Thursday, June 29, 2006

Another mediocre meal: Hemmingway's Bistro in Oak Park

I've put together a list of restaurants to try in Chicago: Alex is off at camp all summer, so this is the perfect time for Bernard and I to try new places. Alas, our luck so far has not been the best.

Last night's adventure was to Hemmingway's in Oak Park, a french bistro that's a quick jaunt from downtown and minutes from our own home. The restaurant has been open for several years, and I've heard good things about it from friends who live there. At first glance, it's a pretty enough place, located in The Write Inn, and across the street from the Hemmingway Museum.

You enter through the Inn, which is a bit unfortunate. The Inn at first glance appears cute/quaint, but a second look yields a slightly disturbing rest home/halfway house aesthetic. Tattered old posters, ratty plastic flowers, local event flyers are strewn on the floor.

The restaurant is pretty enough, and feels "french", all done up in pale yellows with a profusion of flowers. We're immediately shown to the worst table in the room, slammed up against a wall and right next to the waiters station, even though the there are only a few tables occupied. We ask for another table and are quickly accomodated. Restaurant is frigidly cold, to the point of uncomfortable, and I'm the kind of person who sleeps with the windows open in the winter.

The menu is classic french: onion soup, chicken grand mere, frites...all the basics and must haves are here. We have plenty of time to study the menu as it takes about 10 minutes for our waiter to find us. Service is sweet, but unpolished, to say the least. The Wednesday special was Coq Au Vin, which our waiter pronounced "Cock Oh Vin." That should probably have been a sign. Bernard's perked up when he saw Lapin Au Moutarde (rabbit in mustard sauce). He loves rabbit and it's rarely served in restaurants. When he asked the waiter about it, the waiter blithely informed us that "he really didn't know...he hadn't taken an order for rabbit in over four months." Bernard wisely avoided the rabbit.

Bernard ordered an endive salad and the mixed grill. I ordered a frisee salad and grilled lamb chops. All easy French classics. Wine list is short but nicely edited and very reasonably priced. We selected a lovely Paulliac for about $60. Pomme frites too: any french restaurant should be able to make great frites: the best frites we've ever had outside of France are at mk in Chicago.

Service was agonizingly slow, even though the restaurant wasn't busy. We polished off the entire bottle of wine waiting for our starters. When they did arrive, they were just ok. A classic frisee salad plops a warm poached egg atop the greens, so that there's a lovely warm/cool, soft/crunchy thing going on. Not this one: while the salad looked pretty, it must have been sitting in the kitchen too long...the poached egg was stone cold. Trust me: oozing cold egg yolk isn't pretty and doesn't taste good.

Another long wait. Entrees come. My lamb chops which were petite and pretty, were swimming in a muddy unrecognizable brown sauce. Bernard's Mixed Grill was equally odd. I ordered a glass of Haut Medoc, which helped wash it down.

While we didn't hate the meal, it was truly nothing special...the special part was trying to get the check from the waiter. We tried in vain to wave him down for over 15 minutes...it became kind of a fun game, however we were clearly in the lucky loser zone. Finally, I sent Bernard out to get the car, thinking that if it looked like we were going to eat and run, we'd get some attention. No such luck. After another ten minutes, I walked over the the bar and got the check myself.

Our rating: Bernard's food was marginally better than mine. Had the service been a bit more attentive, I might have even tried the place again. It's not a cheap place and there are much better restaurants in Oak Park, some within a block of this place. Le Coq Cafe, on Lake Street, just around the corner, is infinitely better. Don't avoid the place, but it's not worth a special trip.

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