Restaurant Week 2013 - Nellcôte

Last month, as one of my New Year's Resolutions, I vowed to get out more. So when I sat down to sketch out my 2013 to-do list, one of the first things I penciled in was Restaurant Week for the month of February. I've had some really great experiences with Restaurant Week in the past, even if it always ends up costing more than I think it will, and the service can be a little dicey when the staff knows they won't be receiving their usual tips. 

I have gotten to have dining experiences that would have otherwise been well outside of my budget, such as Le Colonial and Mercat a la Planxa, and even discovered one of my all-time favorite restaurants, La Madia. Last year, we didn't make it to Restaurant Week because we had just finished moving, and we were reeling from all the money we had spent to do so. I wanted to rectify that oversight by taking full advantage of Restaurant Week in 2013.

I started planning for Restaurant as soon as the participants and menus were announced on the Choose Chicago website. I am an unapologetic planner, and I put all of my talents to bear in crafting an itinerary that worked with our schedule, was compatible with the reservations that were available, and included the most restaurants I was interested in checking out. I finally settled on a line-up of four, three of which I would try with Justin, even if it meant spending as much on dining out in one week as I usually budget for groceries for an entire month.

My schedule for this year was highly influenced by my new neighborhood at work. Being surrounded by trendy restaurants that I read about constantly in the local press but never get to try is a mild form of torture for me (I know, I know, this is a first-world problem), so I was determined to work in as many West Loop restaurants as possible. In the end, three of the four places I went were all on West Randolph Street.

We kicked off our 2013 Restaurant Week experience with Nellcôte, which I walk past constantly, and about which I have heard much from my boss, who is a fan. One of my favorite local food writers proclaimed it one of his favorite restaurants of the past year, and I have to admit, I was curious about the fact that they mill their own flour in-house to create their pizzas and pastas. I appreciated their attention to detail, but I had to wonder if homemade flour could really make a noticeable difference in the quality of the food.

We ended up having a nice enough experience at Nellcôte; the food was outstanding and the setting was glamorous. It just didn't feel very "us." I felt acutely out of place the entire time we were there, and that discomfort overshadowed my perception of the meal. Good as the food was, I can't really see myself ever going back there, but I'm glad to have tried it, and to be able to say I have been there.

Ambiance - The luxurious space at Nellcôte is half of the reason I wanted to try it. Every time I walked past it, I saw their elegantly upholstered chairs, sparkling chandeliers, and wanted to go inside. It was aspirational, in a sense -- I wanted to be the kind of person who ate at such an establishment. However, once we were inside, I felt like a fish out of water. As the restaurant filled up with beautiful women having girls' nights with their similarly stunning friends, ferocious cougars lined up at the bar hoping to snag their prey for the evening, and older couples who exuded an aura of wealth, I started to feel less and less like I belonged there. It was a blatant reminder that I'm not in with the "in crowd," and that I probably shouldn't bother going where the "in crowd" goes.

Service - Though our waiter was pleasant enough and the pacing of the dishes arriving from the kitchen was on point, I think that the service contributed to my overall sense of alienation at Nellcôte. I got the distinct feeling that we weren't interacting with our server in a way in which he was accustomed. It was almost as if he kept waiting for us to ask more questions, so he could show off his knowledge of the menu. He seemed surprised that we already knew what we wanted to eat.

And he kept using pretentious restaurant jargon, such as "Okay, I'm going to go ahead and course that out for you real nicely." Seriously? Don't the dishes sort of naturally fall into courses, considering it's a three-course menu? He just seemed to be taking everything a bit too seriously, but not in a "dedicated to his job" kind of way, and in more of a pretentious, "I know more than you," kind of way. He just really rubbed me the wrong way.

Food - As it turns out, the custom ground flour does make a difference, but not, perhaps, in a universally positive way. I loved the homemade baguette in the bread basket, which had a textbook-perfect crust with a tender interior, and I also felt that it improved the brioche as well. However, I thought that the same characteristics that made for delicious baguettes and brioche made the flour less successful in their foccacia bread and in their pizza crust. I expect both of those bread products to have a toothsome, chewy quality, and while they had a nice, crisp crust, the interior was too tender and lacking in chewy resistance.

