December 30

A Few Last Thoughts At The End of 2008

The weather has been really unpredictable lately, but here, in the midst of a typical Chicago winter, I can always count on a bowl of seafood tofu soup to keep me warm.  One of my favorite versions resides at The So Gong Dong Tofu House on Bryn Mawr, in what we affectionately refer to as "Little Koreatown."  This distinguishes it from the main artery of K-Town, along Lawrence Avenue, where most of the kalbi and panchan activity is.  This soup has it all: mussels, squid and a few other briny shellfish; a hearty, rich broth; some fiery, tickle-your-throat chili sauce and a mess of medium-firm tofu, broken into all sorts of pieces.  The crowning achievement comes when they serve you the soup: you crack an egg into the bowl, then vigorously stir it up to enrich the broth.  Even the panchan always surprise me here.  Instead of just the usual one or two kimchi and a token sprout or dried fish, I've had oily mackerel (on the bone) and some of the best mook (acorn jelly with a chili-scallion sauce) in Chicago.  If it's cold, go tuck into a bowl; you can thank me later.

I was in Minneapolis last week for a quick visit with mom and my brother, who was stopping through on his way back to Australia, and as we always do, we managed to check out a few great places.  I have to say, as much as the Twin Cities is considered flyover country (like Chicago still is, sadly enough), there continue to be some exciting places to eat and drink.  One of the best places is the recently-opened Midtown Global Market.  Think the Chelsea Market on steroids.  This former warehouse has been lovingly converted into a full-scale, yearround market, the likes of which Chicago is dying for.  I counted at least 10 ethnic restaurants, including Indian, Middle Eastern, Seafood, Swedish and a dynamite pastry shop, called Salty Tart, which is owned by an old friend, Michelle Gayer, whom I've known ever since she was the pastry chef at Charlie Trotter's years ago.  Michelle is in that rare upper echelon of pastry chefs, who understands more than anything the balance of sweet and salt.  We tried her coconut macaroons, a savory tart with bacon and goat cheese, and a super-addictive bun filled with pastry cream that had me screaming for more.  If you have the time, it's worth a visit to this market; it's not exactly in the best neighborhood, but they have plenty of parking and the people inside just couldn't be friendlier.

For dinner we tried The Strip Club Meat & Fish, upon the recommendation of my friend and colleague Andrew Zimmern, who knows the Twin Cities like the Cohen Brothers.   It's as if Alice Waters met her Midwestern twin.  Everything is sourced locally, including the grassfed beef, and the farms from which they gather their produce are listed like a supporting cast in a Playbill.  We devoured walleye fritters, wild mushroom tatin and lots of wild rice sausage.  The space itself is beguiling: housed in an old building that overlooks downtown St. Paul, it's not at all what I expected, but was pleasantly surprised at the quality of the food, and the knowledgeable staff.  Speaking of which, after I asked a few questions of our server, not only did they send out an extra course (and a cocktail), but the chef himself came out to chat.  Now, I'm a nobody in Minneapolis, but these guys could sense another foodie in their midst, and did everything they could to treat me with the warm hospitality that is so rare these days; yet another example of what we like to call "Minnesota Nice."   

As usual, we're staying in for New Year's - I can't even begin to think about how I would deal with the throngs on Amateur Night - so I've got a 17 pound prime rib in my fridge which will be rubbed, seared and roasted to an internal temp of 130 degrees by 8 p.m.  We're breaking out the good wine, I'm mixing a few new cocktails I've learned how to make, thanks to Dale DeGroff's excellent new book, "The Art of the Cocktail," and should be in bed by 12:30 a.m.  Have to get enough sleep, since I'm back to work on the 2nd.  By the way, in case you haven't heard (and if you haven't, you need to sign up for The Hungry Hound Group on Facebook), Food Network is re-running the Iron Chef America show I judged last year, "Battle: Rabbit" at 4 p.m. ET/PT.  Tune in, and stay tuned for a lot more in 2009.  Happy New Year.

December 14

A Taste of Lebanon... in Albany Park 

I was driving around Albany Park - one of the best neighborhoods for eating in Chicago - looking for a new bakery I had heard was about to open.  I found it just North of Lawrence on Kedzie, in a former restaurant space.  Tannourine Bakery & Sweets (4806 N. Kedzie, no phone yet), is named for a village in the hills of Lebanon, and both bakers here have a combined 80 years' worth of experience between them.  Having stretched dough and baked baklava in Dearborn, Michigan, along Warren Avenue, they have more than earned their street cred.  I've never been to Lebanon, but I can tell you that I've never had warm pita like this before (even better with a hunk of salty cheese).
 

