Yes friends, I finally went to Alinea. And it was everything I dreamed it would be.
The custom-made playground of chef-prodigy Grant Achatz, Alinea has shot to international superstardom since it's opening in 2006, and put Chicago firmly on the map as once of the country's most exciting and progressive dining destinations. Achatz's style has been termed "molecular gastronomy", for the way he uses chemical reactions to create unique flavors and textures from standard ingredients. Achatz has reinvented the fine dining experience, playing to all of the guest's five senses, and delivering truly inspired dishes that are as visually pleasing as they are delicious. And despite what some diet-coke-sipping skeptics say, this thing is no fad. It's a revolution. And with Achatz leading the charge, it's here to stay.
Since I moved into my current apartment a year ago, I've walked past Alinea's unassuming homestead at 1723 Halsted almost every day on my way to work. It's been a kind of sweet torture - knowing I was thisclose to being able to walk through those doors... yet feeling like I was never going to get there. At that point, I was missing two criticial things: the money to fund the meal, and the people to share it with. Even if I could come up with the cash, it wasn't something I was going to do on my own. It wasn't the first time I've been so close to an Achatz-helmed restaurant - I lived just blocks from Trio while a student at Northwestern - but it's the first time I'd felt it. Day after day I'd walk past, briefly stopping to gaze at the signless, blue brick exterior, wondering what lay behind the white curtains that always obscured the windows. When I got out of work late, the windows would be ablaze with a soft, rainbow glow reminiscent of the northern lights. And still I wondered what magic lay behind them.
I thought I might lose my chance to find out when I heard last year that Grant was battling stage IV mouth cancer. It's the kind of thing that's almost biblical in it's tragic irony: one of the world's most promising up-and-coming chefs diagnosed with cancer of the tongue. But luckily, Grant fought it, and kept his tongue intact along the way, even after several doctors recommended amputation (I imagine that doctor selection process might have gone something like this). He's now back to health and back in the kitchen, crafting his next edible adventure.
And all of this brings us up to a few weeks ago, when, after several hypothetical discussions, one of my college friends put her foot down and said "let's do it". Our friend Ben was getting back from a long work stint in Africa, I had a sweet tax refund coming my way, and suddenly there was no time like the present to make the dream come true. Finally, all of the pieces fell into place. The reservation was made and it was fully on.
***
The day of the meal - and indeed the whole experience - was pretty surreal to me. As I got ready to go I found myself unexpectedly nervous and giddy. Like, butterflies-in-your-stomach, before-a-first-date giddy. I met up with my three brave friends, Amanda, Heather, and Ben, and they were equally wired. The anticipation was palpable. After taking a few pictures of ourselves outside, it was down the rabbit hole.
After being greeted by kind hosts, we were ushered to our table on the upper level. A smoky aroma hit me immediately on the walk up, and we wondered at what it could be. (We'd find out later that it was a combination of smoldering cinnamon and "fake" grill smoke.) From that moment and through the whole meal, I was wholeheartedly impressed with the unpretentious candor of the staff. Everyone who serviced us seemed like they loved their jobs and were enjoying every minute of it. And there was not an ounce of condescension the whole meal - even though we were obviously young, giggly, and very camera happy. I was totally comfortable being there and it definitely enhanced the experience.
Once we were seated, it was time for the show to begin. We all ordered the "tour" menu - 24 courses deep. The girls stuck kept it simple with water, but Ben went for the wine pairings which he thoroughly enjoyed. Going without the wine helps you keep the price down and lets you focus solely on the flavors of the food, but from what I'm told the wine definitely adds another dimension to the meal if that's what you're looking for.
Our first course was two roes (arctic char roe and Michigan steelhead roe) with traditional garnishes. Roe is something I've come to appreciate more as of late - it still freaks me out a little bit. But this stuff was so fresh it was sublime - it didn't have any of that "fishy" or "pickled" taste that you often get with caviar. And the garnishes it made a truly delightful first taste.
(All pictures courtesy of Ben Woo and his superior camera.)
The second course was a heavenly bite of foie gras with daikon, sudachi (a lime-like fruit native to Japan), and shiso garnishes and soup. The foie was really wonderful - butter-soft and surprisingly light. The garnishes gave it an interesting twist, and the "shot" of soup made for a tangy finish. With this course, as with many bites to follow - we did a sort of "cheers" and took it all at the same time. This was usually followed by a moment of silence as we savored and pondered the bite... and then often erupted into euphoric giggles. It's really hard to contain yourself when you're eating food this astonishing. Here's a good article that sums up that part of the experience very nicely.
A lovely white asparagus soup with sorrel puree, white pepper, honey marzipan, and fruity tapioca was next.
And then there was the BLACK TRUFFLE EXPLOSION (MOTHERF***ER)! This little ravioli has more black truffle packed in it than I've probably ever had in my whole life -- including the huge chunk that was on the hot potato. The broth literally explodes in your mouth when you bite down. Probably the most fantastic single bite of the evening. Gah, do I love truffle.
Before we knew it, the end was upon us. Even though we were full almost to the brim, we weren't ready for it to end. But all good things must. Knowing this, Grant capped it with one of his greatest creations: the dry caramel. Essentially, a shot of powdered salted caramel that turns to ooey gooey sweetness when it reacts with the wetness in your mouth. A memorable and lingering final goodnight "kiss".
A truly inspired, memorable, and fun culinary experience overall. I was enormously impressed by the personalbe and professional service, the aesthetic of the room and table design, and the comfort of the seats (you sit in them for a long time!). Food-wise, I loved the way that sweet & savory flavor mashups played a major role in the evening, as did big bold umami flavors, truffles, and explosions.
After letting it all sink in for a few minutes at the table, we were invited to go in the kitchen to get a look at the action. We crammed ourselves in a corner, trying our best to be out of the way, rooted to the floor in awe and wonder as the chef-scientists bustled about, constructing their art. We watched, rapt, as a quiet and contemplative Grant set two cinnamon sticks alight with what looked like an industrial-strength cooking blowtorch. When we had stayed just long enough that it was probably starting to get awkward, we said thanks to our host and unwillingly made our feet walk toward the door. Then out through the steel doors it was, back into the time-warp hallway and back out into the real world. Unable to contain ourselves any longer, we burst out in hysterical laughter at that point, ecstatic from what just happened. We took a couple pictures of ourselves literally jumping for joy. And then we walked home slowly and deliberately, with huge smiles on our faces that we couldn't wipe off minutes or even hours later.
Mine's still on. :)
1 comment:
Nothing is the same...
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