The salads, on the other hand were impeccable. The Brussels sprouts in my salad were slightly overcooked for my liking (as they were in the chicken dish that I had as an entree), but the flavors of the salad were exceptionally well-balanced and provided lots of interesting contrasts. The chicken, incidentally, was great as well, with a smokey-but-not-charred exterior acquired from spending time on a wood-burning grill, and crispy skin. I traded half of it to Justin for half of his pizza, which had flavorful, high-quality toppings, even if I found the crust lacking.

My only real disappointment was dessert, which felt like an afterthought. It came in the form of a sweet but bland panna cotta, which isn't really my favorite dessert in the first place, garnished a relish of raw tropical fruits and cilantro. I hate cilantro in any form, but it certainly doesn't have any place in dessert, if you ask me.

A Chip On Your Shoulder...

Now that we are almost a whole month into 2013, I feel like I've been making decent strides towards working on my New Year's resolutions. For January, I feel like I've made a good-faith effort to get out of the house by checking out the Zoo Lights, seeing the Maharaja exhibit at the Field, and trekking downtown to see the Snow Days Festival. Not bad for the dead of winter, eh?

Though I'm not quite ready to tackle Grandma's caramel recipe yet, there was one thing left on my to-do list that I had not yet started to chip away at: trying more cookie recipes. And I knew just which one I wanted to go for first -- a shortbread-type cookie featuring potato chips in a salty-sweet mash-up, from Smitten Kitchen. It had been calling to me from my baking board on Pinterest, and there was finally a deal on potato chips at the store. It appeared that the time had come for these cookies, right under the wire for January.

God knows what must go throw Justin's mind when I take on an unusual project like this. When he saw the chips going into the grocery cart, he said, "Chips? Yay!" When he wandered into the kitchen while I was baking, he said, "Having a little snack while you bake?" These were all rational assumptions, and I didn't feel a need to tell him he was off-base.

Which is why, when I handed him a freshly-baked cookie, he had no idea there were potato chips inside, despite the fact that they were crumbled on top as a garnish. When I asked him to guess the secret ingredient, he suggested nuts, which were in fact in the cookies, but not exactly the response I was going for, and I finally had to shed light on the matter. Apparently, potato chips aren't such an oddball addition to sweets after all, in fact, they barely stand out.

Don't get me wrong, both of us liked the cookies, and I enjoyed the extra crunch provided by the chips. However, I think the potato chips put me in the wrong frame of mind to really fall In love with this recipe. I was ready for something saltier, and at the end of the day, thinking about chips just made me want to sit down with a bag and go to town on the chips themselves.

In my opinion, baked goods should be an indulgence unto themselves, not leave you jonesing for another snack. I guess it's a good thing that I have all year to find more contenders for this year's Cookie Bonanza!

Potato Chip Cookies

adapted from Smitten Kitchen

Cookies

1 cup (2 sticks or 225 grams) unsalted butter, at room temperature

1 cup (200 grams) granulated sugar, divided

1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

1/4 teaspoon table salt (optional, see note above)

1/2 cup chopped and toasted pecans

1/2 cup finely crushed potato chips

2 cups (250 grams) all-purpose flour

Potato chip salt finish (optional)

1 tablespoon crushed potato chips

1 1/2 teaspoons flaked sea salt

Preheat your oven to 350 degrees F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper and set aside. In a large bowl, cream together the butter with 1/2 cup of the sugar until lightly and fluffy. Mix in the vanilla and table salt, if using, until smooth. Add the pecans, 1/2 cup crushed potato chips and flour together and mix until just combined.

