Alinea
Like some others, I always have a running list of restaurants locally that I'm eager to try out, but rarely do I have an irrepressible desire to travel to dine someplace. There are exceptions -- El Bulli for the scientific innovation, L'Arpege for exulting vegetables to their highest form, St John for quite the opposite reason -- but domestically only one restaurant has piqued my curiosity in recent years.
Alinea, in Chicago's Lincoln Park neighborhood, was the brain- and palate-child of chef Grant Achatz, a young maverick who had trained with the likes of Thomas Keller and Charlie Trotter, and by all accounts had taken that training and run with it to new culinary heights. For years I'd ignored the urge to go for one simple reason: It's in Chicago, and we are in San Francisco. Helluva commute.
But then, as our anniversary approached, I took stock. We had a certificate for a free night at a Kimpton hotel, ample airlines miles on United and an itch for some spontaneous travel. Why not?
One Monday in July I called and left a message requesting a reservation. The restaurant isn't open on Mondays, and so no one was there to take my call, but being forgetful as I am, I decided it was better to call and get it out of the way. Later that same morning, a press release hit the wires that young chef Achatz, age 33, had been diagnosed with stage-four squamous cell cancer of the mouth.
Still, the next day I received a call from a reservationist at Alinea, who quietly and politely offered seating options for the full 24-course tasting tour at 5 pm, or the shorter 12-course tasting menu at 9 pm. My inner glutton cried out for the 24-course groaner, but reason prevailed. After all, we would be on Pacific time, and a 9 pm seating was ideal for our needs. Besides, 24 courses, however small, is just too much.
Knowing what I did about the restaurant, I was not gravely concerned about Chef Achatz's not being in the kitchen. Food of this caliber and requiring such technical finesse is not made by one person alone, but by a well-trained team of artisans. I remained confident that Achatz's deft hand would remain present even in absentia.
In the cab en route to the restaurant, my excitement and anxiety grew. I felt jittery; butterflies fluttered in my stomach. We were about to consummate one of my greatest culinary wishes, a dining experience I sprung on my unwitting husband, who didn't know that we were going to this restaurant (or, for that matter, what it was) until 48 hours before. Would it live up to my expectations? Would it thrill and inspire DPaul as much as I hoped?
As we arrived at the restaurant, walking down a corridor ambiently lit in lavender, I was taken with a sense of serenity. Entering through the main door, we were met not by a host station and a bustling restaurant, but a lone man in a dark suit, standing there as if he were waiting for us all night. To our right we had a clear view into the kitchen. There were no clattering pans, flames flaring up from cooktops, harried cooks racing about. Each of the cooks were going about his or her business with methodical calm.
We were led upstairs and seated at a table large enough to seat six (ahem, by San Francisco standards). The deceptively large space was broken up into sections that lent a sense of intimacy and, yes, serenity. There were only five tables in our room; an adjacent room was similar, and there were other rooms as well.
And so it began. We gave ourselves over to our skilled army of waitstaff and the sommelier. We opted for the wine pairings, which is not only recommended but an obvious good idea. Who would have the hubris to think they could select a single bottle of wine to pair with what was about to come? We gladly accepted the assistance.
Chef Achatz has earned a reputation as a mad scientist chef for his use of high-tech equipment, custom-designed service pieces and otherworldly presentations. Rather, I think he's more of an inner child chef, playing with his (and, by extension, our) food to come up with creative, whimsical and sometimes outright silly presentations that simply never failed to delight.
What's more is that though the presentations were astonishing, the flavors were every bit as strong. Almost every ingredient seemed to be distilled to its purest essence and delivered in its most intensified form. Not every dish knocked it out of the park, but surely every one was at least a solid hit.
It is a sensual experience. Obviously his dishes delight the eyes and the palate, but there is a tactile element, and an almost over-the-top attention to olfactory stimulation. The only sense that was not overtly courted was hearing; though I suppose the novelty of being in a quiet restaurant was in itself a sensory experience.
I was also struck by how many dishes conveyed a sense of place. While Chef Achatz's presentations are rooted firmly in Japanese kaiseki, the flavors we tasted roamed the earth. We tasted the mountains of Italy, urban English comfort food, the moodiness of the Pacific Northwest and straight-up Midwestern bravado.
I also appreciated the rhythms expressed in the menu. Certain ingredients, like truffle, were used more than once to develop resonance between non-consecutive dishes. And then there was the key lime. Well.
Oh, and at the end they present you with a printed menu to remind you of everything you've just experienced. What a souvenir!
And so, without further ado, I present a blow-by-blow of our exceptional (count it, 15-course) meal at Alinea.
Tasting menu, September 22, 2007
All images from Alinea's site; none are exact representations of our dishes, but approximations for illustrative purposes only. Not all dishes we had have approximate images on the site. You'll have to use your imagination.
