Today marked my second visit to Smoque, a great barbeque joint in the Irving Park neighborhood of Chicago (about a block south of the Irving Park Blue Line stop.) Snaps to Bridgid for pointing me in the right direction a few weeks back.
This is a down-and-dirty, community-seating, corner restaurant that is moving serious volume even at 4:00 in the afternoon. As you walk in, there is a sign instructing you to order first, and a large blackboard detailing your choices. The kitchen is open and visible, and the buzz is high.
I ordered a brisket platter, which comes with slaw and two sides. Today’s choices were mac & cheese and cornbread. Total cost: about eleven dollars with my Coke, which I poured at the fountain before sitting down with my book.
So, there are a couple of things that make or break a barbeque joint: getting the meat right and offering great sides. One challenge for thrifty restauranteurs is devoting the necessary time to barbeque. I can’t even begin to recount all the delicious-smelling, chewy ribs I’ve had over the years. So I’m always skeptical. But both my platters at Smoque were done right. Tonight’s brisket was sublime: the outside of the meat had a thin layer of char, while the brisket fell apart with the touch of my fork. The flavor is so lovely that using sauce should be a crime. I can’t wait to go back and try a slab of ribs.
The sides were a mixed bag. This is usually where I bitch about barbeque joints. First, the good stuff. The cole slaw is awesome; a perfect combination of sweet and tart. It is included with every platter, as it should be – this is their signature side. I also enjoyed the cornbread. It was simple and full of flavor. But most important, the moisture and texture was very enjoyable. The mac & cheese left me pretty ambivalent. It wasn’t bad, just nothing special. Especially in this day of over-the-top mac & cheese offerings, I felt let down. Next time I will definitely go back to the baked beans.
You can’t go wrong here. And believe me, I’m just repeating what others have said. But given my proclivity to eat red meat, I’m looking forward to many more delicious meals at Smoque.
I realize that I haven’t posted a drink recipe in a while (actually, I haven’t posted in a while) so I present to you my Tang martini. Happily, it doesn’t use Tang in the cocktail, just on the rim of the glass.
2 parts Absolut Citron
1 part pulp-free fresh orange juice
1 part Cointreau
Tang powdered drink mix
Chill a martini glass and rim with fresh lemon and Tang. Shake vodka, OJ and Cointreau vigorously with ice and strain into glass.
Well, we tried one of the hot, new restaurants in Chicago: Sable at the new Palomar Hotel. It has been trending high on Urbanspoon, as well as written up in Chicago Reader and Time Out Chicago. So, I called and got a table after work, and off we went on Friday evening.
The Palomar is a Kimpton Hotel, and the executive chef, Heather Terhune, was responsible for the Atwood Cafe, down the street at The Burnham, another Kimpton property. I’ve eaten at the Atwood a couple of times, and always enjoyed it. However, the whole executive chef idea makes me nervous in general, since the organizational structure removes the chef from the stove. I believe that my suspicions in this regard are justified, for reasons I will now provide.
The place looks hip when you walk through the door: dark wood, faux suede fabrics, cork, and some funky 70′s wallpaper above the kitchen. Contemporary with a touch of retro. Nice, but nothing earth-shattering. What was an immediate turn-off was the mirrored surface behind our booth. For those unfortunate enough to sit in the chairs, the effect was more disconcerting than having the wrong prescription in your eyeglasses (see photo.) That blob to the right of Laura? That’s me, taking the picture. And believe me, this is compounded as the drinks flow. I’m not sure who came up with that idea, but I’m pretty sure they haven’t eaten in the restaurant.
I can echo the review from the Chicago Reader: this seems to be more of a cocktail place than anything. Even though I could not secure a table at 7:00, when I arrived at 6:30 the restaurant was basically empty. It did eventually fill, but there wasn’t much of a hurry.