Place the remaining 1/2 cup sugar in a small bowl. Scoop a tablespoon-sized mound of dough and form it into a small ball with the palms of your hands. Roll the ball in the remaining sugar until coated. Place on prepared baking sheet and using the bottom of a drinking glass to slightly flatten the cookies. Cookies only need to be an inch apart; they only spread a little. Sprinkle with a few flakes of the potato chip salt, if using. Repeat with remaining dough.

Bake cookies until lightly golden at the edges, about 15 minutes. Transfer to cool on a wire rack.

Rise and Shine...

In the course of our nearly two and a half years together, one thing has remained a constant - Sunday morning breakfasts are, and always have been, Justin's domain. Early in our relationship, I suspect Justin assumed this responsibility as a means of impressing me, but now that we've been living together for a year, I think it has more of a practical basis -- Justin always wakes up hungry and wants to eat right away, whereas I am content to grab some extra sleep while he toils in the kitchen, because my hunger instincts don't kick in until later. Still, I appreciate the extra time to lounge in bed, and I still love being waited on by the man that I love.

Luckily for me, I still get a say in what he makes. Sometimes I am in the mood for something classic, like pancakes, or sometimes I request one of my favorites, like the sweet potato and sausage hash we discovered together. This week, however, I had something different in mind, to hopefully further expand our breakfast repertoire. I had filed away a breakfast hash recipe some time ago that employed Brussels sprouts and bacon, and because we had leftover sprouts from my ill-fated salad experiment, and bacon lurking in the freezer inventory, now seemed like the perfect time.

I think Justin got a little annoyed with meticulously slicing the Brussels sprouts into thin ribbons for this dish, but in my mind, it was well worth the effort. Though Brussels sprouts may not be the first thing that come to mind when one conjures up a mental image of hash, or of breakfast in general, I really enjoyed this less heavy take on the dish. A hearty, stick-to-your ribs meal can be a great start to your day, but sometimes you want to eat a breakfast that won't make you want to go right back to bed, and this is it.

Bacon and eggs are a classic breakfast pairing, and bacon and Brussels sprouts are a match made in heaven, so really, what is there not to love about this meal? Whether you have someone making your breakfast and you can make a request, or you have to do all your own chopping and cooking, this recipe is definitely worth trying either way. If the idea of Brussels sprouts for breakfast is just too weird for you, then by all means, make this hash for dinner; it will be equally tasty no matter the time of day.

Brussels Sprout Hash

adapted from Cook Smarts

4 strips of bacon, chopped

12 Brussels sprouts, halved and thinly sliced

1/4 c. pecans, toasted

2-4 eggs

Heat a medium-sized non-stick pan over medium-high heat. Add half the oil and then chopped bacon. Cook bacon for about 3 to 4 minutes until the edges start to crisp

Add Brussels sprouts and sauté for about another 2 to 3 minutes. Since the sprouts have been sliced so thinly, they will cook quite quickly. Add the nuts and toss through. Spoon your hash onto a serving plate, and return the pan over medium-high heat

Add a half tablespoon of oil to the pan and crack your eggs into pan. Once your eggs are cooked over-easy, slide it over your hash and sprinkle with desired amount of salt and pepper.

Ain't Snow Thang...

I've always said that traditions are very important to me, but after a few recent experiences, I'm starting to question the wisdom of that belief. You see, today Justin and I schlepped downtown to see the Snow Days Festival, the annual Chicago snow sculpture competition that started in 2010. Even though there was practically no snow on the ground and they had to create all of the artwork using artificial snow, they still held the festival this year, and I was determined to see it again after missing it last year (it was held the same weekend as our move, and there was no way I could make time for both.)

When Snow Days first started, it was held in Grant Park, practically across the street from my old apartment, which made it convenient enough to lure me out into the cold for an outdoor event. I was seriously impressed that year with the quality of the sculptures, enough so that I traveled to Navy Pier the following year, when it relocated, even though I normally avoid that tourist trap of a destination like the plague. It was worth the trip that year as well, and I enjoyed sharing the experience with Justin, whom I had only been dating for a few months at the time. I had such positive experiences the first two years, that I was really bummed to miss Snow Days last year.

