Posts in the ‘Gourmet Fusion’ Category

Girl and the Goat, Fulton Market

Sunday, April 3rd, 2011

she said:

Hey, remember when Pig Face was an insult rather than a gourmet entrée?  Remember when brains and bones went into the trash rather than onto the menu?  When beef tongue was a by-product rather than a delicacy?  No?  That’s okay.  Me neither.

Over the last ten years, charcuterie has become so trendy that it’s almost passé.   Good thing there’s a new craze: offal and end bits.  Last summer, I attended a pig roast where one hipster guest insisted that we save him the eyeballs.  Which we did.  And which he ate with delight, popping one shrunken orb into his mouth and then the other.

To be clear, I have absolutely no problem with this trend.  It’s all the same to me and, really, what’s the difference between eating a muscle and eating an organ?  I’m simply pointing out that the same dishes (popular in most other countries, I realize) that would have once induced a gag reflex (in this country) now inspire a dainty napkin-to-lip dab and a breathy, Magnifique!

I think we can blame/laud Top Chef winner Stephanie Izard, and her highly acclaimed restaurant, Girl and the Goat, for her place at the forefront of this meat movement.  Several people advised me that I wouldn’t be able to eat much at Girl and the Goat, so with that warning in my cap, along with the  letdown that usually accompanies so much buzz, I prepared myself for disappointment, even after waiting two months for our reservation.

Guess what?  I was blown away.  Yes, her menu features Bison Butt and Pork Belly, but it also features 10 truly spectacular vegetable-inspired dishes (I say veg-inspired, because they’re not all vegetarian. Even some of the desserts include pork). The dishes are “small plates” so we ordered 5 to share.

The highlights:

The Chickpea Fritters, though very salty, were a textural delight, served with goat feta and a mix of green and fried chickpeas, along with hazelnut hummus and a yummy red hot sauce.

The Roasted Cauliflower, tossed with mint, lemon juice, pickled peppers, pine nuts and parmesan (I think), was a startlingly fabulous flavor combination.

And my favorite:  the Kabucha Squash Ravioli, tossed in a mushroom ragout with popped capers, raisins, and brussels leaves.   The sauce, perhaps Thai-inspired, was reminiscent of a coconut curry and it almost made me weep.

As you may have guessed, I didn’t eat any animal parts so I’ll have to leave the meat review to my husband.   The point is, my gastro-delight was unhindered by my vegetarianism.  You don’t have to be a meat lover to fall in love with Girl and the Goat; you just have to be a food lover.  Plus, my herbivorous ways mean there’s more snout for all of you!

he said:

Of all the restaurants where we’ve eaten in the year and a half since I’ve been here, G&TG (acronyms!) is probably the most hyped. We’d heard good things, but also comments like, “Oh, it’s not as her good first restaurant, this is just a chance to cash in on her fame since she won Top Chef.”

To all those people I say,

“Stop hating.”

There is almost nothing to complain about at G&TG. I have one quibble, which I’ll get to in a bit. But first, spare me a moment while I list what I loved:

The dark, large interior that reminded me of a loft. The blackened wood wall, looking like the survivor of a barn fire, that cut the dining room in two. The open view into the bustling kitchen. Our great waitress, who was so friendly I added her as a Facebook friend right there on my phone (not true, but our waitress rocked). The fact that they source their food from local farms. Loved all of it.

And oh my god, the soundtrack. The music in the background was like they tapped into my iPod. Maybe they took a peek at my playlist when I took my phone out to friend our waitress (still not true).  Classic rock, mixed with modern rock, Americana and folk. The wife and I caught ourselves mouthing the words to some of our favorites.

Comfortably creative

On to the food, specifically the meat. This is the only part I didn’t love (my quibble, as promised). I really, really liked it…which is great and puts this restaurant in the Top 5% of places I’ve eaten. But there wasn’t that eye-opening, surprising, wow-moment when I popped a bite into my mouth. The kitchen is doing something inventive with traditional comfort food tastes, and that’s a big task. Inventive and traditional are awkward bedfellows, despite the fact that more and more restaurants are trying to pair them.

