Savoring the Last of Summer

It's hard to believe how quickly the summer has gone by...yet here we are. Football is starting, the sun is setting earlier and families are getting back into the back-to-school groove.

My two passions. What a lovely pair they make.

While I'm normally one of the first to bring out the scarfs and boots and fire up the crock pot, I'm not ready to let go of summer just yet. Not this year. Didn't it just start? Wasn't it just July 4th? What happened? Where has the year gone?

The passage of time is constant, and sometimes a season change has a way of reminding you of that.

But more than that, I guess I'm not ready to let go of rose and oysters on the patio. Or 24/7 flip flops. Or easy summer salads. Or long meandering pointless walks. But especially...oysters and rose.

I am thankful I was able to indulge in some late season patio time at Fig and Olive this week. Complete with grenache rose, oysters, jamon, pinxtos and a warm September setting sun, it warped me to last September in Spain.

And just like that. It's a year later. Another season is upon us.      

Best Dishes of The 2012 Hiatus

Work, travel, dinner, work, deadlines, chores, sleep, life...seasons pass and suddenly it's fall. And so is the highly uninteresting story of the Drunken Goat Hiatus of 2012.

I wish I could say the hiatus was spent in the Basque region of Spain learning new cooking techniques and taking weekend trips to San Sebastian and southern France. Sadly, it was not. It was, however, filled with a lot of delicious meals, many enjoyed with wonderful friends and family. Here are a few of the standout dishes I enjoyed most during the blogging hiatus.

Succulent Sicilian pork shoulder at Next

• Spalla di Maiale Brasato at Next: If you asked anyone who went to Next for the Sicily menu, there was one dish that was unanimously agreed to be the best: the pork shoulder. Sous-vide and braised for six hours, the fork-tender pork melted in your mouth with every bite. I'd like to find a way to recreate this dish one day.  
• Taglionini Nero with Crab and Sea Urchin at Balena: This dish is the dish that made me fall in love with sea urchin. After a not so great sea urchin experience at Nellcote (it was paired with burrata, and the texture didn't work for me), this pasta dish finally made me understand what the sea urchin buzz was all about. 
• Burger at Au Cheval: I don't eat burgers very often, so when I do, my expectations are high. Needless to say, this burger met - and exceeded - my expectations. Top it with a runny egg and Au Cheval's famous thick cut bacon to really put it over the top (but honestly it doesn't need a lot of bells and whistles). 
• Butter Cake at Mastro's: This dessert is so good it has a Facebook page for the people who love it. Served warm with a side of whipped cream, I almost had to pay the waitress to take Mastro's signature dessert away from me. 
• Fried Chicken and Mashed Potatoes at The Lady and Sons. Located in Savannah, Georgia, The Lady and Sons is the cathedral of Paula Deen and all things southern comfort food. So much butter; so much goodness, ya'll. While I had to double up on classes at Flywheel Chicago to work this meal off, it was worth every calorie. 
• Secret Hamachi at Arami: Comprised of yellow tail, mushroom and truffle oil, we had to wait a while for this simple yet incredibly flavorful sashimi dish. It was well worth the wait. Truffle can be overpowering if not weilded correctly, especially with a light and mild fish like yellow tail. The restraint demonstrated in this dish made all the difference. 



Crispy, juicy and positively sinful  

• Tea Smoked Duck Breast at Belly Q: Served with sweet buns and chinese broccoli, this dish was so good my dining companions and I ordered a second helping. 

After meals spent with good company and, let's face it, usually good wine, these were the dishes that had me thinking about them the next morning. 

What meals, dishes and restaurants have caught your attention lately? Leave a comment and let me know. 

Ultimate Italian Minimalism: Cacio e Pepe

One of the endlessly fascinating things about Italian cuisine is how a few simple ingredients can come together to make an unbelievably rich, flavorful dish. No where is this more apparent than with Cacio e Pepe, which literally translates to "cheese and pepper" in English.

It has a mere four ingredient (pasta, cracked black pepper, pecorino cheese and butter) and is the pinacle of Italian minimalism. The starchy pasta water brings the butter and cheese together into a velvety sauce, and the fresh-cracked pepper offers a sharp dimension of heat.

Sadly, I don't see Cacio e Pepe on too many Italian menus in Chicago. I'm not sure why this is?

I recently had dinner at Davanti Enoteca on Taylor Street and was pleasantly surprised to see this dish on the menu. Between myself and my two dining companions (my Dad and brother), we ordered a second order of Cacio e Pepe before the first one was even finished. It was that good.