So when the Department of Cultural Affairs and Special Events announced the date for Snow Days this year, I made a point of scheduling it into our calendar. I wanted to go so badly that I even planned to make the trip when I found out that my parents would both be parking at their condo that weekend while they were out of town, and we would have to take public transportation unless we wanted to pay full-price to park in the Loop. I was that determined.

We decided to make an afternoon of the trip, and have lunch first in the city. I presented Justin with a few options: La Madia (my favorite, and I hadn't been in months), XOCO (Chef Rick Bayless' torta emporium), or Slurping Turtle, a ramen-focused hotspot that had made it onto a lot of "Best of 2012" lists and had a Bib Gourmand from Michelin to recommend it. Justin, when faced with many food options, has a tendency to skew Asian in his preferences, so he chose Slurping Turtle, and it ended up being the best decision we made all day.

Even though we had to wait quite a while for a table despite the fact that we had arrived pretty late in the lunch hour, the food was worth the inconvenience. It was certainly the best bowl of ramen I've had in Chicago, and possibly ever, since I don't think I actually ate ramen when I was in Japan in 2008. (How did I let that happen?) Plus, the portion size was so generous that Justin and I easily could have shared one bowl instead of each having our own, making it the perfect meal to fortify ourselves for our journey out into the cold.

However, our wonderful afternoon kind of fizzled out when we got to Navy Pier. The festival may have been crowded with spectators, but the quality of the artwork was nowhere near where it has been in the past. There were fewer sculptures in general, causing me to speculate whether artists had cancelled due to the lack of snowfall so far this year, and the sculptures that were there were lackluster, to say the least. They lacked the gravity-defying risks taken by artists of years past, and they were not nearly as detailed. There was an overall underwhelming lack of ambition on display, to be sure.

This is supposed to be a climatic battle between Batman and Jaws. Yes, you read that right.

The amateur contest, which pits teams from Chicago-area high schools against each other, boasted nearly as many entries as the professional competition, and the quality of the submissions didn't seem all that much lower. My favorite was a Lego mini-fig sculpted by a team from Lane Tech High School; in fact, despite some collapses in areas of the sculpture, it was one of my favorites of the day overall.

Of the professional sculptures, this one was my favorite, since I can't resist gargoyles or cathedrals.

Needless to say, we were both disappointed in the Snow Days Festival this year. The best part of our afternoon was our lunch, by far, but I didn't need to schlep downtown on the Red Line in the cold just to eat ramen. I could have waited to do that until the weather warmed up. 

Much as I like to observe traditions and build routines into my schedule, I think it might be time to let this one go. Though it pains me to say so, I think the same might be said about going to see the Zoo Lights at the Lincoln Park Zoo each holiday season. The quality of the light display hasn't changed, but Justin's willingness to pay for parking has, and it's not really worth going if I have to squeeze in a visit in under thirty minutes. Traditions are nice, and create a wonderful sense of shared history and common experience, but they also need to stay relevant to the times. Looks like I'll be looking for some new traditions come next winter!

You Can't Always Get What You Want...

Though my palate seems to be getting broader with age, my tortured history with vegetables is well-documented. That's why it came as such a surprise to discover a salad at my office holiday potluck last month for which I fell head-over-heels. My supervisor, Tara, had made it, which is why I had felt obligated to try it; otherwise, the "Kale and Brussels Sprout Salad" label would have been enough to deter me, no matter how "yummy" she claimed it to be.

You see, I have never had a particularly good experience with kale; it is so tough that the only time I seem to be able to tolerate it is in soups, and even then it does a shockingly good job of maintaining its robust texture. My experiences with kale salad have been even worse, to the point of being completely inedible. Plus, even though I've been nursing a burgeoning love affair with Brussels sprouts, I've never been particularly fond of them in their raw state.

