Pt. 2

Sorry for keeping you hanging on Part 2, fair readers…..Mags Bennett, XV, BW, and yours truly had planned for a while to hit up Ruxbin one night. So, on an average, cold as fuck, January Saturday night we all conspired to meet for dinner. Ruxbin, the recent recipient of its first Michelin star, is coming off a pretty big plug by both GQ and Bon Appetit who named it one of the United States, "Best New Restaurants of 2011". In spite of its popularity and accolades, Ruxbin takes no reservations and has a tiny, jewelbox of a dining room. Anyone who knows anything about eating out in Chicago, or who has ever been to Longman and Eagle on a weekend evening, knows this can mean waits up to three hours for a table. Nevertheless, we ventured over to West Town to see what all the hype was.

XV and I arrived on the scene around 5:30, knowing full well we were in for a wait. Needing to go pick up wine down the street at Lush (Rux is BYO), I mentioned it might be a good idea to put our name in for a table first as we drove by. Being fashionably early has its privileges, as we were the last people to get our names in before they were fully committed for the rest of the night (at 5:30!). The hostess told me they would call us when our table was ready, in about an hour and a half. Perfect we thought, as we had already planned on meeting Mags and BV around the corner at Leopold for a beer and a starter.

After picking up a couple awesome bottles of wine at Lush (probably the best wine purveyor in the city; all exotic and hard to find vintages) we walked into Leopold, grabbed a seat at one of the loungey tables near the back of the bar, and relaxed. A couple Belgian beers for me and a glass of cinnamon infused Leopold Whisky (no relation to the restaurant) for XV later, Mags and BW showed up. Mags being six months pregnant, and still in amazing shape, stayed away from the booze while BW and I kept downing Belgians. Before you knew it our table was ready back at Ruxbin. The time was exactly 6:38, well ahead of the hour and a half quoted. We were off to a pretty good start.

By the time we got back to Ruxbin it was exactly 7 on the head, and we were all starving hungry. The room at Ruxbin is tiny, but really well done, with a French bistro meets American contemporary vibe. It was warm and inviting, yet still intimate and exotic. Seated at a four top near the front window, we had a birds eye view of our 20 or so fellow diners, all whom seemed to be rolling their eyes in ecstasy over the food they were consuming. Between its 5 star Yelp reviews (in well over a hundred reviews no less), its Michelin star, and its endorsement by what seems to be every single national restaurant reviewer in the United States, I was seriously excited about the food to come.

The menu is small and somewhat limited, but there were a few things that caught our respective eyes. Mags and XV ordered the Apple and Plum salads, BW and I ordered the deconstructed Endive Caesar, and we all decided to share an order of calamari. As the waiter was taking our order we were debating on ordering the garlic fries, and both he and the table next to us interjected and convinced us that they were worth the splurge. The table of well heeled western suburanites out for a night in the big city sitting next to us remarked that the fries were the best thing that they ate that night, and the waiter only bolstered this claim by mentioning that he has an order after every shift. A strong endorsement for an item that I’ve routinely ordered at Giants games when I lived in California. More importantly, a strong endorsement for an dish which never really wowed me at all.

The starters arrived, and from the first bite we were all underwhelmed. The salads, while good, were nothing to write home about. For the most part they were exactly what they said they were on the menu; no more, no less. The Endive Caesar, tasted like a lot like every other Caesar I’ve ever had, and the Apple and Plum salads were so simple that there wasn’t even enough flavor or ingenuity to review here; a simple Apple and Plum salad with a light vinaigrette and some bitter winter greens. After ho huming it through the salads, the starters arrived. The calamari was served with chicken and pork forcemeat, potato confit, Korean chili, pickled fennel, and peanuts. It sounded interesting on the menu, but when it arrived it was far from interesting. A small plate of delicate calamari, browned from the chili and forcemeat, it ended up looking more like unappetizing mush, and tasted like someone had doused it in blackening spices and served it. Color me unimpressed. Next up was the fries, and guess what? They tasted just like the forgettable fries that I had ordered so many times at Giants games…Blah. We all remarked to each other in amazement how these little fuckers drew anyone’s attention, much less their rants and raves.