A few years ago, Anthony Bourdain dedicated an entire episode of No Reservation to the Roman way of life. The first stop on his Frederico Fellini/La Dolce Vita-inspired visit to Rome? A local neighborhood place specializing in Cacio e Pepe (begins at around the 2:30 mark).

When I finally conquer one of my cooking resolutions of 2012 - making fresh pasta - Cacio e Pepe will be the first pasta dish I plan to tackle.

What other dishes do you think best embody ultimate Italian minimalism? Leave me a comment and let me know.

Ciao e buon appetito da il Drunken Goat!

My Childhood Menu

Earlier this month I had the unique opportunity to eat at Next for its childhood menu (more on that in my Magic of Childhood post). Ever since, I've been thinking about the favorite meals and treats of my own childhood. If I were shaping the Childhood menu, what would be on it?

Fish and Chips at Next Childhood. Far more
glamorous than the fish sticks of my childhood,
but both equally delicious.

While some of these dishes, like the macaroni and cheese, were captured beautifully at Next, everyone has their own meals that defined their childhood.

In retrospect, my childhood menu would look a little something like this:

• Macaroni and cheese out of the blue box (also known as Kraft Dinner). To this day, this is still a staple in my pantry.
• Grilled cheese and Campbell's tomato soup. Especially great with generously buttered bread and extra cheese.
• Lipton's Noodle Soup and Ritz crackers, each with a smear of cream cheese. My mom would make this for me when I was sick, and I still keep a box of noodle soup around for when I'm feeling under the weather.  
• Fish sticks with ketchup and mayonnaise dipping sauce. Loved it as a kid, but probably wouldn't be caught dead eating it today. 
• Yodels (frosted, cream-filled cakes). Ditto.  
• Swedish fish. Still one of my preferred movie theater treats.
• Pillsbury Cinnamon Rolls. Haven't had these in years, but I have no doubt they'd still be great on a Sunday morning. 

If you were writing the childhood menu, what would be on it? 

The Magic of Childhood

Wagyu jerky, truffled oreo, apple-brandy leather
nutella snack back and homemade funyun.

Last Wednesday night I visited Next as it entered its final month of service for Childhood. In the coming weeks, Next will shed its menu and transform into another persona, the famed Ferran Adria restaurant ElBulli.

But last week, it was still about being a kid. The menu was inspired by Chef Grant Achatz and Dave Beran's childhoods in the Midwest in the 1980's, but it had universal elements that kids of all ages and generations would appreciate and relate to.

What I remember most about the meal was the simple details. The fact that Star Wars and Doogie Houser, MD theme songs played as we ate. The sweet note from Mom and folded paper towel in the lunch box. Having to patiently wait for my marshmallow to toast on the fire. The excitement of the unknown - be it opening a present or exploring a winterly forest (complete with the smell of pine and the crunch of leaves.)

It was a whimsical dinner unlike any other I've ever experienced. It made me ache for being a kid again, and a part of me was sad to return to the world where the email is relentless and time seems to pass faster with every new year.

 A most delicious forest. 

Achatz and Beran put it best:

Wonder. Excitement. The feeling of the world unfolding before you in unexpected ways. Discovery. And even fear of the unknown and the future. 


There is a nostalgia we all carry for childhood innocence and naivete. As we grow older, too often we lose the sense that our lives are magical. 


Eating at Next was a reminder about the importance of keeping life magical.

Winter Comforts at the Slurping Turtle

As I've noted in a recent blog post ("Falling Back"), one of the best things about winter is taking comfort in hearty and soothing food. Nowhere is this more apparent than at the Slurping Turtle, a new Japanese comfort food restaurant in River North specializing in dumplings, sashimi, bincho grill and noodle soups.

Take comfort in this bowl during
Chicago's deep freeze. 

Given its proximity to Hubbard Street "to be seen" type places like EPIC (and my natural aversion to these places), I was skeptical at first. However, this all changed upon walking into the warm, inviting and casual restaurant.

The large communal table anchored the dining room and despite the 20 foot-plus lofted space, it wasn't overly noisy. The staff was laid back but attentive, and the wine and sake list was affordable and varied.  

I order shumai at most Japanese restaurants (they are a favorite), and the steamed pork and shrimp shumai at The Slurping Turtle were among the best I've had in the city, especially with a dash of spicy dipping sauce.