SURF CLAM
Paul Laurent Brut Champagne with Lillet and Aquavit
Aserver set a giant contact lens in front of each of us. We were eachhanded an egg-like bowl straddled by a fork upon which rested a pieceof clam. We were instructed to take the fork, eat the clam, rest the fork on the "monocle" and then drinkthe brilliant green soup in the bowl -- but not to set the bowl downbeforehand, lest it overturn. High-maintenance food, yes, but it forcedyou to pay attention!
The clam was unbelievably tender andmild. The nasturtium puree in the bowl was the essence of green --refreshing and silky and vegetal. Our bubbly aperitif offered drynessand tingle to highlight the flavors. Pure refreshment, and a delightfulkickoff.
AYU
Fukucho "Moon on the Water" Junmai Ginjo Sake, Hiroshima Prefecture
Ayuis also known as sweetfish, and the flesh of the fish is soft, mild andin fact a little sweet. Our server explained that often it can have amild watermelon flavor, which is why the chef paired it with that. Iloved the crisp-fried spine and skin, creating a pleasant contrast tothe soft flesh. But the highlight here was the sake; floral andfeminine, it tasted like the culinary equivalent of white silk underthe light of a full moon.
CONCORD GRAPE, sassafrass, fennel juice
Thefirst of the true "one-bite wonders" that pepper the meal, this came asa mysterious white globe in a glass of day-glo green liquid. As youtilt your head back to take it all in, you have to open up a littlewider than you expect, and are rewarded with an explosive flood ofconcord grape juice when the sassafrass globe bursts as you close yourmouth. It's complex, cool and all at once unexpected. But though Iremember the fennel flavor and the waxy, almost white-chocolate-liketexture of the globe, it somehow didn't taste like concord grape.Surprising, since I consider that a very strong flavor.
TOMATO, plum, sherry vinegar, hardwood smoke
Sommerhauser Oispiel Silvaner Kabinett, A. Steinmann, Franken 2005
Havingcleared a bit of space in front of us, servers laid down a wide, whitepillow, then upon that a white plate. The pillow was full of hardwoodsmoke, and delicately perforated so that occasional wafts of smokewould rise up as we put pressure on our plate to eat. On the plate werea smattering of diminutive, sushi-like preparations of tomato -- raw,sun-dried, roasted, pureed -- along with a few other ingredients. Ourserver explained that they were meant to be eaten in combination.Overall good, the presentation was the most memorable part here, thoughon occasion the smoke overpowered for me, and definitely obliteratedthe wine.
LOBSTER, sunchoke, orange, hyacinth vapor
Weinbach Pinot Gris "Cuvée Saint Catherine", Alsace 2005
Outof a small bowl protruded a long, steel pick, on the tip of which was aminiscule gelatinous cube topped with fennel blossom. Below, hunks ofluscious lobster meat in a buttery broth with wedges of clementine.Around, a wider bowl held hyacinth blossoms, over which the serverpoured hot water. We were instructed to eat the cube of pâte de fruitof orange to prepare our palate before eating the lobster.
OK, you know how I feel about orange,but this was an exceptional use of it. The pâte de fruit was intense,to be sure, and more than about a milligram of it would have been toomuch for me, but it did in fact do a spectacular job of cleansing thepalate in preparation. We were told the lobster was poached in butter,but I think (as with the surf clam and the upcoming short ribs) it musthave been cooked sous vide to achieve an amazingly buttery texture. Thefloral steam was a playful touch; and the wine stood dutifully by, likea loyal wife.
SHORT RIB
Franco Martinetti Monferrato Rosso "Sul Bric", Piemonte 1999
Beef,beer and nuts -- music to any Midwesterner's ears. I loved this dish. Amodest pile of gorgeously braised beef shortribs (again, sous vide?), adollop of broccoli puree and a smaller of (I think) mayonnaise lurkedunder a perfect square of gel made from Guinness beer. Sprinkled overwere roasted peanuts, pink peppercorns and fried broccoli florets. Thepresentation was ultra-mod, but the flavors were pure home.Spectacular. The wine pairing was another standout, a peculiarbarbera-cabernet blend that offered the bright and funky flavors of itsItalian roots, but the depth and structure of a great French wine. Thisis a wine I will seek out.
BLACK TRUFFLE explosion, romaine, parmesan
Anotherone-bite wonder: One perfect raviolo on a Chinese soup spoon. Thesecond it lands on your tongue, your mouth is flooded with intenselytruffled broth. I was instantly transported to Umbria, when we werethere in the autumn of 1999. It brought back imagery so crystal clearit almost made me weep.
I can only assume this was made as an Italian-inflected version of the Chinese xiaolongbao, or soup dumplings, where the dumplings are filled with frozen broth, which then thaws when cooked. Stunning and delicious.
KUROGE WAGYU, matsutake, cedar branch aroma
Château Petit-Village, Pomerol 2000
Smackin the middle of the menu, the most savory and probably my favoritedish of the night. A small bowl, the well of which was obscured withcedar branches, a single steel pick protruding. Pulling the pickstraight up revealed a gorgeous block of wagyu beef topped withmatsutake mushroom, lofted by a waft of woodsy perfume. It was thefasted trip from Italy to Washington state ever. The meat richlycrunched between my teeth, accentuated by the tendon-like mushroom.Even a great Pomerol could only barely make its presence known againstthis.