On to the entrees….I had done a lot of reading on what people were ordering and talking about beforehand so I felt like I was in the catbird’s seat to have a dynamite finale to the meal. Despite it not being something I’d normally order, and all my Greek heritage aside, the lamb was the single most popular dish amongst reviewers. People literally wrote life and palate changing reviews about this dish, so how the fuck could I avoid it? At the very least, I thought, if I missed on a different entrée I’d always wonder if the lamb was as good as advertised, and since I had no idea when I’d be back again, I took the plunge. The orders for the table were as follows: Mags---Amish Chicken, Roasted Breast, Confit Leg, Red Pearl Onions, Brussels Sprouts, and Pain Perdu with Apple, Gouda, and Walnuts BW---Pork Loin, Sweet Potato Gnocchi, Brown Butter Emulsion, Kale, Kalamata Olives, Cranberry, Sage XV---Hanger Steak, Wrinkled Long Beans, Candied Bacon, Chimichurri, Creme Fraiche, Heirloom Potatoes Me---Lamb, polenta, blah, blah, blah, blah. (I bet you can see where this is going)

The entrees arrived and we all tore into them with excited anticipation, hoping that these would finally instill the fanaticism and intensity that had led so many to rant and rave about Ruxbin. After a mere two bites, all I could think of was Rachel Dratch as Debbie Downer on SNL….womp, womp. BW ate his Pork Loin happily, but it drew no rants. Mags loved her chicken, but admitted that it was just chicken; a great piece of chicken and perfectly done, but chicken nonetheless. XV raved about her hanger steak, but like Mags, she admitted that it was very good but far from rave worthy. My lamb, well, not much to say other than http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IJ_R-G_i4Xk . It was cooked perfectly, seasoned nicely, and the polenta was a very nice compliment. However, given the reviews and the insane rumblings about how amazing the dish was, it just didn’t live up to the hype. In fact, it didn’t come anywhere near living up to the hype. As my old Furby used to say....boooooriiiiiinnnng.

As a complete aside, about 2/3 of the reviews of Ruxbin noted that diners had to go the bathroom at least once during their visit, as it was like going into a space pod and was an experience unto itself. Yeah well, all four of us went to the bathroom, and guess what? Nobody had a life changing experience in the bathroom. Bottom line, it was a bathroom with a revolving darkroom door as an entrance, big fucking deal.

In summation, Ruxbin would get a two and a half to three star review (out of four) from me. On its own, without the reviews, I would have been impressed. But the minute you raise expectations to the level that people had, I expected more. Much, much, much more. At the end of the day you can’t serve me fuckin garlic fries and expect me to have a food boner big enough to give you a four star review. I’ve eaten all over the world, and moreover I’m a realist; when you give a four star review, a Michelin star, and you’re one of the best new restaurants in the nation you better do better than garlic fries and hanger steak. Don’t let the review dissuade you from going, but for those of you who have eaten at some of the city’s more notable restaurants, temper your expectations. 

Weekend of Gastronomical Hype Pt. 1

XV and I had been looking forward to this weekend for a while. The plan, in a nutshell, was to go to the opening of Tavernita, faux-celeb chef Ryan Poli’s new joint, and follow that up with a trip to Ruxbin with Mags Bennett and her husband the next night. We had never been to Ruxbin, but the accolades (Michelin, Yelp, Esquire, etc.) and word of mouth hype that has been going around has had it at the top of our list for quite some time. Couple that with the hype of a downtown restaurant opening and we had our culinary game faces on.