The bincho grill plates were small, leaving ample room to sample several types of meat and fish over the course of the meal. We had seared tuna and scallops, both of which were cooked perfectly and enhanced further with the lingering flavor of the charcoal and wood bincho grill. (Interested in learning more about the bincho grill? Check out this great video from Grub Street in which The Slurping Turtle's Chef Takashi Yagihashi explains this traditional japanese cooking method.)

The noodles, although difficult to share, are a must. We tried the Slurping Noodle with tiger shrimp, napa cabbage, fish cake and cilantro. Sharing soup is always a messy endeavor but certainly well worth the effort in this case.

I'm looking forward to going back to the Slurping Turtle in the dead of winter when I can settle in with a fragrant saki flight and a steaming bowl of noodles. While many Chicagoans tout the greatness of deep dish pizza during the winter, I'd argue that the type of meal served at The Slurping Turtle is just satisfying and warming (if not more so). With many vegetarian, seafood and grilled options, it's also lighter comfort food for the post-holiday winter months. Unfortunately, this does not include the Slurping Turtle's duck fat fried chicken dish, which I've heard is as decadent and addicting as it sounds.

In Appreciation: Blackbird

On a frigid January night several years ago, I had one of my first truly amazing dining experiences in Chicago. I was relatively new to the city and was more focused on getting to know my new home through its various bars, more so than its acclaimed restaurants. I guess we all go through those phases.

As it so happened on this night, I received an unexpected dinner invitation from an old friend who was in town for a few days. He recommended we meet at Blackbird. At the time, I remember thinking how the West Loop seemed light years away from my comfortable and familiar north side confines.

Blackbird's gorgeous and understated dining room.

As is the case with friends who you haven't seen in ages, we had a lot to catch up. Lives, loves, careers, families. The high-points, the low points. We sat at the bar in Blackbird's elegant white dining room and caught up for hours.

I remember drinking champagne, eating wild boar, sipping on a west coast seafood chowder and winding the meal down with a luxurious cheese course. I remember the invigorating feeling you get when you pick right back up with an old friend after many years out of touch. I remember the attentive, knowledgeable, unpretentious and wonderful staff.

Most importantly, I remember realizing how much of Chicago there was to see and taste and how much I had been missing. It was a perfect evening, and the first of many special meals I've been fortunate enough to experience. It was also the official start of my love affair with eating out in Chicago, and I'm happy to report that I've returned to Blackbird many times since this first visit.

Earlier this week, Blackbird received a coveted four star review from the Chicago Tribune's Phil Vettel.  Congratulations to Chef Posey and the entire team on this much deserved accolade. Blackbird is truly one of Chicago's treasures that is consistently a beautiful, flavorful and exciting dining experience.

2012 Cooking Resolutions

When it comes to cooking, 2012 is looking to be an ambitious year for the Drunken Goat. Like anything in life, it's easy to get into a routine. There are standby recipes and dishes I come back to time and again. Roast chicken, salmon & spinach, a quick and easy pasta dish are all in frequent rotation (as is the midweek call to Butterfly for sushi and seaweed salad).

This time of year, people like to set ambitious resolutions to quit smoking, lose weight or stop hoarding emails. Ok, maybe that last one is just mine (I can't help it if I'm a digital hoarder).

So what do I want 2012 to hold in terms of food? Of course, there will be eating out (that's a given). But when it comes to cooking, there are a few aspirations I have for the year ahead.  

Image courtesy of Real Epicurean. 

Homemade Pasta: Daunting, messy and time-consuming? Sure thing. Delicious and often worth the work? Absolutely. In a perfect world, I'd move to Italy for a few months and learn the craft of pasta making. Until then, I guess a few winter Sundays hunkered down in my West Loop condo will have to do.

Authentic Asian: Doing more experimenting with Asian flavors and cooking techniques has long been a goal of mine, but truthfully, I've always been a bit intimidated. However, this recipe for shrimp and cilantro shumai from Mark Bittman changed my view and made me think, "Maybe, just maybe, I can make this work."

Soufflé: What's all the fuss about anyway? Something about collapsing egg whites?  Let's give it a shot.