I started with a cocktail called The Bridal Shower, which combined vodka, rhubarb syrup and Campari. It was good – a commendable mix – but I was definitely not in the mood for it, and switched to a glass of Cerdon du Bugey. The wine selection seemed pretty good, albeit a bit pricey. But hey, it is downtown Chicago. An Argyle Pinot Noir was a good complement to my dinner.
The food was really inconsistent. We started with mussels in broth and found a number of them were spoiled. Otherwise they were good, but nothing special. My scallion hush puppies were like eating plain corn meal they were so dry. And the girls order deviled eggs – not my favorite – and both agreed they were only passable. Again, nothing special. That was followed by a delicious tomato cucumber salad, dressed in a tomato vinaigrette and topped with roasted peanuts. Sandi and I had flatbreads for dinner: mine a glazed pork belly and hers a mushroom and asparagus combination. They were both tasty but mine left me feeling heavy after eating just half of it.
The most disappointing aspect of the evening was the service. It was really inattentive. In fact, I would call it a deal-breaker and it will keep me from trying Sable a second time.
Back to my initial assertion, I think Sable really suffered from execution issues. Whether that is due to the absence of the chef, or just the absence of simple passion, I didn’t get the feeling that anyone was invested in creating a great dining experience. That, coupled with the fact that it wasn’t cheap, pretty much insures that my future efforts will be finding other places to patronize.
My friend Pati came to visit yesterday, and we went to The Purple Pig – a collaboration between Scott Harris of Mia Francesca fame and Jimmy Bannos of Heaven on Seven – for wine and swine. Don’t let the crappy website scare you away, this was a good destination for eating, drinking and chatting it up.
Most of the plates are small, so like tapas just dive in and prepare to share. Pati and I started with roasted beets with whipped goat cheese and a pistachio vinaigrette, which was to-die for. An asparagus and hazelnut salad was tossed in a lovely mint dressing, which was light and refreshing. And don’t forget the deep-fried manchego. The Purple Pig has a lovely selection of cheeses, but hey, it’s deep-fried. We also ordered a blade steak, which we simply call a pork steak in St. Louis. They can come from the butt or, in this case the shoulder, and it’s one cheap cut of meat that will rock your world. This one was grilled and served with a spicy Italian salami called Nduja (make sure you get both in the same bite.) A side of arugula gave a nice nutty flavor to the bite.
I convinced Pati to try the braised kale and pigs ear, which was topped with a basted egg. Two thumbs-up. We didn’t get a picture, because we snarfed it, but a great couple sitting next to us was also snapping away, and after chatting and having much fun we took pictures of their pig tails and serrano ham. It turns out that they were two chefs in town to eat and explore, so we talked about what they had found and where they might go later in the day. It really sounded like my kind of weekend.
Oh, the wine list is nice. There are a reasonable number of bottles served by the glass (a 5 oz. pour.) We tried a Cotes du Rhone (all Syrah) and a Couteaux du Languedoc (a blend of Carignan and Grenache.) While both were enjoyable the Couteaux had a fuller body and a bit more spice, which held up better against some of the pork.
Last but not least came the sweet, with a couple of double shots. My favorite was the Sicilian Iris, a beignet-type of pastry filled with chocolate and ricotta cheese. The Nutella panini was also good, although marshmallow creme is not real high on my list. The food was great, the lunch was long, and the company was entertaining. The Purple Pig was a great experience that I look forward to repeating. Next time you’re over on Michigan Avenue, think about giving it a try.
I thought I would try this one in video. Sorry you have to watch my ugly mug, but the cocktail recipe is worth it!!
By the way, I shrank the size of the video for this blog skin. If you want to see a larger version, click on the viewer to watch it on YouTube.
For those of you who don’t want to watch, here is the recipe:
4 parts vodka
1 part sage-infused simple syrup
1 part apple juice
6 fresh blackberries
For the simple syrup, bring 1/2 cup water and 1/2 cup sugar to a simmer, dissolving the sugar. Add two sprigs of fresh sage and simmer for several minutes until aromatic (don’t boil the syrup.) Remove sage and allow to cool.