I love their creativity and what they’re trying to accomplish. But I only really, really liked their food.

Beyond the veggie dishes, which I enjoyed a lot, I had the Goat T-bones and the Pig Face. The T-bones actually reminded me of buffalo wings. They’re much smaller than a T-bone steak, and I was told to eat them with my hands. They’re perfectly cooked, with a spicy barbecue sauce that gives them a little kick. Fun, tasty and just as messy as wings.

The Pig Face came recommended. Delicious and decadent with all the pork fat and a fried egg on top. It was cooked crispy, then softened by the fat and drizzled with caramel that was a sweet counter to the savoriness of the pork. It came really close to a wow moment, but was so rich that the whole plate was a bit much for one person. Get this dish if you go, but try to share it.

I was hoping to be blown away by the food, and it came up a bit short. But maybe I should appreciate the fact that this restaurant had me asking for Pig Face and I wasn’t making a bad joke. I’m kind of blown away by that.


Acre, Andersonville

Tuesday, November 23rd, 2010

Photo courtesy of Urban Daddy

he said:

It seemed to happen overnight.  Charlie’s Ale House turned into Acre.  Charlie’s had been a quiet Andersonville mainstay for a long time. People seemed to like it, despite its quasi-Applebee’s atmosphere and menu.   But let’s not dwell on the past.

Thankfully, the new owners left the antique bar and beautiful old light fixtures. As near as I can tell, they didn’t do much to the interior, other than take down some decorations and slap some gray paint on the walls. It has a similar feel, though it’s  a bit more austere than good old Charlie’s.

As it turns out, the new owners aren’t exactly new.  The fine folks behind Anteprima are in charge now. What I didn’t know until I read this article was that they owned Charlie’s all along. Apparently, they’re just updating things and bringing over the chef from Anteprima to enliven the menu.

Acre is split into two restaurants. The Tap Room and the Dining Room have two completely different menus, and separate kitchens.  On one side: upscale pub grub and flat-screen TVs. On the other: American gourmet, fireplaces and artwork.  You can’t order from the Dining Room menu if you’re eating in the Tap Room, and vice versa.

The Tap Room

The beer menu is awesome. Not Hopleaf awesome, but there’s thirty beers on taps and a plethora of bottles. Our meal started with the baked feta, which was really good. Creamy and a bit tart, with a texture of cottage cheese.

Things went downhill fast when we got to the main dish. I ordered the turkey pastrami, and was kicking myself for not going with the burger.  Having lived in New York City, I  expect a pastrami sandwich to be loaded with artery-clogging goodness. What landed in front of me had as much girth as a PB&J. There were two slices of turkey pastrami between the bread. Seriously–two fricking slices. It tasted bland, and everything else on the sandwich overpowered the meat. My imaginary Jewish grandmother would be appalled.

The Dining Room

Meanwhile, on the other side of the wall…

Much better experience. If this was one of those old westerns, where the sheriff draws a line in the sand and says “which side are you on?”, I’d go with the Dining Room. Even though there are no flat screen TVs showing sporting events.

Here, I ordered the Amish chicken breast, and it was perfect. Tender and juicy, perfectly seasoned, and with one of the crispiest, tastiest skins I’ve ever had. I can’t say enough.

And the service matched the food. Whereas in the Tap Room, I’d label the staff as a little “unconcerned,” in the Dining Room, our waiter was attentive and knowledgeable.

I’ve never been to a place with a split personality, but I’d say Acre has one. Good and bad, fine dining and pub grub, delicious and disappointing. It’s hard to know what to make of this place.

