1. WHITHER THE TASTING MENU

I’ve been kind of debating back and forth with a friend about tasting menus. They’re making a lot of noise lately; we have Michael Muser leaving Ever on the one hand, Next restaging dinner at Charlie Trotter’s, and assorted announcements of new ones in the works—my friend just went to Johns Food and Wine for their new tasting menu, served in the front tables these days (he liked it!) To demonstrate his point, he produced a fairly prodigious list of new tasting menu places, either open now or set to open in the next year. I’m sharing my thoughts not to argue with him further, but because I’ve been thinking a lot about it, as is my wont, and I write about what I’m thinking about.

Anyway, the key phrase is “set to open in the next year.” That alone sounds like the question is settled. But what kind of tasting menus? The tasting menu style in Chicago derives from Charlie Trotter’s in the 80s. Not that he was the first to serve a bunch of courses at dinner—the prix fixe menu, where for a set price you pick, say, an appetizer, a main course, and a dessert, maybe one or two more such things along the way, has long been common in fine French dining. Jean Joho described to me what he was doing at Maxim’s in the mid-80s:

In the 80s Chicago was still a bit on the conservative side when it came to fine dining. I came up with a new approach—there was a tasting menu right away. At the time there used to be a kind of tasting menu in restaurants, but you had to order a day ahead, for a minimum of four people. At the same time I did right away a vegetarian menu. So that’s what I started and it was very successful.

That seems close to what Trotter was about to do, so he wasn’t first. But Trotter certainly set the model for the places to come—the succession of plates presented with an emphasis on visual pizzazz on the plate, prepared in an American version of nouvelle cuisine and meant to surprise and delight. Tru and Trio, Spiaggia and Topolobampo in the 1990s; Alinea, Schwa, Moto, Avenues, Graham Elliott and Grace in the early 2000s; L20, Ria, Sixteen, Next in the early 2010s; and Oriole, Smyth, Ever and Esme in the last decade all followed this Trotter model—not surprising, when you consider how many people at those restaurants had a stint at Trotter’s in their background.

One of my friend’s points is that these tasting menus are a draw for out of towners. When I went to one of Trotter’s last dinners in 2012, I sat next to a guy, some kind of developer from the DC area, whose plans for a weekend in Chicago were: dinner at Trotter’s on Friday, dinner at Alinea on Saturday, dinner at Moto on Sunday. That would kill me, but if that’s his idea of fun, good for him. In any case, such people do exist.

The question is, what kind of tasting menus are we getting now, and do they draw the same people for the same kind of experience? If you look at my chronicle of the successive waves of top-priced such places, the thinnest one is the one we’re in—Smyth and Oriole (both 2015), and Ever and Esme (2020-1). For the big, daring gestures these days, you look out of town—Single Thread, with its own farm, in Napa, or Vespertine, with its own skyscraper, in LA.

There are various reasons for this—the idea that the FDA cracking down on Big Pharma doing fancy dinners drove a lot of fancy hotels out of the high end banquet business, is one I find compelling. But I also tend to think that Alinea has sort of scared the field clear in recent years—anybody spending millions of dollars to open a place like that knows exactly who they’ll be measured against. Instead it was Alinea’s scruffy kid brother, Schwa, that created the model for the new kind of tasting menu spot—the lone chef doing kind of storefront theater dining tucked in a small room with 12 or 20 seats, pursuing their personal vision—the epitome of that being Elizabeth with its uniquely personal take on foraged dining. As I wrote in 2019:

Once, part of what justified that $200 price point was the rare ingredients that you couldn’t get at Whole Foods—truffles, caviar, foie gras, super-marbled A5 Miyazaki beef; exotica like matsutake mushrooms, fresh yuzu or sea grapes. Yet in the internet age, they’re available to any cook willing to cough up for them. That has been a big leveler in terms of who could even position themselves as serving a true fine dining meal.