HOT POTATO
Aperfect example of Chef Achatz's custom dishware, this one-bite wondersuspended a hot hunk of potato over a chilled, truffled potato soup(ours didn't have the disc of truffle on top, but rather the trufflesintegrated into the soup below). When you pull the pick from the dish,the elements drop into the soup, and you drink it down like an oyster.Hot and cold, creamy and firm, earthy and buttery. Potatoes will neverbe the same to me.
LAMB
Clarendon Hills "Hickinbotham" Grenache, S. Australia 2004
Lamb. Peas. Mint. Curry. I didn't grow up in England, but I know an English personor two, and in my few travels there were always struck by theseflavors. Peas and mint are synergistic. Likewise mint and lamb. Andlamb and curry. And curry and peas. It's culinary math, gorgeouslyexecuted. Yet, like the beef and beer dish, I suspect any Englishmanwould weep for the simple flavors of home presented here.
TRANSPARENCY
Asugary crisp is bound between two metallic discs; the server carefullysets askew so it bobbled and weaves when he lets go. Playful! Fun!Dessert is happening!
I loved the pseudo binder-clip thingy,and the sugary crisp burst with raspberry flavor; the rose petals werepretty but not overly present on the palate. But this one crunchy,bright and sweet-tart bite gloriously announced the advent of dessert.Of course, this brought on mixed feelings for me. Dessert, yay! Aw,dessert already? Of course, the sensation of fullness loomed on thehorizon. But still. Already?
GUAVA, avocado, brie, key lime juice
La Spinetta Moscato d'Asti "Bricco Quaglia", Piemonte 2006
Likethe tomato dish, this was a quirky Dr Seuss-ian combination of shapesand textures and colors meant to combine into something more. Thetwo-tone avocado-coconut semifreddo played nicely with the brightlyacidic guava puree and foam. It was at this point that the two keylimes half-encased in shrink-wrap that had been set on our table fromthe beginning "for decoration" were ceremoniously pierced and juicedover our dish. Brilliant table magic.
I loved the moscato here --one I've had before. Just barely effervescent and far from overlysweet, it played exceptionally well with the tartness and richness ofthis dish.
HUCKLEBERRY
High-techcookery at its pinnacle. Achatz uses an "anti-grill", a wide griddlethat freezes on contact rather than heating. Much like a semifreddo,this custardy confection takes on a chewy texture (just as they say);pure genius. DPaul didn't love the herbal flavor that the parsley gave,which I understood; in fact, I thought it might have been cilantro,which would have been a killer for him for sure.
CHOCOLATE
Abbazia di Novacella Moscato Rosa "Praepostitus", Alto Adige 2006
What'sdessert without chocolate? This was undeniably the most Seussianpresentation of the night, with Pla-Doh-esque squiggles ofchile-infused chocolate and passionfruit gel; counterpoints came in theform of a lemongrass sorbet and an intensely salty shoyu (and, perhaps,salted plum?) paste. Aspirational and utterly over the top, I had mixedfeelings about this one, but appreciated it for its playful nature.
And then there was the wine. Moscato rosa, brilliant ruby and redolent with the aroma of rose petals. Well. Well. Well.
CARAMEL, meyer lemon, cinnamon perfume
Frankly,I wasn't expecting another dessert. They had taken our coffee/teaorders before the chocolate course, my stomach was bursting and I hadlong lost count of the dishes. But lo, here came one last treat -- afritter-like wad clinging to the end of a rustic cinnamon stick.Delicious, to be sure, but rich and a pure knockout at the end. If Iwrote the description of this dessert, though, it might have read,CINNAMON fritter, period. Was there lemon? Beats me.
DPaulfinished his meal with a single espresso, I with a wee pot of whitepeony tea. We rested and smiled, savored the cumulative flavors we hadjust experienced, began digesting both literally and figratively allthat we had just taken in. The meal lasted about two-and-a-half hours,less than I expected, yet we never felt rushed. Each course wasexpertly prepared and presented, and we had the opportunity to properlyexperience and ingest each course before facing a new sensorychallenge.
Not since French Laundryhave we had a meal that utterly turns our dining barometer on its ear;and to be frank, though French Laundry is, or was at the time, apinnacle of culinary excellence, Alinea deconstructed our everyexpectation of what dining is without ever relying too handily on thecrutch of obvious richness. At the end of the meal, I didn't feel likeI had just ingested a stick of butter, or excessive amounts of caviaror foie gras (come to think of it, exactly none of the above -- hey!).No, Alinea performed a different kind of alchemy. We were serveddeliciousness in its purely distilled form, recomposed and formatted inan aesthetically pleasing way.
The bar has been raised.
Alinea
1723 N Halsted, Chicago IL