Muddle blackberries in a shaker. Add the ingredients and plenty of ice. Shake vigorously and strain into a chilled glass. Garnish with a lemon twist.
Halibut season is open, which means I have access to one of my favorite ingredients – halibut cheeks. If you’ve never eaten them before, you really should look for them; many chefs will use them in specials, and they can be requested from most decent fish mongers. Unlike a halibut filet, which has a firm but tender texture, cheeks are toned by their use in the body, which makes them chewy and interesting.
And it’s all about the texture: I like to make different sauces each time I enjoy them. For the first meal this season, I dredged the cheeks in flour seasoned with salt and pepper. Knock the excess flour off; you don’t want a thick roux-style sauce. Then I browned the cheeks in olive oil and removed them from the pan. For the sauce I deglazed the pan with a French Chardonnay (no oak) and added lemon juice and capers. Just return the cheeks at the last minute. Easy. Another favorite is a tomato-saffron broth. Delicious.
Along the cheek theme – remember, it’s about the texture – I’m going to experiment with pork cheeks in the next few days. I had my first experience with them a few weeks ago at Cochon Restaurant in New Orleans. My idea is to deconstruct the hot dog, and create a combination of pork, mustard, onion and pastry elements. When I’m finished, I’ll make sure I post a description and photos. I think you’ll be surprised.
So, step outside the box and try these interesting economy cuts. They may not be popular, but they will definitely deliver a great dining experience.
What a fabulous town this is! I landed yesterday (Saturday) at cocktail hour and grabbed the first vodka-rocks I could find. After unpacking my materials for this week’s trade show, I dined at Cochon, a cajun restaurant in the Warehouse District. Everything on the menu is fresh, and all the meats are cured in-house. The vibe is upbeat and the interior design has a contemporary, urban feel.
It was a meat fest! I started off with the paneed pork cheeks, garnished with pickled anise and peanuts. The combination sounds bizarre but it was quite delicious; the peanuts were not overpowering. The pork was dreamy, but I would have liked a bit more vinegar flavor to the marinade/sauce. My salad was fresh mushrooms with fried beef jerky, and it had a touch of cilantro tossed with it. A great combination of flavors and texture. Finally, I had the smoked brisket and horseradish potato salad for my main course. That’s a hard dish to fuck up, and this was no exception. Delicious! Cochon definitely gets snaps for the overall dining experience.
The Southern Republican Leadership Council is meeting in New Orleans this week. Sadly (cue the sarcasm), I did not run into Newt Gingrich or Sarah Palin last night. But they got to do their speechy thing! And despite their rockstar celebrity, both of them finished way down in the straw poll, losing to Mitt Romney (who didn’t even show up) and Ron Paul. So the GOP hasn’t changed:
Obama is a socialist;
Stimulus spending wrecked our country;
We need to cut taxes, because that won’t add to the budget deficit;
We need to bomb Iran, because that will fix the Middle East;
Homosexuals will prevent God-fearing Christians from breeding;
Let’s forget about the War Of Northern Aggression and worship the 10th Amendment.
So, it looks like we’re going to have an elevated, intellectual debate about public policy as the midterm elections approach.
On a happier note, I just finished my poached eggs and corned beef hash at Pierre Maspero’s, a favorite breakfast joint. It’s a lovely morning and I’m going to wander the Quarter a bit before I have to setup the trade show. More to come…
There seem to be a bunch of recipes floating around which use this name, but I’m claiming the hard-core vodka space. It tastes like the real thing and will knock you on your ass.
3 parts Absolut vodka
1 part Cointreau
Splash of Navan cognac
Shake vodka and Cointreau vigorously with ice. In a very chilled martini glass, place Navan and swirl before discarding. Strain vodka into glass. Serve with orange twist.
