It is fitting that the first entry in this new blog is for Topolobampo, the infamous restaurant of Rick Bayless in Chicago’s River North neighborhood. Our realtor recommended it in early 2008 when we arrived to look for a house, and it has taken a year to secure a reservation between the hours of 6:30 and 9:00pm. Usually I will call several weeks in advance, only to be told I can be seated at 5:30 or after 9:30, and then I give up. Once, back in mid-October of 2008, I logged in to opentable.com and tried to book something for the Friday after Thanksgiving, only to confront the same problem. I decided to check out the next four Saturday nights, and couldn’t get a table at a reasonable hour even nine weeks in advance. For me, that is the kiss of death for a restaurant; I have no desire to plan my life that far in advance, and I can’t imagine that there are so few places to eat that I would have to.
Finally, with only three weeks notice, I secured a table on a Tuesday evening at 7:45. We were excited, as Laura and I love Mexican flavors and ingredients, and she is mostly vegetarian, which Chef Bayless has a reputation for catering to.
Before I dive straight in, I realize that some of you will probably yell, “sour grapes!” There’s no point in arguing with you, just read my reasoning and weigh it as you wish. I don’t want to tell you where to go or what to do, only offer my impressions and their foundations. You’re on your own after that.
First of all, I expected a restaurant that used fresh Latin American ingredients in creative ways, with a respect for authentic Mexican (not Tex-Mex) traditions. Given that, the environment of the restaurant will not disappoint you. The colors are warm and inviting, but not boring, and there is plenty of tasteful, interesting artwork on display. I didn’t feel crowded or overwhelmed by noise and motion. We sat at a two-top between other tables, but had no privacy issues (more on the neighbors later.)
First order of business: drinks. While many of you may disagree, I like a starter cocktail. That was a serious bust, as it is wine or specialty cocktails only. Laura had a special margarita, which she said rocked her world. I ordered a sparkling water.
Our server came back and we ordered the Trio, Trio, Trio appetizer – three versions of ceviche. My favorite was the Ceviche de Atun “Chamoy”, made with Ahi tuna in a spicy red-chile Chamoy salsa. But honestly, the Ceviche Fronterizo, a blue marlin with green chiles, cilantro and other tasties, also kicked ass. The third recipe, with shrimp and calamari, got higher marks from Laura (I’m not the biggest calamari fan.)
I have to say at this point that, while our table was tended well and the service process was professional, I never did feel any connection with the staff in the restaurant. No one introduced themselves, and several people worked the table, making it difficult to determine a service structure. It left me feeling a bit hollow, like I would be forgotten the moment I left the door. I guess after waiting a year to get a table, I just wanted someone to make me feel like I would be welcomed back in less time.
My salad, the roasted asparagus and rhubarb, was probably the highlight of the evening. It had grilled fiddlehead ferns and was drizzled with cheddar cream and pepita oil. The story is that Chef Bayless has his own microgreens, and they were a treat. All I can say is that if you visit the restaurant and don’t order this you’re a fool.
Our main dishes included the Langosta al Mojo – a grilled lobster tail in red-chile sauce, and the Budin de Habas – an interesting souffle of fava beans with smoked morel mushrooms. The fava bean souffle left me wanting: its texture was dry and it wasn’t a good vehicle for collecting the sauce. While I love morel mushrooms, they just weren’t enough to salvage the dish. Laura’s lobster tail was interesting and perfectly cooked, but both of us ended the course feeling a bit disappointed.
We split dessert – a creme caramel chocolate tart – and both enjoyed it very much. I had the restaurant’s special blend of dark roast and Kenyan coffee, which had great flavors and a mild acidity. It was fabulous, but the five dollar price for a small cup made me feel a bit abused. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the idea of fair trade, I just can’t imagine that the $4.65 mark-up is going to the farmlands of Kenya.
That said, I’m not working to book another table. Our six plates, two drinks and cup of coffee came to $200; which did not come across as a good value. The food was good but a bit inconsistent, and the service left me feeling disconnected with the dining experience. After a year of waiting, I still didn’t get the Rick Bayless experience. Like Tantalus, it was right in front of me, but I couldn’t reach it.