Friday night’s reservation at Tavernita was for a respectable 8:45. I always feel like eating downtown should be more New York than Chicago, i.e. reservations should seldom happen before 8:30. There’s just something romantically inspiring about being out in the cold of the city having drinks and dinner later at night on a weekend. Anyways, we arrived on time and found street parking on LaSalle Street not more than 150 feet from the door. A nice score considering we avoided the $12 for the valet and didn’t have to walk too far in the freezing cold. Tavernita is located on the corner of LaSalle and Erie in the old Martini Park space. Before you go getting bitter beer face thinking about all your old memories at MP, let me assure you that Tavernita is nothing like its predecessor; and that goes for the atmosphere, ambiance, food, and crowd.

Before I go any further in this review, I have to inform my gentle readers of my particular bias towards Tavernita and its chef. Chef Ryan Poli is a douchemonster of the first order, and he has been known to be associated with some of the city’s most reprehensible socialistas. Basically, his crew are a bunch of know nothing, meatheady douchebags and sorta slutty chicks who love to go around and play Sex and the City on Hubbard Street. Putting it plainly, these people, by and large, are a bunch of cubicle jockeying middle managers with low levels of education and even lower levels of pedigree. I’ve had a few run ins with the male members of his group, which have almost always resulted in insults being thrown  (punches at Paris Club over the summer), and have also had a few run ins with the female members of his group, as well. None of these encounters particularly endeared me to their group in any way, shape, or form. In fact, the result was quite the opposite as I genuinely developed a deep seeded disgust of the entire group of dingleberry dickfaces, both male and female.

Back to the review…….The renovated space is interesting, at best, unmanageably open and neglectful at worst. Dim Southwestern lighting meets even more dimly lit Catalonian motifs which sets the tone for a Spanishesque tavern and wine bar desperately trying to be cool and edgy. Imagine Mercadito, only the Spanish wine bar version with a lot of strange wasted table spaces that sit uncomfortably vacant. A bar and lounge area towards the front of the restaurant (LaSalle Street side) had yet to open, and its tall glass doors which open to the street and sidewalk look like they will make for a lively and fun midday or early evening drinking spot come summer. Unfortunately, it’s the dead of winter not the peak of summer. Needless to say, we were seated around 9:15 and offered a round of drinks for our wait, which was a nice touch considering I was drinking a $25 glass of McAllan 18.

By the time we sat down we were ready to order. We started simple with an order of Hamachi crudo, and Pork Belly Bocadillos. The hamachi came out simply prepared with a little picked jalapeno, avocado and lime and was absolutely delicious. The buttery hamachi paired perfectly with the spice of the jalapeno and the cool lime and avo. Almost as soon as we had finished, the bocadillos came out. Two small brioche buns topped with deliciously cooked pieces of pork belly, apple jam, arugula, and pickled onions made for an amazing little snack. Both the hamachi and the bocadillos were small in size, but they made up for their seemingly tiny plating with giant flavors and deeply rich undertones. All in all, the start of the meal was a pleasant surprise.

After finishing our small plates we ordered a carafe of Catalonia red, and placed the order for our main courses; Greg’s Meatballs, Artichoke Salad, Brussel Sprouts, and Scallops. Tavernita has an interesting beverage program, reminiscent of its Mercadito heritage, but with a European twist. Much like Mercadito, Tavernita’s cocktail list focuses heavily on mescal, tequila, and vodka without paying too much attention to the more mixable spirits that have come into popularity recently, like whisky/bourbon and gin. Since I’m not a vodka or tequila drinker and XV was nursing the backend of a light flu, we opted for wine with dinner. Tavernita has barreled wine, which means basically that when you order a bottle, the wine comes poured from a tap into a reusable bottle. It seems completely bourgouis in principle, but the wine we ordered was both delicious and affordable and made us forget about the giant keg below the restaurant that pumped our bottle out of a tap.