The za'atar-coated flatbreads (pictured, right) are beyond addictive.  The spice blend of oregano, sumac and sesame is combined with olive oil, spread over the homemade dough, then baked for about 10 minutes.  If they have any in the oven, wait for them; the payoff of a fresh warm one is well worth it.  Savory pies filled with either spinach or lamb and other treats coming from the oven reminded me of an all-night bakery I once visited in Jaffa, Israel.  Not only are there savory items, but a wealth of sweets too.  

More than 50 kind of baklava: from triangles and diamond shapes filled with layers of nuts, honey and phyllo, to chunks of pistachios surrounded by lacey phyllo shards.  The bakery is slated to open this week to the public, so be sure to head up there and pick up some sweets (and savories). More good news: the owners' good friend is slated to open his own bakery just down the street in a few weeks, called Sanabel.  Pretty soon, in addition to Salaam and Tannourine, there will be a veritable Middle Eastery bakery syndicate within four blocks on North Kedzie.  Woohoo!  Baba Gannoush, anyone?

December 13

The Burger Beat...

I have been doing a ridiculous amount of eating lately.  While people celebrate at the office and bring in homemade cookies or brownies, I've been scouring the streets of Chicago, keeping my eyes open for some exciting new eats.  Just this past week alone, I munched on some killer chicken tikka sandwiches at Veerasway with my friend Andrew Zimmern, host of "Bizarre Foods" on the Travel Channel (listen to our conversation on my podcast page beginning on Dec. 18)  I also hit four burger joints in two days, satisfying my ground beef quotient for the month.  First, I met my friend (and attorney), who happens to be a huge burger fan, at the latest Five Guys in Oak Park. The Virginia-based chain is planning on opening a few locations in Chicago, and will, in fact, open its second spot in the 2100 block of North Clybourn Ave. on January 5th.  The store is plastered with press clippings from all over the country, and I find it kind of amusing when they have to blow up quotes from the Tampa, Charlottesville and Arlington newspapers, in 200 pt. font mind you, bragging they have the best burgers.  While they claim they're 100% natural, never frozen, they are too lean to begin with, and are pressed down with a metal flattener on the flat top grill, to within a few millimeters thick.  I noticed a few times they would fall apart whenever they had to be flipped; it's got to be one of the reasons that when you order a regular hamburger, you actually get two patties.  Kind of like the Billy Goat problem: unless you order a double, all you get is bun and condiments.  But my main problem with burgers this lean (and thin) is that there is not enough juiciness after they're cooked.  The ratio of beef to fat is all out of whack.  The redeeming factor here are the fries: hand-cut, fried twice and well-seasoned, they alone are the reason for a visit.

After our Oak Park experience, we high-tailed it down to Orland Park, to check out the new Fatburger on 151st and LaGrange Rd.  This California-based chain is the result of Kanye West's investment in the area, and one of the things you notice right away is the staff's friendly demeanor.  The first fast-food burger joint I've ever seen with table service!  The burgers come in a few sizes; we opted to go with the regular Fatburger, instead of the Triple Kingburger, offering a whopping 1.5 pounds of meat.  What I did like was the juicy, sloppy burger, with a good ratio of beef-to-fat.  It's no Top Notch Beefburger, but certainly of a higher quality than Five Guys.  Yet unlike Five Guys, the fries here (either thin or thick) are all from a bag, previously frozen, and are just not worth it.  The onion rings are homemade though (I didn't have any room left to try them), and while they make a big deal out of the shakes, avoid them - the vanilla tasted as artificial as a box of Hostess Twinkies.

Today, I returned to Epic Burger in the South Loop, which I had featured last month on ABC, and while I was impressed initially with the quality of the meat and the integrity of the ingredients, today's visit was kind of a downer.  The beef - like those patties at Five Guys - was pressed to a thickness that never had a chance of yielding juice nor flavor.  I with they'd keep their consistency!  Tonight we tried Milwood Pizza Burgers And More (1360 N. Milwaukee Ave., 773-772-6000) in my neighborhood.  Certainly kid-friendly, the menu is full of pizzas that are allegedly made in a wood-burning, brick oven, but it's back in the kitchen somewhere, because we couldn't see anything from the dining room.  They do offer about a half-dozen pizzas by the slice - obviously they are anticipating late-night stragglers from the bars nearby, but the two versions we tried - the margherita and the Hawaiian - were disappointed for a couple of reasons:  both suffered from way too much cheese (what is it with every damn pizza place in Chicago?)  and the result of this overwhelming cheese-fest is that everything else is muddled beneath it.  The Hawaiian featured a few measly wedges of canned pineapple.  Wow. Where was the trademark blistered crust?  Those odd-shaped bubbles that are reminiscent of a good wood-fired oven?  Where was the toothsome chew?  But I digress.  I was curious about the burgers, and tried the basic Milwood Burger, an Angus affair, cooked medium rare, served with red onions, pickles and tomatoes on some nicely-toasted buns courtesy Highland Bakery.  The burger was actually pretty good.  Juicy, cooked to specifications and a good ratio of beef-to-fat-to-condiment.  The "seasoned" fries that arrive alongside were just o.k., and sadly, not hand-cut.  I'm convinced that if the establishment takes the time to cut their own fries, they're showing that they're making a commitment to the marriage of burger and fry, and that the burger quality usually follows suit.  I would never go out of my way, but If I'm really jonesing for a burger, it might be worth a stop if I happen to be blowing down Milwaukee Avenue.