There’s definitely enough potential here to warrant many return trips.  I hope they figure out a more consistent approach.   I feel like the neighborhood has traded a bedrock institution for something with more promise, but also more frustration. Each time I go, I’ll be hoping for the former, but preparing myself for the latter.

she said:

He’s right, Acre does seem a tad schizo with its two-restaurants-in-one approach.  My hunch: they’re hedging their bets with Charlie’s devotees.  The Tap Room menu is way more sophisticated than Charlie’s menu, but it hasn’t lost its hearty comfort-food appeal or its reasonable prices.  I was a huge fan of that feta dish he mentioned, but it wasn’t on the menu the last time we visited.  The selection changes daily, depending on what’s in season.  A good thing, no doubt, but be careful with your heart and don’t get too attached.

While I’m all about swapping fish sticks for oysters on the half-shell (which are actually on the menu), my sense is that the Tap Room is still finding its sea legs.  In addition to shabby service, my vegetarian mac and cheese came sprinkled with bacon bits, but there were so few that I’m pretty sure they caught their mistake and tried to remove the the evidence.  I’m on to you, Tap Room.  Like a hawk.  Oh also, when the waiter took my dish away, he dropped the cheesy spoon onto my dress.  Accidents happen, but the dish should have been taken off the bill.

The Dining Room has its act together, though.  I had the turnip graten and the celery root risotto.  Both were divine and both came topped with a hard-boiled quail egg, a fact for which I have no explanation.  The decor is rustic and modern (don’t listen to my guy; it’s changed drastically), with tractor seats and wagon wheels on the walls.

We’ve been to Acre three times since it opened up a month ago.  I forgave the mac and cheese incident and am very excited about our new neighbor.   Don’t get me wrong, Charlie’s was alright, I guess, but – sorry, Charlie – Acre is just so much cooler.


Otom, Fulton Market

Thursday, May 27th, 2010

she says:

After our incredible experience at Moto, we decided to check out its sibling restaurant and next door neighbor, Otom, for our anniversary.

When we first arrived, I thought it would be a perfect place to take my girlfriends who are traveling to Chicago next weekend for my bachelorette soiree.  The space is chic and ultra-contemporary, with bare brick walls and white wood floors.  The starkness is offset with large striped curtains and orange chairs that reminded me of Tetris blocks.  Fabulous cocktails enhance the trendy feel and the prices are reasonable for an upscale restaurant in the warehouse district.

They’re doing a lot of things right at Otom…

  1. The Pale Moon martini, made with vodka, lychee syrup, house sour and vanilla bitters, was delicious.
  2. The butter changes daily.  Our warm bread came with truffle honey butter that nearly took my breath away.
  3. The Forager’s Plate, which is their vegetarian entrée, was quite impressive.  It also changes daily; mine was a risotto cake served with grilled baby portabellas, fiddleheads* and a variety of accompanying greens, flavored with what tasted like a sesame-based reduction.
  4.  The presentation was as artful as the interior design.

But, I was much less impressed with:

  1. The “mac and cheese” (quotation marks theirs and well-deserved) – made with trofie pasta, béchamel and peas – was bland and dry.
  2. The gnocchi in the German potato salad appetizer was so doughy that I wondered if they’d forgotten to cook it.
  3. The wait between courses and drinks was inexcusable, not that they even tried to excuse it.

Also, I must share this anecdote and warning.  Don’t put your purse on the floor. Find a way to hang it on the weird cubey chairs.  A light in the floor burned my purse so badly that the bottom peeled off and when I picked it up, it skimmed my foot and resulted in a blister.  I’m not making this up.  When we told the staff, they apologized but offered nothing to compensate for the ruined bag and seared foot.   A different kind of person would take advantage of this liability. Me?  I just blog about it.

Anyway, I may not subject my bachelorette party to Otom, but I probably will go back some time.   The good parts were excellent and I learned from my experience to avoid their botched pasta interpretations.   As for the long waits, maybe they were having a bad night.  I’ll give them another chance.  If they do me wrong again, I’ll simply place my bag on the floor lighting and stay an extra hour.  Fool me once, shame on you.  Fool me twice, purse fire.  That’s what I always say.