As a result, I spooned the most meager of portions of Tara's salad onto my plate -- enough to say I'd tried it, but not a morsel more. When I reluctantly brought the fork to my mouth, I was blown away! It tasted very similar to a Caesar salad (probably my favorite way of consuming lettuce, maybe because its also the least healthy), and the thinly-sliced ribbons of kale and Brussels sprouts were surprisingly tender. The cheese provided a sharp tang, and the nuts added crunch to an already texturally-rich dish.

It was so good that I went back for seconds, thirds, and even fourths. I noshed on salad all throughout the day, even though I knew we were going to Girl and the Goat for our office party later that day. I just couldn't seem to stay away, and for me to have that experience with something that is actually relatively good for me is practically unheard of. I made sure to get the recipe from Tara right then and there.

However, later that night, I started to feel terrible. My stomach hurt throughout dinner, but I thought I was just overly full and figured I probably wasn't doing myself any favors by continuing to sample every new dish that was brought to our table because I didn't want to miss out. However, by the time I got home, my stomach ache was so bad that I could hardly sit up, or stand. There were no other gastrointestinal symptoms -- just horrific and debilitating pain. It continued to be so bad that I had to stay home from work the next day.

I couldn't figure out what I had eaten that had upset my stomach so much, because I had eaten so many things, both at the holiday potluck and at Girl and the Goat that aren't normally a part of my diet. It really could have been anything.

Fast forward to this evening, when I persuaded Justin to make Tara's salad for me, because I was feeling too tired to cook. He meticulously cut up all the vegetables, toasted the nuts for garnish, assembled the dressing, and tossed everything together. I was in seventh heaven -- the salad was just as good at home as it had been at the office potluck. I rejoiced over finally finding a dish that was good for me and good for my palate.

And then it started; the stomach pain was back with a vengeance. A friend of mine has been suggesting to me for a long time that I should get checked out for Irritable Bowel Syndrome, based on a number of symptoms that have been plaguing me for years. She has the conditions, and recognized a lot of similarities between our complaints. Doubled over in pain on the couch, I did some Googling and discovered that people who have the type of IBS my friend thinks I might have tend to not be able to tolerate raw kale, and other otherwise healthy raw vegetables.

So maybe there is something to my friend's hypothesis; I'll have to bring it up at my next annual physical. But until then, there is a huge Tupperware container full of kale salad in my fridge that Justin is going to have to polish off on his own. For my part, I am heartbroken that I'll have to watch him eat it from the sidelines, knowing how delicious it is but not wanting to injure my insides any more.

As long as you don't have a sensitive stomach, you need to make this salad. It is seriously one of the most delicious bowls of greens I have ever consumed in my 27 years, and I consider it a tragedy that I will not be able to savor it again. So enjoy it on my behalf, loyal readers, because I feel that even though I can't eat it myself, I owe it to the universe to spread the word about this tasty vegetable treat. Go forth and enjoy -- I'm jealous!

Kale and Brussels Sprout Salad
adapted from Bon Appétit

1/4 c. fresh lemon juice
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard
1 tablespoon minced shallot
1 small garlic clove, finely grated
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt plus more for seasoning
Freshly ground black pepper
2 large bunches of Tuscan kale (about 1 1/2 lb. total), center stem discarded, leaves thinly sliced
12 oz. Brussels sprouts, trimmed, finely grated or shredded with a knife
1/2 c. extra-virgin olive oil, divided
1/3 c. almonds with skins, coarsely chopped
1 c. finely grated Pecorino

Combine lemon juice, Dijon mustard, shallot, garlic, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and a pinch of pepper in a small bowl. Stir to blend; set aside to let flavors meld. Mix thinly sliced kale and shredded brussels sprouts in a large bowl.

Measure 1/2 c. oil into a cup. Spoon 1 tablespoon oil from cup into a small skillet; heat oil over medium-high heat. Add almonds to skillet and stir frequently until golden brown in spots, about 2 minutes. Transfer nuts to a paper towel-lined plate. Sprinkle almonds lightly with salt.
Slowly whisk remaining olive oil in cup into lemon-juice mixture. Season dressing to taste with salt and pepper.