December 7

Oy, I wouldn't even take my mom here

Partly because my name is on the front door (no connection, I assure you) and partly because Chicago has always been devoid of any serious deli fare, like 2nd Ave. Deli or Katz's in New York, I was ever so curious to go grab a nosh at the new Steve's Deli across the street from the East Bank Club downtown.  I came ready: five Jews, all with empty stomachs, ready to tackle a menu that, on the surface at least, looked pretty darn good.  Steve's has been a popular option in suburban Detroit for several years, and so when I saw that they had stocked the front display racks with all sorts of too-good-to-be true imports like Fox's syrup and North Shore bakery items, I was stoked.  Then a perusing of the menu, and all of the usual suspects on offer: kishke, matzo balls, corned beef, pastrami.. lots of rye bread.  Again, all was looking good.  Until that bowl of soup arrived.  While I give them props for a texturally divine matzo ball - not too leaden, not to fluffy, a good amount of schmaltz to give it the chickeny richness so often missing in other, lesser balls of matzo and fat, the soup was just plain lukewarm.  Bits of carrot and chicken were a nice touch, but barely warm soup?  Not just that, but the broth tasted as if they dipped a chicken into the stock, instead of boiling it for hours to infuse it with fat and bones and skin.  Mimi Sheraton, the former Times Food Critic told me once that a good chicken soup should have bits of fat globules on the surface, reflecting the fact that the stock was made the proper way, with tiny pockets of flavor throughout; it should also be served near scalding hot, so the flavors and enjoyment of the soup can slowly be appreciated over the next several minutes, as it cools and steams and enriches your senses.  She should know.  She wrote a book on the subject.  But I digress.  When I asked the waitress if she could give me a hot bowl of soup, the bowl was whisked away, only to return 10 minutes later with that same matzo ball, missing the two bites I took out of it, along with the same, soggy bagel chip, and that same broth, obviously microwaved.   Not a good start.

We then tried the kishke and gravy, and while the kishke lacked any of that fatty richness and soft texture I so remember as a kid, there was just no excuse for a tepid dish of cold - I'm not exaggerating for effect here - COLD gravy.  Couldn't they at least stick their finger in it to test it out?  The meal just continued to go downhill from there: the corned beef (as well as everything else meat-related here, including pastrami, salami, etc.) all comes from Vienna Beef, so you're getting the same industrialized beef they sell at every major grocery store and fast food deli in the city.  Dry, lean and served barely warm, I would have been better off skipping this sad excuse for a corned beef on rye; incidentally, the menu promised "crispy" rye bread, which I thought meant lightly toasted.  I guess not, because it arrived room temp.

If you're going to proclaim to be an authentic Jewish deli, couldn't you rub, then smoke/slow-roast and slice your own damn brisket like they do in New York?  This is one of the reasons Chicago delis suck so much.  Go to Schwartz's in Montreal or Katz's in New York, and you'll see what I mean.

Finally, on more of a service issue than food, while we were waiting for our dry cookies and towering slice of Carnegie Deli cheesecake (actually, pretty darn good), the bus boy decided it would be easier to just plop his dirty bucket of dishes onto our table while he wiped it down, rather than just remove the plates and haul them back to the kitchen.  I'm all for making your job easier dude, but it was yet another reminder of why I disliked this place so much, I ate there twice: my first and last time.  Oy vey. 

December 2

Upscale Eats in Obama Country

A viewer recently recommended a brand new market/cafe near the University of Chicago, just a mile or so from Obama Ground Zero.  The Z & H MarketCafe is a welcome addition to the neighborhood, full of hard-to-find ingredients, fresh produce and imported treats like Greek yogurt and rare sodas.  Another plus: one of the most extensive cheese selections South of Fox & Obel and Pastoral.  A small selection of homemade salads tempted me, especially the tomato-fennel number, but the dill potato salad and vibrant purple cabbage were also tempting.  A brief assortment of sandwiches and paninis also looked promising; I tried the pollo del mar (chicken of the sea) which was mercury-free tuna between slices of very good Labriola bread.  I couldn't resist one of the rare, Fentimans ginger beers and a homemade chocolate chip cookie, which was, stunningly, way better than I expected.  They're making as much as they can in-house - including the mayo - and the great little assortment of dry goods is absolutely worth the trip if you live anywhere near Hyde Park; it will save you a trip up to Whole Paycheck on Roosevelt.