* What are fiddleheads?  They’re the adorable and tasty unfurled fronds of young fern. They look like this:

Cute, right?

he said:

I’m on a bit of an unlucky roll here. Just as it happened to me at Anteprima, I got my hopes up about Otom and was let down. However, to be fair, I would consider Anteprima to be in the ”Oh well, my expectations were too high” letdown category. Otom, for me, was in “What’s that Lassie, Otom fell down a well?” letdown category.

Going in, I was under the impression that as Moto’s sister restaurant, Otom was run by the same chef, Homaro Cantu. I thought Otom may be the cheaper bistro version of that molecular gastronomic delight. It was not, and Cantu apparently has nothing to do with this place.

That misconception is my fault, not the restaurant’s. But I don’t want you going in with the same idea.

I found the menu to be slight, and the food to be uninspired. Unlike my lovely fiance, I liked the German potato salad gnocchi, though the texture was odd. My smoked pork chop was just boring. And the mac and cheese wasn’t even worth finishing.

So, if the lady wants to try it again, I’m not sure who she’ll go with. I have no interest in going back.

Sorry that this post is so short, but like the menu, Otom left me uninspired.


Green Zebra, West Town

Friday, January 15th, 2010

he said:


Feeling a little full of toxins after our Christmas and New Years celebrating, my beautiful girlfriend and I wanted to go out to a healthy dinner. Also, we wanted it to be just the two of us. Holiday parties are fun and waist-expanding, but a little one-on-one time was needed as well.

So we chose Green Zebra based on the fact that it was vegetarian. Should be fairly healthy, right?

Not so green when you’re driving in circles

First things first, this place is really hard to find. My lovely and talented girlfriend had just gotten me an iPhone for Christmas, and we were using the map function to get us there, but that still didn’t help. We drove in circles looking for an unmarked door. If she hadn’t been there already and remembered what it looked like, we may never have found it.

Maybe a little valet would help, too. Not a lot of parking in the neighborhood.

So we finally find the spot, and I’m unimpressed as we walk in. The place looks like it’s an old set from Miami Vice. Too be fair, it doesn’t have as much neon.

Great vegetarian food

But once the food started coming out, I was happy. Being new to eating whole meals that do not include a slaughtered animal, I’m always a little concerned when I go to a place that has just vegetarian options. I need not worry, I always enjoy these restaurants.

And Green Zebra was very good. We started with a burrata cheese course that had tangerines, pumpernickel crumbs, and a salted cucumber that was the highlight of the meal. I don’t know the difference between salted cucumber and pickle, but it tasted different and it was delicious.

That first course was the highlight of the whole meal for me. I had a parsnip and leek soup that was great on a cold night and wonderfully creamy. The faro risotto was a little dry and too straightforward to be memorable.

And the last course I had was warm braised artichoke and beet salad. I thought I might be getting a salad, for some reason. But it was a pasta dish. Well, I get why the call it a salad, based on the ingredients, but it looked and tasted like pasta. I really liked it, though, and would definitely recommend it.

I don’t know if we accomplished our goal of eating smarter—we had a big meal. But I’m sure we ate healthier than we have been. And I know we ate very well at Green Zebra.


she said:

First, a confession. I ducked out on the parking fiasco. I was trying to look all cute for our date so I wore high heels, which is just plain stupid during the winter in Chicago. He dropped me off at the front door because he’s nice.

Green Zebra is, indeed, a mostly vegetarian restaurant, but by no means is it a restaurant designed to impress only vegetarians. The food is exquisite, artfully prepared and presented. It’s gourmet without pretense (and that goes for the service too). You’re encouraged to order 3-4 plates; the menu is visually separated into categories so you pick one dish per category. The plates are small (because small is big these days), but satisfying, and the food is mostly organic and locally grown. There are usually 1-2 meat options (chicken or fish), which, to me, feels like an unnecessary fail-safe against warding off skeptical vegephobics.