Baking Fundamentals: I've had some impressive baking failures in recent years. In the pre-2004 era, my Dad (a longtime Yankees fan) always remarked how the Red Sox found "absolutely spectacular" ways to lose games. From salty cookies to muffins as dry as the desert to icing that slides off cupcakes, I've found some absolutely spectacular ways to fail at baking. 2012 will be the year I bond with my Kitchenaid and begin appropriately measuring flour and considering ingredient temperatures (both of which I now understand are fairly critical when it comes to baking).

Check back for periodic updates on how the Drunken Goat is tracking against these goals. One thing is for certain: there will be an epic souffle fail blog post in the future.

And finally, good luck to you on whatever goals, resolutions, hopes or aspirations you may have for the coming year (whether food related or not). Cheers!

2011: A Year in Eating

December is always a time for year end lists. Best albums. Best songs. Best concerts. Best new restaurants. Best desserts. Best new bars. It seems like there's a list for everything.  

This got me reflecting on the best things I ate in 2011. But, how to rank? How to compare an appetizer or one simple ingredient to a full entree or ten course prix fix? So in no particular order, the best things I ate in 2011: 

Fresh Brazilian starfruit
plucked right from the tree. 

• The delice de bourgogne cheese plate at Maude's Liquor Bar. Absolute decadence. It was the dish that spurred me to launch The Drunken Goat Dispatches in May, and I'm still in love. 
• The deluxe focaccia at Avec, with taleggio cheese, ricotta, truffle oil and fresh herbs is salty, savory and more addicting than a Big Mac.  
• An authentic Brazilian fish feast prepared by the lovely people at Salto das Nuvens, a small, waterfall-side restaurant, bar and resort located in the Matto Grosso state. It was like being on an episode of No Reservations.
• Fresh starfruit picked off a tree (also in Matto Grosso) and eaten. Nature's sweet tart.  
• Mom's stuffing at Thanksgiving. So incredibly simple (bread, onions, celery, stock and pork sausage) yet delicious and flavorful. The memory of Thanksgiving leftovers is still lingering.  
• Served with crisp sourdough bread, sea salt, parsley and red onion jam, the bone marrow at Longman & Eagle is savory and rich.  
• While I love the cheese and charcuterie at The Purple Pig, the olive oil poached tuna with lima beans, fresh herbs, red onion and vinaigrette is still the dish that I keep thinking about. 
• Fetucine a la Pasquale at my family's favorite restaurant, Pasquale's Osteria in Norwalk, Conn. Homemade pasta, shrimp, ham, asparagus, tomatoes, fresh basil in a garlic red sauce with a touch of cream. It's ultimate Italian comfort food made by Pasquale, a former Vatican chef (more on that in a future post).   
• The lobster roll at B&G Oyster in the South End of Boston served just the way I like it: heaping mounds of lobster, slightest touch of homemade mayo, herbs, S+P, on a butter toasted roll. 
• I'm still blissed out from The Lair of the Minotaur burger at Kuma's Corner. The brie, pancetta and bourbon poached pear made the burger worth the wait...and the calories.    
• The cheese cart at Tru. An unpasteurized heaven on wheels.   
• The hen at Graham Elliot: a savory and memorable dish that embodied fall with every bite.

What was your favorite dish or dining experience in 2011? 

Graham Elliot's Collection

And then once in awhile you a have a meal that is lovely, unexpected, creative, fun and unforgettable. Last week, I made my way through ten courses of Graham Elliot's Collection, one of the restaurant's three coursing options. Clocking in at approximately three hours, the Collection is certainly a commitment for a Thursday night, but well worth it.  

The menu was largely inspired by fall flavors and sensations. The standout dish for me was the hen, which started with a few sips of smoky tea. It tasted like raking leaves in Vermont. Shortly thereafter they presented the hen, which was tender and delicious and not overpowered by the earthy supporting flavors (kale, pine nuts, matsutake).

Graham Elliot's signature deconstructed caesar, rich lobster risotto, savory pumpkin soup and perfectly seared scallops (read: slightly raw in the middle) were also standouts.

I was so in the moment of enjoying this meal that I honestly didn't take any pictures - and I think that's ok.

Of all the fine dining restaurants in Chicago, Graham Elliot is one of my favorites for a few reasons. It's got a casual vibe, but the service flawless. It's flexible - if you don't want to commit to a long, coursed out menu, you can certainly order a la carte. The best part? The front of the house staff will turn up the music on request.

Note: A special thank you to my wonderful GE dining partner, who continues to go out of his culinary comfort zone and try new things. Thank you. You're the best.