First to come out of the kitchen was the Artichoke Salad, and of all the dishes that we ordered I was probably most excited about this one. Sadly, it fell flat on its face. You could barely get any hint of artichoke and the salad was dominated by sea salt and heavy flavors from the blue cheese. After a few bites my teeth hurt and my lips were parched, a feeling somewhat akin to gnawing on a piece of blue cheese beef jerky. Thankfully though, the memory of the salad was quickly erased by the delicious plate of meatballs that followed. Greg’s Meatballs, named ostensibly, after one of Poli’s chefs, are made with a combination of wagyu beef and pork, and come with a creamy romesco sauce topped with panko cracklins. Considering meatballs hardly fit on a Spanish inspired menu, these stood as a shining star in spite of their somewhat peculiar menu inclusion. The meatballs were perfectly fork tender, super rich, and contained just a hint of spice to give them enough bite to offset their richness. Simply put, they were absolutely fantastic.  

Next up were the Scallops which were a complete dud. The scallops themselves were delicious; however the accompaniments were downright disgusting and made us wonder how a team of accomplished (embarrassing national T.V. loss to a housewife on Rocco’s Dinner Party notwithstanding) chefs could pick such an unusual smattering of flavors to pair with a scallop. Served with celery, grapes, almonds, olive oil croutons, and ajo blanco the dish ended up tasting like a terrible version of a Spanish scallop salad. The buttery hot scallops were run completely afoul by the inclusion of grapes, olive oil, celery and almonds, all items which can be found in a Waldorf Salad. XV aptly described this dish in one simple word, sickitating.

The Brussel Sprouts were supposed to be up next, but it was 10:45 and they were nowhere in sight. The waiter assured me he put them in when we ordered them, but lets face it, there is no fuckin way Brussel Sprouts take 45 minutes to cook. Full from the other dishes and not wanting to eat a side dish all by itself, we cancelled the order before it got to the table and opted to get a bill instead. Our flamingly gay, yet attentive, waiter was seen off in the distance explaining the situation to Poli, who after a glance over at our table bowed out of the situation altogether, opting to take the Sprouts off the bill rather than come over and gladhand us about the issue as many Chef’s do on opening night. Could it be because he recognized us and knew that we despise his crew of friends? Or perhaps it was because he didn’t care? Either way it didn’t matter, as in general the meal was pretty good and I doubt I would have bothered to mention any of the lows of the dining experience should he have come to the table.

The bill came out to about $85 without tip and drinks (they picked up our bottle of wine because of the wait) which XV and I both agreed was pretty reasonable a price for a weekend dinner out downtown. Overall, there were a few misses on the night, but the hits far outshined the misses. Considering we both went in wanting to hate everything about the place, the fact that we came out giving it mostly positive reviews should speak volumes as to the quality of some of the dishes we ate. While I don’t think Tavernita is on par with similar restaurants like Avec and Publican, I do think it has a lot going for it and once summer comes around and the windows and doors can be opened it will definitely be a place to visit again. Overall I give Tavernita a healthy 2 ½ stars out of 4. 

Back in the Saddle.....

So after being home for an extended Thanksgiving holiday, XV returned to the 312 late Sunday night and we  decided to celebrate her homecoming with a trip to the hot new spot, Anthem,  for a casual Sunday night out.

Anthem is the newest brainchild of the folks behind our favorite bar of the moment, Bangers & Lace. It sits almost directly across the street from its sister bar in Bucktown on Divison, and in spite of their lineage of ownership, the two places couldn't be any more different in concept. Bangers is more of a hipster beer and whisky bar with a limited menu of delicious bar bites. The room at Bangers evokes feelings of being somewhere between London in the 60's (could be 1860's even) and Brooklyn at the turn of the 20th century. Anthem on the other hand, has a full menu, and is themed after a 1970's era basement gone 21st century sports bar. On the one hand you get the 70's feel in the giant American flag hanging from the ceiling and the old school hockey arcade game, and then on the other, you get the 21st century awesomeness of HD movie screens full of whatever sports games are on. 