For my first dish, I ordered a shaved papaya and salted mango salad, which was good but not amazing, in part because the description created an expectation that the dish didn’t meet. The salad was mostly greens and if I hadn’t been told, I’d have had no idea papayas or mangos were present. I also had the sunchoke ravioli with a poached quail egg – yum – and the celery root crepe – double yum. Two thumbs up for creative approaches to winter vegetables.

I second Guy’s praise of the burrata cheese dish. The cheese was buttery and smooth with unique accompaniments. As for the decor, it’s not particularly appealing to me either. They’re going for super modern, but ended up with posh Floridian hotel lobby. You’ll get over it (if that’s necessary) with your first bite. Or your first sip. Though the cocktail selection didn’t jump off the page to either of us, the wine list is top notch.


Moto, Fulton Market

Thursday, December 3rd, 2009

she said:

I first heard about Moto and Chef Homaro Cantu at the Museum of Science and Industry, where there was an exhibit called something like, “The Future is Now.”  The exhibit included video of Cantu making sushi with an inkjet printer and pulling other crazy sciencey stunts that I’m just not smart enough to recall.   I’ll admit, nitroglycerin infused fig bubble* doesn’t exactly make my tummy rumble, but I was totally fascinated.

I recently had a chance to check out Cantu’s edible experiments first hand when we went to Moto for my birthday.  Somewhere in-between the fourth and ninth courses, Guy said, “Ya know, this feels more like a magic show than a dinner.”  I couldn’t have put it better myself.

Imagine how you’d approach food if you developed sudden semi-amnesia.  The first course (after the edible menu), for example, looks exactly like a mini-breakfast, complete with scrambled eggs, an English muffin and hash browns.  So you think, hey wait a minute!  I remember breakfast.  You don’t.  The eggs are some kind of orange meringue thing, the muffin is garlic foam with a swab of cornmeal on top to resemble butter and the potatoes are, I think, scallops.

A sugar cube might be dehydrated truffle. Paper might be garlic bread. Cigar ash might be sesame.  Don’t trust your eyes.  Is it postmodern?  Metacuisine?  Not really sure, but it’s a total adventure.  Oh, and it tastes good.

Since Moto, Guy and I play a fun game where I pick an object – any object (a calculator, a necklace,  a cat) and present it to him , announcing the name of a popular food or dish.  For example, I might pick up a piece of dirty glass from the sidewalk, turn to him, and say, with gusto, “Brownie!”  It’s a hoot.

*Nitroglycerin infused fig bubble is not an actual dish.  You shouldn’t try to make it.  Figs are gross.

he said:

Not only do we both love going on adventures to new restaurants, but we’ve been talking about Moto for almost as long as we’ve been talking to each other. So it seemed like the perfect gift.

And I think it was. Actually, I know it was.

Eating at Moto was an experience that we will remember for the rest of our lives. It was our first birthday together, but more than that, it was a singular experience, unlike anything I’ve written about before.
 
Molecular Gastronomy

Moto is part of the food movement called molecular gastronomy, which according to wikipedia “is a scientific discipline that studies the physical and chemical processes that occur while cooking.” But that makes it seem like a scientific meal. As Gal said, I think it’s more correct to say that it was like a magic show.

Here’s video of Cantu talking about how he makes his magic. Not one thing that he makes in this video was on the menu the night we went, which makes me want to go back all the more.
 
A Unique Experience In Every Way

 I’d recommend this restaurant a hundred times over. The staff was extremely attentive and helpful, without hovering or being overly involved. They knew so much about the food, as though they prepared it.

I’m sure if you’ve read this far, you’ve gotten an idea that it’s a pricy meal. If this was Yelp, we’d have $$$$ next to the name. But I’d say it is definitely something worth doing on the most special of occasions, like celebrating the birthday of the woman you love.  Just be prepared to fork over some loot… and then perhaps eat the fork.

Overall, it was the best dining experience I’ve ever had, thanks in no small part to my dining companion.