Sins Of Restaurant Service

In a city with so many well-run restaurants, I always find it a bit shocking when I have a meal out that is so epically bad that it leaves me wondering, "What the heck is going on in this establishment?"

I recently scoped out a newer gastropub that opened last fall. An outstanding menu, ample outdoor space and enticing beer and cocktail offerings made it a great option for a mid-week summer night. From service to food quality to pacing, the entire experience was very unfortunate.

While I'm not going to spend this post dissecting what went wrong, the experience did get me thinking about the deadly sins of restaurant service. These are the things that make me crazy when I'm dining out. Granted, this meal didn't have all of the faux pas outlined below, but it was definitely batting .500.

1.  If our water glass is empty, we have a problem. I probably should have seen the writing on the wall when it took 15 minutes for us to even get water the other night.

Overripe, mealy tomatoes make for a caprese disaster.
What a mess. 

2. If it's not fresh, don't serve it. If it's overripe, don't serve it. If the protein seems questionable, don't serve it. If a restaurant doesn't want to deal with these fundamentals, then it should strip down the menu, rebrand itself as a bar and start serving frozen chicken fingers.

3. Don't bring the appetizer at the same time as the entree.  An appetizer is an appetizer for a reason, so pace it accordingly.

4. "Are you ready to order yet?" "Are you ready now?" "Are you done yet?" "Do you want dessert?" The last question is my favorite, especially when we're still working on our entrees. I totally understand and appreciate a restaurant's need to turn tables, I really do. Even if the food is outstanding, though, rushing a diner out ruins the experience.

'"Lay off me, I'm starving!" Don't
comment on how much a
patron orders. 

5. So let's just say it's winter, and the Chicago Bears have lost a particularly devastating playoff game. And, let's just say that three hungry, mildly over-served Bears fans are looking to drown their sorrows in some deep dish on a frigid Sunday night. Making comments such as, "Wow, you guys sure ordered a lot of food for just the three of you..." and "You sure must like to eat" are totally unnecessary. Maybe we want leftovers? Maybe I like to try a lot of different things? Maybe it's none of your business?!  

6. When things aren't going well, managers should acknowledge the issue and do what they can to right the experience. No, a shot of Old Crow will not make me feel better, please just bring me my caprese salad. And, in what universe does a shot of Old Crow go with a caprese salad anyway? (Yes, this actually happened.)

What restaurant service sins make you crazy?

Burger Bliss at Kuma's Corner

The Megadeath burger: bloody and ready
for consumption. 

After five years and three foiled attempts, I finally made it to Kuma's Corner, a heavy metal bar located in Chicago's Avondale neighborhood. It's known for a few things: a cramped kitchen (16x6 to be precise), loud metal music and the best burgers within city limits. 

Kuma's is also notorious for its excessively long waits. Patient patrons can expect to wait more than two hours on a weeknight or weekend to taste one of Kuma's coveted burgers. Arrive hungry and you will surely end up fighting with your dining partner while you're waiting outside on the sidewalk.

I hadn't planned on writing about my visit to Kuma's. It has been covered so many times, and I wasn't sure I'd have much else to add to the discussion. 

However, my Lair of the Minotaur burger (brie, caramelized onions, pancetta, bourbon poached pear) was simply one of the greatest burgers of my lifetime; I couldn't not post about it on The Drunken Goat Dispatches.  

The bourbon poached pear offered
a slightly sweet contrast to the salty pancetta and brie.

The large roll served as a sturdy (but no overbearing) base for the thick, well-seasoned burger. The toppings were perfectly portioned, making for a well-constructed burger that stayed together with every large, heaping bite.

To say that Kuma's set the bar high for all future burgers is an understatement. I admit to even soaking up the extra burger grease with my remaining french fries. I simply didn't want it to end. 

The Pizza Predicament

Last fall, a couple stopped me on the street in Bucktown and asked kindly, "We have a question for you. We're trying to figure out where to eat tonight. What's your favorite pizza place in Chicago?"

My response? "Well, that's kind of a loaded question..."

50 States, 50 Pizzas: Pequod's was highlighted
as one ofIllinois' best. Do you agree?

Did they want to eat several slices or one? Did they want to go out afterwards or immediately pass out in a pizza coma? How important was crust to them? Were they thinking classic toppings (pepperoni, mushroom, sausage) or did they want mozzarella di bufala, imported prosciutto and heirloom tomatoes?

I had so many questions.