And it turns out that once you can serve those things, a lot of the other things that were considered to be essential to the tasting menu experience… weren’t. You can paint your restaurant like a dorm room and play heavy metal or hiphop and have the chefs take their plates out to the table, and draw a crowd. You may not get three Michelin stars—Michelin, for all they say it’s just about the food, has a surprising preference for (you’ll never guess) fancy dining a la Europe c. 1954, no matter what we’re doing in Chicago in 2025—but you can probably get one star out of them. (Unless you’re Jeong.)

The interesting thing is what happened once we started having this kind of storefront theater fine dining as a way for people with fine dining experience to do their own thing by their own lights, and not feel like their only choice was to raise five million dollars and charge five hundred for dinner. The next thing you didn’t have to do was stick to French models, or Trotter’s American version of European models. Jeong served French-meets-Korean, and since then we’ve gotten Cariño (Mexican), Indienne (South Asian), Kasama and Bayan Ko (Filipino), Hermosa and Khmai (Cambodian), Maman Zari and Beity (Persian and Lebanese), and of course various Japanese omakase places (though I feel they’re kind of their own thing and not part of any recent trend). In 2019 I said that tasting menus were “a Hail Mary play for instant acclaim from chefs who’ve been working out of the limelight,” and in 2025 they’re a play for instant acclaim for any cuisine that wants to try to get taken as seriously as French or Japanese. (Ironically, the one world cuisine you really can’t find in tasting menus today is French.)

Okay, cool, so the world is evolving, just as it did when Trotter started putting abstract drips and dabs on plates. But a tasting menu is a tasting menu, right? Ennh… kind of. I feel what drew people to Chicago was not just the idea of twelve courses full of surprises, but showmanship, a whole host of tricks and techniques that captivated people. It was Black Truffle Explosion and Graham Ellott making a Caesar salad into a Twinkie and Moto making an edible menu and Phillip Foss making you lick your first course off the plate.

Will the trick being “Filipino, but ten courses” be the same kind of draw? I tend to think not (though there’s the counterexample of upscale Thai food at Arun’s, which was another choice on that short list of places to go for out-of-towners back in the Trotter’s/Tru days). Anyway, much as I like many of these places, it remains to be proven that out-of-towners will travel here for that, versus Alinea.

In the meantime we’re supposed to get a genuine, funded-by-a-zillionaire, standalone tasting menu joint later this year—The Jackson, with a Jackson Pollock theme, a Detroit-based chef, and backed by Dan Gilbert, co-owner of the Cleveland Cavaliers. So that makes three for the 2020s—or almost as many as we have Filipino tasting menus. Is that enough to get developers from DC onto a plane? We shall see—or maybe the whole idea of tasting menus is about to reinvent itself almost four decades after Trotter’s changed the (high end) world.

2. NOT ALL TASTING MENUS

At Dish, Anthony Todd talks about some other new restaurants coming to our town in the next few months. Here’s the only specific mention of a tasting menu—add the Balkans to that list of tasting menu-worthy cuisines:

Eastern European chic is coming to Chicago in a big way in 2025, with upscale versions of a couple of cuisines that Chicago isn’t used to seeing downtown with white tablecloths. Ambar, a Balkan-inspired restaurant with a set price for an unlimited tasting menu of small plates, opens in April, and Spoko, a new Polish restaurant that focuses on street food, opened a couple of weeks ago.

3. VERKAKTE FOCCACCIA

I mentioned the challenge of getting into Chicago’s newest hot-hot-hot tavern cut pizza place, Pizz’Amici, and now Michael Nagrant does the same:

All anyone really wants to know is whether it’s worth selling your first born or taking a day off work to refresh OpenTable in the hopes of catching a golden reservation to the newish West Town pizza spot from Cecily and Billy Federighi.

That my friends is what I’m here to tell you.

If you love focaccia, the answer is yes.

If you’re here for the tavern-style pizza, then it’s a little more complicated.

Great, now I have to go back… sometime in 2027, probably.

