When Ted and I showed up, the place was hopping-- even though it was a Sunday night. Luckily we had made reservations, so we only had a short wait before we were seated. The movie we were going to see didn't start until 8:20, but Ted insisted we leave about two hours for the restaurant-- which I didn't understand until we got there.
The interior of Brazzaz is very upbeat without being "loud"-- dynamic lighting, broad tables laid with crisp white linens, and gently pulsing latino pop music give it a sophisticated yet energetic feel. We were seated at a cute little window table tucked in the corner, in a perfect spot to observe the mixed clientele of the restaurant, which ranged from families and groups of adults to couples enjoying intimate dinners.
First up came the gourmet "salad bar"-- which was not so much a salad bar, but a truly exceptional buffet of cold and hot starter dishes, sides, and finger food. I mean, instead of being Brazzaz: The Brazilian Steakhouse, the place should really be called Brazzaz: America's most amazing salad bar, EVER. Seriously. Here's my first plate from the 'bar:
Highlights: Sushi, cocktail shrimp, oyster on the half shell (my first time trying oysters... not as gross as I thought), roasted mushrooms, creamy mushroom risotto (outstanding), marinated artichoke, hearts of palm, cheeses, salad greens. Bread. Not pictured on this plate but also great: cheese tortellini, green apple salad, sesame green beans.
Independent of the ‘bar, every table also gets three “sides”: mashed potatoes (perhaps the best I’ve ever had—SO GOOD), breaded fried bananas, and fried polenta. Essentially, Paula Deen’s Brazilian heaven.
By the time Brazzaz had had its way with us, we were too stuffed for dessert. We got our check, then waddled over to the Lowes Theaters at 600 Michigan Ave to see Smokin' Aces... which was everything I hoped it would be. A "fast paced action thrill ride", with dozens of famous faces and cameos (even Matthew Fox was in it for about five minutes!), that made up for what it lacked in plot with delirious scenes of egregious techno-pumping Quentin-Tarantino-style violence. Jeremy Piven delivered as the coked-out mob-prince-turned-snitch that everyone was trying to kill and collect for. I love that man.
After the movie, Ted and I of course looked for some liquid dessert to close out the evening. After sipping on some ridiculously overpriced bubblies at the elegant but snobbish Pops for Champagne, we went on sort of a wild goose chase up on Lakeview and Lincoln Park, only to find that, surprise!, most of Chicago's cocktail lounges are closed on Sunday nights. Forlornly, we shuffled into the Lion Head Pub on N. Lincoln for a nightcap next to the charming but heatless fireplace. Even though we didn't find our after-dinner-after-movie cocktail lounge, we were still pleased with the evening. As we sipped on that last drink, Ted sighed. "Its times like this that... I actually feel like I live in a city." I answered. "I know what you mean. It's so easy to go to work and come home every day... and not realize that there are so many great places and things going on all around you." And with that, we closed out our tab and made our way out into the balmy 30-degree night.
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