Anthem's menu is pretty straight forward and can be summed up in two words; fucking amazing. As this blog continues and the reviews grow, you'll all come to realize I don't throw terms like that around lightly. There are plenty of items that have universal appeal no matter the gender or taste of the diner. For the ladies and lighter eaters, there are some healthy options like a salad bar (which isn't a bar at all, thank god, just the ability to custom create a salad from a bunch of awesome ingredients), some chicken and hummus type options, and even a veggie wrap in gluten free bread which sounded amazing. Where it gets interesting is in the more manly, overly delicious, super fatass type menu options. To begin, at least two items, the Juicy Lucy burger and the Philly Cheesesteak, both offer some derivation of sickening yet amazing cheese; melted Velveeta on the Juicy Lucy, and Cheez Whiz on the steak. Awesome.

Beer and cocktails are straightforward, if not boring, considering the pedigree of the owners, but they are good enough to stand pat with just about any other sports bar type restaurant. Limited wine options, some half assed attempts at specialty house cocktail concoctions, and a decent beer menu round out the drink list. Unfortunately  those who anticipate Bangers type drinks in a sports bar setting will end up being disappointed. Just drink a Brooklyn from the tap and shut the fuck up; this place is plenty good.

It was pretty empty when we arrived and we sat right down. The Sunday night football game was just about to start, yet there couldn't have been more than ten other people in the joint. Considering the game was the Lions v. Saints, a pretty good game featuring a team (Detroit) which has a large contingent of expatriates living here in the 312 (XV included), it was a surprisingly sparse Sunday night turnout. This could have been due to the fact that Anthem is barely two weeks old, or even the fact that it was the first bitingly cold night of the 2011-2012 winter, but we didn't give a fuck, we were happy to enjoy our dinner without having to wait or sit on top of each other on account of the place being packed to the gills.

Service began well, albeit strangely, as we were greeted by our server Julia who was an interesting combination of DP pollack with an inner city hipness. Her heavy accent and semi-retarded rumblings didn't preclude her from delivering competent and accurate service. We ended up ordering two pork belly BLT sliders (me), 12 mixed drumette wings to split, and a custom salad with roasted turkey from the salad bar (XV). The sliders were pretty solid, but they weren't anything to write home about. A big, delicious hunk of pork belly was almost completely overwhelmed by an overly buttery brioche bun and some seriously intense garlic aioli. Had the belly been left to be the star of the show, as it rightfully should have been, these could have been legendary, but alas, they weren't. XV's salad was pretty solid as well, packing some interesting elements which made it a perfect fit for her tastes. Beyond the typical salad accouterments, XV loaded up with some exotic items like pickled bean sprouts and roast turkey (instead of the more pedestrian chicken); top it off with some house made fat-free honey mustard dressing and she was happy as clam. 

The real star of the show, however, were the drumettes. I don't consider myself a wing aficionado, but I have eaten a shitload of wings in my lifetime. Some amazing (Buffalo Joe's in Evanston circa 1995), some really good (Local Option in Lincoln Park), some decent (Hooters--spare me the sideways looks), and some awful (every place that serves frozen wings doused in bottled shitty Louisiana hot sauce). These little fuckers of deliciousness were absolutely out-worldly. We ordered two variations which happened to be the only options offered. Six were house made Cholula Buffalo and the other six were Spicy Asian BBQ style. While the Cholula were really good in their own right, the Asian absolutely stole the show. Sweet, spicy, tangy, perfectly fried drumsticks of deliciousness. I've had similar wings at Crisp and Great Seas, and let me tell you something, these were miles better. The quality of the chicken, combined with the house made sauce made these little heavenly bastards absolutely legendary. Couple that with a ginger aioli of mystery amazingness, and  the two of us were fighting over every bite. XV wouldn't usually touch anything fried with a ten foot pole, but on this night I saw her summon some fried food love that I never thought I'd see....to the tune of 6 wings eaten all by herself. 

Our experience at Anthem was a welcome bit of relief. Finally a place with a low douche quotient, amazingly over the top bar food, plenty of room and sight lines to massive televisions, all coupled with a cool and unassuming vibe. Bottom line, not only will we be back to Anthem, but we plan on making Anthem our go to place for bar food, game watching, casual beers, or any other activity that merits the potential consumption of one of those drumettes.

Until next time 312......

So I said I wasn't going to talk money.....

