Things that restaurants do that annoy the hell out of me...

In no particular order. Just some of the things that really bug us.

-Waiters forgetting to mention the water that's free. "Would you like to start with still or sparkling?" It's silly, and it tends to be done at the most expensive restaurants, that are charging enough already. Just give me the tap water and be done with it.
-Valet parking in Siberia. Smith & Wollensky is the worst here. I like the place, but if you park your car there, you may have to wait for 30 minutes while they sprint 8 blocks to get it. My favorite is that once we were there and they brought us the wrong car twice.
-Waiting forever for entrees that arrive tepid.
-Waiters who overenthusiastically pour wine. It's not sprint to the bottom of the bottle. We'll probably order that other bottle of wine anyway.
-Restaurants that give you an obnoxious reservation time (9:30 on a Sunday?) as their only available slot. You arrive at the appointed time and the restaurant is half empty.
-Bad bread. Don't they know that most people judge a restaurant by its bread basket?
-The lucky loser zone. Being given the worst table in a restaurant even though other tables are open. At Japonais we were escorted to a sliver of a table butting up against a huge cement pillar. No one, including our waiter could see us. It became so comical that eventually Bernard stool on the chair to see if anyone would notice. They didn't. At onesixty blue we arrived one night without a reservation and asked if any tables were available. A ten minute huddle ensued while they decided if they could fit us in. They could and then escorted us to the worst table in the house and THERE WAS NO ONE ELSE IN THE PLACE. And I like both Japonais and onesixty.
-Overpriced glasses of wine. Especially if it's not a generous pour. A $12 glass of Santa Margarhita Pino Grigio is no bargain, especially when it's the cheapest glass on the menu. The most egregious violators I've seen are The Capital Grille, 437 (the new Riccardo's), The Firehouse, and too many others to name. It's a bad trend.

An excursion to Boston

Alex, Bernard and I recently got back from a long weekend in Boston. We had been once before and the boys were unimpressed. I was determined to prove them wrong. The trip started with a whimper. It was the 3rd day of the liquid ban on the airlines. Getting through security was the easy part. Getting our luggage at Logan was the hard part. Baggage claim resembles pigs at a trough...pushing and shoving. No announcements, no indication of what carousel our luggage would arrive on. Hundreds of people pushing and shoving.

We eventually got our luggage and the car. On to the hotel. I thought we were staying at an old favorite, the cobble Plaza, a stately hotel in the heart of the Back Bay. Bernard drove right past it. He booked us into Copley Place, a Westin hotel down the street. Apparently he didn't realize that Copley is as common a name in Boston as Daley is in Chicago. Oh well. We at least got a drink in the Oak Bar at the Copley Plaza.

On our last trip we had tried a few haute places and were unimpressed. This time we asked the concierge to book us into Blue Ginger, of Ming Tsai and the Food Network fame. We were all booked for Sunday night, until we called for directions and discovered that they were closed on Sundays. So much for the Concierge.

Next was Locke Ober, that ancient restaurant off Beacon Hill. It's been spiffed up a bit in the 20th century, but feels as though you've walked into a time warp. Service is very "Age of Innocence." All Victorian and Edwardian formality with enough silver plate to cause temporary blindness. Their old-fashioned famed lobster stew is a delight and a cholesterol nightmare. But if you're going to go, it's the way to do it. Other food there is less successful: the things that they tried to "modernize" just don't work. It's fussy, overly complex and insanely overpriced. Wine list is an expensive joke. We enjoyed going just to say we did, but were happy to leave.

However, two amazing finds. Jumbo Seafoodand The Butcher Shop.

First, Jumbo Seafood. A downright seedy spot in Boston's miniscule Chinatown. It's known as a late night chef hangout...they actually let you choose your fish/crustacean from the tanks in the front. They then fish it out, toss it into a metal pail and weigh it. We got there late on a Saturday night and were seated next to a large birthday party, feeling no pain: we were having much fun eavesdropping, as they were arguing at the top of their lungs in Chinese, and we couldn't understand a word. Now and then, we heard "Heineken," "Survivor", "asshole," but otherwise they were completely unintelligible. They were so loud and drunk that our overworked and harassed waitress kept bringing us food we hadn't ordered and muttering "no charge" as she flung it on the table. We think that they might have been friends of the waitress and she was embarrassed at their behavior. No worries, as the food was fingerlickin' good. So good we went back three days in a row. Fish. Fish. Fish. It's the only thing to order. Just point and wait. Then fall in love.

The Butcher Shop. A rainy day at lunchtime in South Boston. Formerly dangerous, now practically suburban and definitely yuppie. A small jewel. Very European in feel and flair. A butcher shop disguised as a wine bar with outstanding food. Simple, pure and utterly delicious. Black slate covers the walls and tables. A long austere bar is the major seating area. Eclectic and well-thought out wine list paired with charming, savory food. A real neighborhood joint that serves outstanding food. I wish they could clone this place and put one in my neighborhood: I'd visit every day. Don't miss it.

