city’s landing zone for migrants arriving here by bus and many more buses are expected. There is some irony in that, since the area that once spread out from the corner of Maxwell and Halsted Streets, was once and for more than a century a “landing zone” for immigrants.
…But as the University of Illinois-Chicago began to expand in the early 1990s, the market eventually vanished, despite the energetic efforts of the members of the Maxwell Street Historic Preservation Coalition and others. In short, “urban renewal” order, the market was obliterated and the area rebuilt, transformed into what was called University Village.
9. PASS THE BUGS
David Hammond, who burrows up every 17 years to eat cicadas on novelty TV news stories, talks more about his philosophy of eating the occasional bug:
At this period in our history, few people in this part of North America would willingly eat a bug. I get it. Bugs do not seem even slightly appetizing, and when I recently posted about eating insects on Facebook, I got replies like the green vomiting emoticon and several with the simple response, “Nope.”
…Basically, my feeling is, if a food is traditionally and generally eaten by people in any part of the world, I will at least sample it (if only once). I will admit, however, that there are some critical exceptions to that approach.
10. THE HOURS
“A Week’s Worth of Happy Hours,” says the headline, and that’s it: Amy Cavanaugh picks a different place for a happy hour, and deal, every night of the week.
11. FARS SANDWICH
Sandwich Tribunal has a Persian version of s sub, distinguished by the use of fresh herbs, not just lettuce:
Sāndevich-e Kālbās is a Persian mortadella sandwich, served cold or room-temperature in a baguette-like roll, with pickled cucumber, tomato, lettuce, and perhaps some herbs. The descriptions vary. The Pomegranate Diaries recipe calls for Kalbas with tomato, pickle, lettuce, and mayonnaise on soft French bread. The Persian Mama on Facebook describes the sandwich as mortadella, herbs, and spicy pickles on crusty baguette. The “Fusion Food Blog” specifies a soft baguette or fresh sub roll with kalbas, tomatoes, Persian pickles, and lots of mayonnaise. Others have made it with flatbreads or with a type of rustic ciabatta roll called bulki in Iran.
12. RANKING IN THE TOP 40 OF THE NEXT 50
Newsicles about listicles: Smyth ranked number 90 on the World’s 50 Best Restaurants. Wait, what? Well, it’s called the World’s 50 Best, but like all those lists, they really drag it out with dozens of runners-up, to amke sure that every place has something to run a story like this one. Anyway, you can see Smyth at #90 here. The top 50 eill be announced on June 5.
Meanwhile, in a little more practical news for those of us who don’t have private jets, Chicago did very well on a list by World’s Best Steaks, whoever that is; Asador Bastian placed at #14 out of 101, followed by Bazaar Meat (39), Swift & Sons (62), Bavette’s (67), GT Prime (75), and Gibson Italia (80).
13. LISTEN UP
At The Dining Table, a fun experiment: David Manilow took some European visitors around town. Then he compares notes after with one of them.
In the second episode in a row featuring someone I interviewed for my book, Joiners talk to Chris Gerber of Smyth (and formerly Alinea) about life in three Michelin star-land. No link because it doesn’t seem to have one at their site yet, but look on a podcast app, it’s up already. Anyway, I really liked the story (which they put in a preview clip on Instagram) about the producer of Chef’s Table coming to Smyth.
One of our best chefs, Andrew Zimmerman of Sepia/Proxi, is on an iHeart Radio podcast called Full Comp to talk :”how patience can be a competitive advantage.”
WHAT MIKE ATE
A couple of weeks ago I wrote about how tasting menus had become the province of different cuisines besides the usual French-influenced and Japanese ones.* Thinking about that, in part because of the place I was about to go for my anniversary, it got me thinking about how you adapt a cuisine to make it saleable as a three-digit, multicourse dinner. At one end there’s a place like Hermosa, where the value is getting such a deep immersion in someone’s native cuisine, even to the extent of his (now-deceased) mom making some of his childhood dishes, that you feel less like being in a restaurant than being invited to someone’s home. But most restaurants have to be, you know, restaurants, not a spell-like evocation of the chef’s childhood. So they have to find some way to satisfy your expectations for a fancy dinner… from a different cultural point of view.
I’ve had multiple Mexican tasting menus, from Topolobampo to Quintonil in Mexico City and several in Oaxaca (which is easily the best deal in such that I’ve seen, incidentally). A couple of years ago, I had Norman Fenton’s at Brass Heart, and thought that he should have changed the name, so it would be seen as a fully new restaurant (and thus eligible for various things, like the next Chicago mag Best New Restaurants list). Well, he’s done exactly that, busting out a wall to make the kitchen open and allow chef’s counter seating, and renaming it Cariño, which basically means “darling” (he married a woman he met while working in Tulum).
So how do you make Mexican flavors work in a tasting menu format? The easiest way is to plus things up with already accepted luxe ingredients—one of the best dishes is a Mexican take on something that Schwa vet Fenton made many times there, Black Truffle Explosion. This time the raviolo has huitlacoche in it, but since I’ve never really been convinced by the hype that claims huitlacoche is the Mexican truffle, it also uses a bit of truffle flavor to give you the aromatic effect of the truffle explosion. But there’s a lot else to it that comes from a very prosaic, universal ingredient: corn. Of course huitlacoche is a corn fungus, but there’s also a foamy corn broth, ringed by bits of flash-fried corn silk—the result is a corn dish with a hint of truffle, entirely respectable as an evolution of a classic dish, not just a variation on it.
There was also a kind of corn porridge, which you ate by scooping it up with a broken off bit of chicharron dusted with BBQ spice; and of course anything taco-like (including one course of different forms of tacos or tostadas) is house-made of corn masa. (Everything in the restaurant’s taco omakase uses that, of course.) Beyond that, you get a pretty sophisticated integration of various classic Mexican flavors: there’s a very Schwa-like gag at the beginning in which “chips and salsa” comes as a gelled disc of “salsa” on a spoon, sitting atop a powder of tortilla chips. Mole is the sauce for a sweetbread course; at dessert time, a churro comes with Mexican coffee—brewed with duck stock instead of water. And so on.
Of all the cuisines from outside the Franco-Japanese nexus currently offered in tasting menu format, Cariño’s seems the most sophisticated, assured at delivering dishes that resemble the format of dishes you’re used to in tasting menus but take them in new directions… that you’re used to from a completely different cuisine and type of restaurant. Which is why the one surprise was that the trio of masa-based dishes—a bit of a preview of the taco omakase—seemed too refined, muted, to capture the street food robustness of tacos or tostadas. I look forward to trying the taco omakase soon, to see if there’s a way to make that kind of Mexican food… work as this new kind of Mexican food.
* Interesting point that just occurred to me—you know what cuisine we’ve never had in a tasting format, at least outside of Next? Italian.