This week the Wall Street Journal leaked news that Facebook is looking to possibly go public in 2012....WHOA. In 2004,the  Google IPO was the hottest financial news item since the dot com bonanza of the late 90's. At the time, Google was just starting to be the industry giant it is now, but it was undoubtedly a powerful force in the Internet world. In any case, Google shares were going for an initial public offering of $85, which is a huge number for an IPO, even for a great company. Pundits were split almost 50/50 on whether or not to take the plunge on such a huge price, with many thinking Google could be a bubble much like the other dot com's that preceded them. Steve Wozniak, the co-founder of Apple actually publicly stated that he was going to "pass" on the IPO. Well....by 2007 all the people that strapped their poopy pants on and passed watched all the people who bought in get rich. By 2007 Google stock had soared to $600 a share....My whole family, including myself, wore our collective adult diapers and were part of the group that passed on the opportunity......

In life you seldom get two bites at the proverbial apple, but with the Facebook IPO coming, we will all get our second bite. Cursory research indicates that Facebook, a company with a spurious revenue stream, which offers a free service no less, has a total corporate value of around...........wait for it...........ONE HUNDRED BILLION DOLLARS. That number is not a typo, and frankly, I've read about ten articles that think it might be low. (I tend to agree) Compare that to the current value of Google ($130 billion) and Apple ($380 billion) which took years, and in the case of Apple decades, after the inception on the company and the initial public offering to rise to, and you can understand how staggering that number is.

There are 6 billion people living on Earth right now, and of those 6 billion, 800 million are members of Facebook. An estimated 1.4 billion people have regular access to the Internet, which represents only about 20% of the world.....So literally 50% of the people across the entire globe that get online and have the capability of using Facebook....do. That's a pretty fucking amazing number, especially considering that Facebook get's an incredible 700,000 new members EACH DAY.

Okay, so given the aforesaid I will say this with furiously composed conviction. Leverage your entire life to get cash to buy Facebook IPO and sit back and watch the money fall in on your head. Its going to be the living embodiment of owning a money tree or a printing press. I believe in Facebook so much that I would literally bet my life on the average investor making 20% on their investment in the first fiscal quarter that Facebook trades in. About the only company on the planet that even compares to Facebook in terms of addictive, captivating, life changing, brand loyalty from its consumer audience is Apple, whom I believe is trading low right now at about $375 a share......You have a chance to be on the ground floor of something special here people; something that could easily pay for Billy and Sally's college tuition...potentially several times over. Learn from my own mistakes on the Google IPO and get in...Don't be a pussy and be scared off by the initial price----probably huge-----but its going to go through the roof I guarantee it. Lesson/rant over.

A little background before we get started.......

I think I'm a pretty ordinary and level headed guy. I also think that I have an extraordinary understanding of some things.....those things being......The Chicago food scene, college football, travel, art, fashion, and global finance and banking. With all that being considered, this blog will concentrate (for the most part) on all things Chicago and my interactions therein; with a here and there splattering of pithy comments about random events, happenings, musings, thoughts, etc. I have a trusty sidekick for most of my adventures, XV, who is both my girlfriend and best friend. She's an amazing combination of brains, beauty, and hilarity, and I'm a lucky guy to be able to experience the things that I do with her on my side.

A little background on me.....I grew up on the North Shore (check the blog name) and I'm a graduate of a big southern university. I spent thirteen years living away from Chicago, and since I moved back in 2009, I have immersed myself in the city. In doing so, I found that my real passion was being involved in the social scene....notably the dining scene....Sooooo lets get this party started already..........

Opening Statements and Reflections on Life

Ok, here goes nothing. Inspired by my brilliant girlfriend and her writing skills, I thought I may as well toss my hat into the blogosphere. Moreover, I've grown really tired of reading the garbage most of the people write about my city.....Chicago. The never-ending stream of writers, bloggers, dipshits, and dickheads with bad taste, poor grammar, awful palettes, shit style, and obnoxious opinions has to be put in check....Who better than me to take on this monumental task?