Add dressing and cheese to kale mixture; toss to coat. Season lightly with salt and pepper. Garnish with almonds.

Cold As Ice...

All things considered, we've been having a remarkably mild winter so far this year, giving ever greater evidence of the impact of climate change. Chicago has actually broken a record for least amount of snowfall already this season, and though I just bought two new winter costs, one of which was a heavy-duty parka, I haven't really needed it until this week. In fact, Justin has been getting by on just a jacket, choosing to leave his winter coat in storage until today, when winter finally decided to make its presence known in the Windy City.

I've always said that it's not truly cold until my breath makes my scarf freeze to my face; this morning, not only was my scarf covered in a film of ice crystals, but my eyelashes were getting stuck together with frost, making it hard to see as we walked to the train station. For his part, Justin had ice on both his lashes and his eyebrows, and his glasses had completely fogged up, rendering them virtually useless. Luckily, I can see relatively well without mine, so I can store mine in my purse until I get to work, which is only slightly more convenient.

It's official folks: it may have arrived late, but even without the snow, winter has arrived!

Beyond Rubies...

Though museums will always hold a special place in my heart, I must confess, I have not been getting out to see them with my usual enthusiasm ever since I lost my job at the History Museum and it was no longer free to do so. Much as I believe in cultural enrichment and supporting these institutions, the price admission for most of the larger museums around the city is double that of a typical movie ticket, and I don't go to the movies either unless I have a gift certificate, free passes, or I'm seeing the cheaper matinee showings. I just don't have that many entertainment dollars to spend, even for something as important to me as a museum.

Hence, when I started seeing the signs around town for the Field Museum's current special exhibit entitled, "Maharajah: The Splendor of India's Royal Courts," splashed with images of glittering gold, rubies, and diamonds, I did not make a beeline to go see it. Instead, I asked my mother if she was interested in going, because she has special museum privileges through one of her credit cards that get her her guests in for free at several local institutions. From there, I could only bide my time until we could find a time that was mutually convenient for us both.

That day turned out to be Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, since I had the day off from work (one of the perks of no longer working at the History Museum, where MLK Day was one of our busiest days in terms of programming and events). However, when the day rolled around and the weather proved to be miserably frigid cold, we had no choice but to persevere and go anyway, because it was the last week the exhibit would be open. This is why you shouldn't procrastinate folks, especially in winter!

As I mentioned, the advertising for "Maharajah" featured spectacular jewels and precious objects, so I was expecting a jewelry-focused exhibit. The Field knows that these are the kind of exhibitions that draw the crowds (hence last year's "Gold" exhibit and "Diamonds" the year before), but I felt that they were engaging in a bit of false advertising with this one. In reality, there were not that many pieces of jewelry on display, though there were an impressive array of other grandiose artifacts. There was a gilded howdah, or elephant-mounted carriage, and numerous gem-encrusted ceremonial elephant wrangling tools and fans from the processions that carried the maharajahs through town in a display of power and affluence. There were numerous prints and etchings depicting court life at the time, and incredibly elaborate clothing worn for weddings and other ceremonial occasions.

Really, it was more an exhibit about Indian culture and government, and its interaction with the forces of colonialism than anything else. For that reason, it was more educational than I Was expecting, not that that was a bad thing. I felt like I learned a lot about a time and place that I was relatively uninformed about before, so I have to give the Field Museum credit for hosting an exhibit that was information-rich, and actually furthered their mission statement. However, I couldn't help but feel cheated out of the opportunity to see lots of pretty, sparkly jewelry. Sometimes I don't want to have to think too hard, and this was one of these times.

I don't think people need to be tricked into participating in educational activities, like trying to get a small child to eat their vegetables. Besides, I think if you know what to expect, and go into a cultural experience ready to learn, you will take more away from it. The Field offers enough mindless opportunities to ogle shiny jewels without having to sell their educational content short. I enjoyed the Maharajah exhibit, don't get me wrong, but if you go, you should enter with an open mind and be ready to encounter a new culture, not just its loveliest artifacts.