People everywhere are passionate about pizza. Look no further than the Food Network's recent 50 States, 50 Pizzas feature to see that the nation's obsession with pizza knows no bounds. In Chicago, we're fortunate enough to have a wide of range regional favorites at our finger tips.

With so many options, how do you find your favorite, go-to, standby pizza? This is the pizza predicament, and it's a good problem to have. While the search continues for my go to, here are a few of my favorite, regionally-inspired and crave-worthy pizzas.

This is well worth the extra time on the treadmill.

Chicago: I admit to having a love-hate relationship with Chicago's revered deep dish. I love a good Lou Malnati's uncut pizza during a football game on a Sunday in November. I hate that I can't eat more than a slice or two without immediately feeling like I need to have my cholesterol checked and/or enroll myself into a weight-loss clinic. I love the butter crust and plum tomato sauce. I hate how my skinny jeans fit the next day. Is it worth it in the end? You bet it is.

New Haven: Modern Apizza and Pepe's in New Haven, Connecticut made this style of pizza legendary. As an East Coast native I was thrilled to see New Haven-style pizza at Piece when I first moved here five years ago. With its on-premise microbrewery and live band karaoke on Saturday nights,  Piece in many ways has an edge over the New Haven-based counterparts of my childhood. My favorite is eating the sausage, spinach and ricotta pizza while catching up on the Red Sox on one of Piece's many flat screens.

Quad Cities: I had my first encounter with Quad Cities pizza at Roots on Chicago Avenue in West Town a few weekends ago. I wasn't quite sure what to expect, but I was intrigued by Roots' famous malt crust and assortment of midwest microbrews. My IPA paired perfectly with the prosciutto, mushroom and mozzarella pizza, and the malt crust - with its chewy consistency and slight touch of sweetness - countered the mild heat in the sauce. Other than Pequod's burnt, buttery pan pizza crust, I can't think of another crust that has made an impression on me quite like Roots.

Proof that God loves cheese: mozzarella di bufala campana 

Naples: Anthony Bourdain's recent No Reservations episode on Naples left me craving authentic, brick oven pizza.  Thankfully, I didn't have to look much farther than La Madia in River North to meet this craving. The large brick oven at the heart of the open kitchen and brings a warmth (both literally and figuratively) to the restaurant. Its margherita (mozzarella di bufala campana, tomato, torn basil), Parma classic (mozzarella, tomato sauce, prosciutto di Parma, arugula), taleggio with three-hour roasted grapes and housemade fennel sausage and sweet onion pizzas are all standouts (as is La Madia's pizza fondue).

Whether you're needing greasy salvation after a late Saturday night or looking for a thin brick oven pizza, the options are endless. The pizza predicament is a delicious problem to have, especially in a place like Chicago. The best part? I've barely even scratched the surface here. What have I missed? Leave a comment and let me know.

Why We Eat

We eat for a lot of reasons. We eat to feel satisfied. We eat to belong. We eat to celebrate the high-points and be comforted at the low-points. We eat to be stronger and healthier. We eat to socialize. We eat to explore new countries, cultures and cuisines. We eat because sometimes it's easier to get business done over a satisfying meal versus a never-ending conference call.

Eating gives us fuel to do amazing things like run marathons.  Eating gives us a reason to gather and reconnect. Eating unites us across continents and divides. Eating cures hangovers.

We eat to remember what it was like to sit at our mom's kitchen table. We eat to feel whole again. We eat to feel transported to another time and place.We eat for a lot of reasons...these are just some of mine.

The Drunken Goat Dispatches will explore the joys of food and eating its many forms: fancy meals, greasy meals, classic-comfort meals, healthy meals and long-sprawling-god-I-hope-this-never ends meals.

Thank you for reading and following The Drunken Goat Dispatches. A special thanks also to my friends and family who encouraged me to marry my two passions: eating and writing.

"Food without wine is a corpse; wine without food is a ghost; united and well-matched they are as body and soul, living partners." ~Andre Simon 

Paris 1906 Lives On

Grant Achatz' Paris 1906 menu at Next might be long gone (we're on to Thailand now), but thankfully this video lives on.  Whenever I need a three minute food escape or a break from reality, I watch this. It makes me feel energized, refocused and appreciative of the things that matter: time spent with friends and family over an amazing bottle of wine and unforgettable food.

I also happen to wish this song soundtracked the movie of my life, particularly the food scenes (ideally done in a well-edited and generously retouched montage).

