All Things Michael Miles

I have a lot of family in small towns who don’t understand my love of big cities: the trash, the noise, the people everywhere. But where else can you do so much in so little time? My trip to NYC last week is a great example: awesome food, theater and friends in a non-stop, 40-hour package.

First stop, The Spotted Pig. I discovered this place about a year ago on the television. April Bloomfield, the chef/owner, was featured on Iron Chef America and the secret ingredient was olive (yecch.) She beat Bobby Flay and was so creative I vowed to check out her place. The Spotted Pig is a gastropub in the West Village that fills up fast after work. We arrived about six o’clock on Friday and waited about 30 minutes for a table. The place buzzes; I even met a young man from London at the bar who told me he had flown to NYC for a meal with his old girlfriend at this favorite place.

We were seated upstairs, where there’s a dining area and second bar. As you can see, the colors and decor are vibrant. The food is a mixture of British public house fare and culinary imagination; you won’t feel bored reading the menu (which changes frequently.) All of us are cocktail drinkers, so I can’t comment on the beers, but I can recommend that you start with the shoestring fries. They’re fried in duck fat. Even a vegetarian will love them. Another must-have side dish is the roasted Brussels Sprouts, dripping in butter and with the right amount of charring. Brian and Laura had the Skate wing special which they both loved, while I had the beef tongue. I haven’t eaten tongue since my youth, but this was cosmic. As you can see from my lame photograph, the plate was beautiful and full of flavors. All I can tell you is don’t be afraid; my meal was so good I’m still talking about it: roasted beets, fingerling potatoes in duck fat, cream and dill over a silky meat. Wow. [Author's note: I did improve my eating habits during the rest of the trip.]

Next stop, Fuerza Bruta, a great theatrical performance that was thoroughly enjoyable if not explainable. Mixing elements of dance, rave, and performance art, we stood in the theater for about an hour and were repeatedly fascinated by the combinations of sound, light, texture and dance. While the still photographs don’t do it justice, they are better than my words. Rock on…

A bunch of us went to Rockit – a gastropub in Wrigleyville – last night. It was my idea, and I was pretty psyched about it. Sadly, the verdict was mixed, and even though I enjoyed my meal, it is not high on the list for a return trip.

The location is great, on Clark Street just north of Addison. That’s an easy walk for me, even in cold weather. Six of us had an 8:00p.m. reservation after cocktails. The inside of the place is dark, warm and pub-like, but there wasn’t anything that really stood out. It’s a young crowd that is loud.

The service was efficient and ample. Nothing mind-bending but, hey, it is a pub.

The food was what had me excited. More specifically, the menu looked great. This was pub food a level or two above your typical joint. Things like a lobster burger, truffle oil fries and lobster gnocchi catch your eye on the menu. The table ordered a variety, all the previously mentioned dishes and a side of mac & cheese to share. Like I said previously, the verdict was mixed.

My Rockit Burger – a Kobe beef patty with melted bried and medjool date aioli – was delicious. As it should have been for $19. It came with truffle oil fries. I found them full of flavor, although others at the table felt they were overpowering. My complaint is that, if you’re going to make truffle oil fries, you should use a Belgian frite – something that is crispy outside and very tender inside – instead of the straight-cut fries on my plate. The red onion brioche bun was delicious but a bit too buttery.

Laura had the lobster gnocchi and found it had a substantial portion of lobster meat. Unfortunately it was oily, and she didn’t finish it. Actually, Tom didn’t finish his, either.

Next up was the lobster burger. Lobster meat and shrimp paste. It sounded great but came out from the kitchen with a strong flavor (probably the shrimp paste.) Two at the table were wrapped to go.

So, the long and short of it is that Rockit failed to light our fuses despite the high prices. Great idea, great location, but the execution is not up to snuff.

I had lunch at Feed last Friday with my friend Paul. For those who aren’t interested in reading further, it totally rocked my world.

Feed is located in Humboldt Park, on the west side of Chicago, at the corner of California and Chicago Avenue. It’s not much more than a shack, with a counter between the short-order kitchen and a dining room of about twelve tables. The entire place reeks of 1958, right down to the jukebox and Formica-covered chrome tables. In addition to a few daily specials, a number of standards provide excellent munching.

Even though Feed specializes in chicken plates, I opted for the 1/3-pound burger. It’s served with fries and vinegar slaw, and I added bleu cheese. Not being able to control myself, I also ordered some collard greens. Big juicy burger on a Kaiser roll: check. Tender fries with a crispy exterior: check. Cole slaw with tart, light dressing: check. Southern-style collard greens: check. Oh, and the local root beer was creamy and flavorful.

Sadly, I skipped the one thing that I was excited about – red velvet cake. Feed makes it in-house, so I’m planning a return trip very soon. Watch this blog for a follow-up review.

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.