4. BOSTON MARKET (NOT THAT ONE)

I heard about Boston Fish Market (how did they get away with that name and not get a cease and desist from a certain chicken chain?) on LTHForum years ago, but I’ve never been to the fish market and restaurant, which has locations in Des Plaines and Wheeling. Steve Dolinsky visits it in its busy season, aka Lent:

“Anything that swims, we have it. And always fresh,” [owner Louis Psihogios] said. “We import from Japan, we import from Greece, Spain, Europe, Alaska, Hawaii,” said Psihogios. “Also, I have my own boats: Canada for freshwater fish – walleye, whitefish, lake perch, smelts.”

Enormous tuna from Hawaii, wild salmon, Branzino, mountains of calamari. And with Lent underway, Psihogios says he notices a major bump in business.

“Lent it increases about 20 to 30 percent. That’s huge. Every day you can see it now, every day the same thing – they buy the fresh fish, they put together at home, dine-in,” he said.

5. OLD FAVORITES FOR NEW CHICAGOANS

The Infatuation may be mostly read by newcomers to Chicago—and the list of things they review this week strongly support that thesis, being mostly places locals have been to for years, including Lou Mitchell’s, Calumet Fisheries, Vito and Nick’s, and Birrieria Zaragoza:

The goat platter is where it’s at, which comes with delicious tortillas, cilantro, hot peppers, and onions so you can make a few tacos on your own. Also feel free to add goat quesadillas or consommé as you please. Follow these simple instructions and you too can say you’ve had “the best” of a certain food. Who knows, maybe eating more goat will help the Cubs win another World Series. A kid can dream.

6. TIGER MON

Titus Ruscitti goes to a new Korean place Michael Nagrant just talked about, Mister Tiger:

We were told that the Galbi-jjim was the kitchens signature, and most strenuous, dish. Galbi-jjim is a royal dish which pairs slow-cooked short rib with rice cakes and a variety of expertly cut vegetables in a rich and tangy sauce. It takes time to cook the short ribs down and slice all the veggies perfectly. This was the dish I knew I wanted to try before we stepped foot inside the restaurant so I was all in upon hearing it was their specialty and it was easy to see why upon that first bite. Actually I knew it was good even before the first bite as I sliced a perfectly shaped piece of short rib precisely down the middle with zero resistance whatsoever. Come to think of it this was one of the most faultlessly braised pieces of meat I’ve ever come across. I thought about visiting again before posting this just so I could try all the other stuff that both looked and sounded good but in the end I decided this meal in and of itself was enough to make Mister Tiger an early entry among the years best new restaurants.

7. APNA DOUBLEDAY

I’ve seen a place called Apna Indian Grill & Bar while driving up Elston, but I’ve never been, because I don’t entirely trust Indian not on Devon (or in certain suburbs). But a couple of people have talked about it lately, including Dennis Lee:

We started with a few snacks, including the bhel puri ($9.95), which is puffed rice tossed with finely minced red onions, potatoes, peanuts, chiles, and a tamarind mint sauce.

I’ve had bhel puri a few times before, and what’s interesting is that all of them have been slightly different from one another. I particularly like the light puffy crunch from the rice interspersed with the sharp bits of onion and meatier bits of smashed potatoes here, and the tart sauce brightens it all up. And even though it looks innocent, there’s a slight pleasant heat level to it.

I’m intrigued by having bhel puri in a restaurant, because years ago my kids were in a parent/child program where I had to make a snack for the class a couple of times a year, and between the other kids’ and parent’s various allergies and aversions (like meat), I settled on bhel puri as something I could safely make for the whole group.

8. THE RANDOMNESS OF AWARDS

The Trib just published its Readers Choice awards, and it’s a damned odd list, which I suspect reflects a degre of organized campaigning for votes—how else did an obscure LGBT-owned coffee shop on a quiet strip in Norwood Park on the northwest side win Best Coffeeshop? (October Cafe looks good, I’ll go check it out sometime, but had anybody not within a few blocks of it heard of it before now?) Newcomers that also got awards include century-old Italian Village and 40-year-old youngster Cafe Ba-Ba-Reeba. Oh well, here’s the link, you might find something new.

Meanwhile, the Reader happened to put up its 2024 food and drink awards this same week, and it’s a comfy list of places you’d expect: Red Hot Ranch manages to take both Best Burger and Best Bang For Your Buck. Can’t argue with those.