The Summer Detox, Chicago Style

Each year, Memorial Day to July Fourth is an eating-drinking whirlwind. The weather is warm and the opportunities to indulge are plentiful.

Between the baseball games (hot dogs, beers), barbecues (cheeseburgers, pasta salad), al fresco cocktail hours (mojitos, anyone?) and general indulgences (see previous posts on delice de bourgogne cheese, lobster rolls and one of the most high-calorie salads ever created), I'm about ready for a mid-summer detox.

But how can one detox in a hard-drinking, hard-eating city like Chicago?

Here are a few of my stand-by summer detoxing strategies:

Summer vegetable salad with crab cake.

• Keep it local, keep it simple: Whether you work/live in the city or the suburbs, the access to local farmers' markets is outstanding. I try and take advantage of the markets as much as possible in the summer, but especially so when I'm trying to eat clean, vitamin-rich foods. If it's in season, it's probably delicious. If I'm looking for some inspiration, I'll turn to Mark Bittman's Minimalist archive in the New York Times for recipes and ideas, all of which are simple, delicious and rely on fresh ingredients.
  
• Get it Delivered: Can't make it to the farmer's market? Have fresh, organic produce shipped to your door. Services like Door to Door Organics and Peapod ensure your fridge stays packed fresh with fruit and vegetables.
• Eat the Rainbow: Summer's bounty yields a ton of delicious fruits and vegetables. I try and make my meals as colorful as possible. If your dinner has reds, greens, yellows and oranges, chances are it's pretty healthy.
• Meatless Monday's...Tuesday's...Wednesday's...: When I'm trying to detox in the summer, I try to rely on fish such as tuna and salmon. Both options are light in hot weather, cook quickly on the grill and can be found in most restaurants. Sticking with this strategy was particularly helpful at recent work lunches at Rosebud Prime and Smith & Wollensky. In both cases, I opted for simple, seared tuna dishes in lieue of the heavy (though admittedly delicious) steaks both venerable institutions are known for. I'll get back there for the steaks one of these weeks.
• Sushi: An Eat Out Go-To: Whether I'm meeting a friend for dinner or ordering in, sushi is a healthy, balanced option IF you order correctly. Sticking with simple maki rolls (tuna and avocado, yellow tail and scallion) and sushi/sashimi pieces is key. While it's tempting to order the "Big Macs of Sushi" (Butterfly's Hurricane roll is by far favorite), I find the lighter sushi to be just as satisfying.

Eating light in the summer can be difficult, but when all else fails, turn to the lakefront. Take a long walk or a run or a bike ride. Breathe in the fresh air. Turn off your cell phone. Silence the voices that push deadlines and to-do lists. Ignore emails. After all, that's often what we need a detox from the most.

Delice de Bourgogne Seduction

Those of you will come to know that while I love food of all varieties, my most favorite edible is cheese. Hard, soft, salty, mild, goat, sheep, buffalo, cow: I've never met a piece of cheese I didn't like (or at least want to meet). It seems as though the artisnal cheese plate has become a restaurant standard these days. There are a few places in the city that do this exceptionally well. The Purple Pig, Bin 36 and Bin Wine Cafe and Bluebird immediately to mind but certainly there are others.  

I recently had the opportunity to sample the cheese plate at Maude's Liquor Bar, a new, bistro-inspired restaurant and bar in the West Loop with very forgiving lighting, a comfortable and cozy atmosphere and classic French food. It's the type of place to hunker down in during a storm.

Heaven on a plate. 

As it so happened, a friend and I stopped in there on a Wednesday night as one of Chicago's legendary spring downpours was winding down. After sampling their Viognier, Sauvignon Blanc and Saint Germain Fizz, we turned to Maude's cheese plate and were completely and utterly seduced by the Delice de Bourgogne.

Where other restaurants go over the top with their cheese varieties and corresponding accoutrement, Maude's approach is direct and simple. The Delice de Bourgogne is a rich, buttery cow's milk cheese that's impressive enough to stand on its own. It's pungent but not overbearing. Maude's served a large, oozing wedge of it with a warm baguette and a spread of apples and dijon mustard. The hint of spice in the spread countered the richness of the cheese perfectly. The experience left us wanting more, and we both later confessed we woke up the next morning thinking about it.

I'd like to say that the Delice de Bourgogne was the first time I was seduced by a wedge of cheese, but it wasn't. In fact, I have a long and storied past with Humboldt Fog. A topic for another day.