This martini was crafted one evening at the original Atomic Cowboy, an art lounge in Maplewood, Missouri. You may change the name as appropriate. It’s a bittersweet flavor, reminiscent of grapefruit.
4 parts Absolut Citron
2 parts Orangina soda
1 part Campari
Shake until ice crystals form. Pour into a chilled glass. Garnish with lime or other fruit.
In the Fall of 2007, one of my favorite foodie mags – Saveur – devoted an entire issue to eating in Chicago. And there on the cover was the most beautiful slice of pizza that I had ever seen, at some place called Burt’s in Morton Grove. At the time I lived in St. Louis, but I kept the issue and vowed that, as soon as I could visit Chicago, I would try that pizza. Despite a couple of delays, yesterday it finally happened. And man was it worth the wait.
Burt’s is a really happy hole-in-the-wall. The current incarnation is about 25 years old, but I’m sure that most of the furnishings came from one of his earlier restaurants. An avid jazz fan, Burt also likes to collect antique phones, radios and other antiques, which line the place and contribute to the dusty feeling. The walls are littered with reviews and stories about Burt’s odyssey, his unique personality, and mostly his success at delivering the goods. After 40+ years in the business, he still works the kitchen alone, and his wife Sharon takes care of the front.
Which brings me to my arrival. I dropped in on a Friday at 11:30 for an early lunch. The place was empty. In fact, Burt was chatting with a vendor when I walked through the door, and I was psyched that I had beaten the crowd. Sharon came out to greet me, and that’s when I started to get my education. She asked me if I had called ahead. That kind of caught me off guard. I said no, and she told me that it probably wouldn’t matter; go ahead and have a seat. What I learned is that, Burt’s Place is so popular he doesn’t book tables, he schedules his ovens. You have to call, tell him when you want to eat, and he’ll have the pizza ready. When the ovens fill up, you’re screwed, even if the restaurant is empty. It kind of amazed me. Now that I know better, I have a menu at the house, and will use it to order before making the 30 minute drive north of Chicago (don’t even ask if it’s worth it.)
My antipasto salad was iceberg lettuce with olives, peppers, pepperoni, and had a tasty vinaigrette. Nothing to write home about but a nice way to start. I ordered a 10″ sausage, sliced tomato and fresh spinach pizza. All of the toppings are fresh, and I can assure you that on my next visit I will order something completely different, because I want to try everything. The banana peppers are an intriguing idea, and I’m really sorry that I skipped the fresh garlic, which was always a favorite of mine in New Jersey (especially with the sliced tomato.) Things like sliced bell pepper and fresh jalapeno make this more like a candy store than a pizza joint.
Sharon told me that they call it “pan pizza,” but when we talked regional style she kind of laughed and said, “it’s just our style.” Not Chicago, Sicilian, or stuffed. Burt just does it his way. And it’s the best way. I took a slice home to try Saturday morning. HEAVEN! Laura avoided the sausage and took a bite. I watched her face transform as the flavors, textures and bit of oven char (a trademark of his) hit. No problem getting her to join me next time.
So: 1) eat at Burt’s as soon as possible; 2) call ahead to make sure you don’t have to wait; 3) enjoy your micro-brew beers, because there is no hard liquor (bad for me, but it was lunch); 4) be nice to Sharon because she is nice to you.
I can’t wait to go back. If any of my friends want to visit Chicago, I promise we will schedule pizza for dinner one evening.
So, there are a couple of things that make or break a barbeque joint: getting the meat right and offering great sides. One challenge for thrifty restauranteurs is devoting the necessary time to barbeque. I can’t even begin to recount all the delicious-smelling, chewy ribs I’ve had over the years. So I’m always skeptical. But both my platters at Smoque were done right. Tonight’s brisket was sublime: the outside of the meat had a thin layer of char, while the brisket fell apart with the touch of my fork. The flavor is so lovely that using sauce should be a crime. I can’t wait to go back and try a slab of ribs.