9. EDZTACK

While Eddie Lakin decides what to do next after closing Edzo’s, he’s got a new Substack evolved out of the blog that predated Edzo’s, Chicagomatic. And he’s starting off by building up inventory with old pieces from the blog a decade and more ago. (Hey, you didn’t read them then, or don’t remember them if you did!) I really liked one he just reposted from 2012, about customers who can’t handle blood (which isn’t blood) dripping from their burgers:

Coincidentally, this happened at a time when Rob and Allie Levitt from The Butcher & The Larder were in having lunch, so Rob and I were naturally chatting about beef as I bopped around the restaurant doing this and that.

At one point, Rob and I were up by the counter talking, and the “no blood” lady comes up, holding her burger up above the paper tray. It looks awesome and it’s just dripping juice, but she’s making this “I’m kind of repulsed” face and is clearly not pleased. I try and reassure her that what she’s seeing is not blood, but juice, and is a good thing, a sign of how fresh the beef is. I start to swap out her juice-filled paper tray for a new one, and Rob and I chuckle about the fact that her burger was made with beef from Slagel Farm that Rob cut and I ground, and that the animal was alive maybe 5 days ago.

I tried explaining this to the lady in a way that she’d be able to understand, without getting into too much detail. This is an interesting thing that’s happened as a result of this recent farm-to-table trend that’s happening. Some people aren’t quite ready to be so close to their food. Being closer to our food means sometimes seeing stuff that we believe we’re supposed to be repulsed by.

10. LISTEN UP (HISTORY EDITION)

The Dining Table: David Manilow digs into his archive for clips from chefs talking about Thai food, from Jake Potashnick of Feld to an interview with someone who was once a big name in Chicago food, but whose restaurant closed pretty quietly last year: Arun Sampanthavivat (Arun’s).

Joiners: talks to the great Carrie Nahabedian (Brindille).

WHAT MIKE ATE

I went with some friends to Nafsi, the restaurant now in the South Shore Country Club (where Jake and Elwood Blues played their show at the end of The Blues Brothers, making it nearly impossible for me to not make “I hate Illinois Nafsis!” jokes). Anyway, it’s a stylish place that probably does a ton of brunch business, which is not normally a recommendation for dinner for me. But I had hopes it would at least be pretty good upscale soul food—and I have to say, it exceeded those expectations.

We started with some crawfish cakes and some fried green tomatoes (how do you find those in late February?), served with burrata topped with a drizzle of balsamic vinegar—too much of a muchness to me, but I guess it’s a thing, because one of the people there said they’d had a similar version at Lamar Moore’s etc. Anyway, we mostly had fish—catfish with grits for one, salmon for another, shrimp bucatini for me—all of which were first-rate and prepared with professional care rather than the hominess you might expect on the south side, and finished up with a bananas Foster bread pudding which was exemplary, rich like creme brulee and crisped up around the edges. Don’t know how soon I’ll return to 7oth street for dinner, but if you have a reason to go, you’ll like it!

After listing a lot of Korean food in last week’s edition, I was eager to check out Mister Tiger. Fat chance; it’s booked up at least a week ahead. So I thought about hitting one of those new Korean BBQ places in Niles, 336 Korean BBQ, in a stripmall just east of Milwaukee on Golf. It looked exactly like I expected it too—Asian restaurant hipneess, narrow gray horizontal stone tiles on the walls, various water fixtures lit up and bubbling. The tables had gas burners; I knew what had been suggested by Dan Zemans at LTHForum, so I quickly ordered marinated galbi and pork belly and panchan were just as quickly laid out on our table. The comments at LTH suggested that I’d be wowed by the quality of the meat, but… not so much. It was all nice, but I can’t say anything was so flavorful or, well, Korean enough to make me eager to go back. Oh well, next I can try the BBQ place Steve Dolinsky went to, and make a reservation in advance for Mister Tiger (not BBQ but Korean).

Note: I’m off to one of my wife’s legal meetings in a warmer place, so no Buzz List next week and probably not the one after that (unless I get bored). So back by the 31st, if not sooner.