One SixtyBlue and counting

Out of the blue, Bernard decided to make a reservation at OneSixtyBlue, on a Thursday night. It's always been one of our favorite spots: elegant surroundings, amazing food, intelligent service, cute chef. We had usually thought of One SixtyBlue for "special" occasions, like birthdays or father's day...but it's too good not to visit more often.

Designed by Adam Tihany, it's a truly elegant setting. Spare but not minimal; luxurious but not precious. You can't help but feel good just sitting there. Especially after the blazing hot week and general ennui of August. My other favorite thing about the place is that you can come in tres casual or tres chic--you'll fit in either way.


They're known for their innovative cheese menu, which they proffer at the beginning of the meal. You can start with cheese or end with cheese. The conceit is that is warmed in a little cast iron cocotte that's adorable and served with warm toasts, etc.

Wine list is expensive, eclectic and broad. A few relative bargains are hidden throughout, you need to look for them. This isn't the place to cheap out on the wine. Their wine service is professional: servers are very knowledgeable and helpful, regardless of your price range.

The folks at "Check Please" interviewed me a few months ago via phone about OneSixty. I was of course, tongue-tied, and sounded like a refugee from the Jerry Springer Show. I'd doubt you'll see me on that show anytime soon...it's a shame, 'cause onesixty is so special.

Favorite things about it: any fish dish, the sweetbreads, the cheese course, potato puree
Least favorite things: the prententious way they capitalize their name



1400 West Randolph (at Odgen)
Chicago, IL 60607
312.850.0303
onesixtyblue.com

Da Silvano: Italy's Finest in NYC

Da Silvano, NYC's celeb-happy, place to see and be seen spot for the last 30 years, is as good as I remember it. Located on one of the few broad sidewalks in NYC, Da Silvano is a little Tuscan oasis in the midst of the Village. You can have a good meal there even if you're not "someone" as long as you're prepared to pay for it.

It was our girl's trip to NYC. Having grown up in NY, I wanted to bring Jane and Diana to one of my favorite places. Da Silvano is certainly one of them. It's a quintessentially NYC spot while remaining steadfastly European. No hurry, no rush. Just good wine and good food.

We arrived after a leisurely walk around the mews of Washington Square to build up an appetite. It was a deserted hot Saturday afternoon, all the natives in the Hamptons, Connecticut or upstate. That's okay, we had the place to ourselves. The three of us grabbed a table outside of the Cantinetta (their bar next door) which was packed with cute Italians watching the World Cup. Anthony Bourdain was seated a table away too, so we even snagged a celebrity sighting, on a weekend when they are in scarce supply.

A glass of Prosecco later, all was right with the world. While the parade of NYC characters drifted by, we dug into some of their classics: Zucca di Fiori (zucchini blossoms filled with cheese), ensalata di rucola (an ethereal arugula salad—light, lemony and earthy. A summer delight). Then osso buco, gnocchi, seafood risotto...washed down with a lovely Super Tuscan (Summus I think). No hurries, no worries.

It's a special place. We usually hate sidewalk cafes in NY: they're noisy, dirty, and cramped in most cases. I could sit here forever.

Da Silvano
260 Sixth Ave., New York, NY 10014 
between Houston and Bleecker Sts. 
212-982-2343

Good Intentions Gone Awry

Amazing how easy it is to let the days go by...many posts planned, none executed.

Highlights of the last few weeks include jaunts to New York, Los Angeles, Santa Ynez Valley, Santa Barbara and Scottsdale.

New York: girls' trip with pals Diana and Jane. Da Silvano, Balthazar, Sparks Steak House, Pastis.

Los Angeles: La Cachette, Ago, Enoteca Drago, Mastro's

Santa Ynez Valley: Los Olivos Cafe, Bridlewood, Rusack, Beckmann, Brander, Foley vineyards.

Scottsdale: Bloom, Sassi, Mastro's.

Much more to come.

A night at the Opera?

Last night's excursion found us at Opera, a modern Chinese restaurant on South Wabash. I've heard about it for ages, read great reviews, so I was excited to go. Bernard wasn't as enthusiastic. "Why do a fancy Chinese restaurant blocks from Chinatown? We could have gone to Evergreen," he muttered. I was still optimistic. And had a seven pm reservation.

As are all of Jerry Kleiner's restaurants, Opera is a wild setting. Bordello meets Shanghai. Far East vs. Wild West. Deafening noise vs. delicate detail. Fringe and velvet abound. A former Paramount film repository, the building's got wonderful bones, with dramatically high ceilings. Intense colors, smells and sounds. I found it entertaining and stimulating; Bernard thought that it was right out of a Jacques Tati movie like "Jour de Fete." He was bewildered. He perked up when our our waitress arrived, a perky redhead right out of Central Casting.

Service was excellent, knowledgeable and efficient. Beautifully edited wine list, all surprisingly reasonably priced given the trend factor of the place. Even so, I stuck with Mai Tais..it just seemed like the thing to do.

Food was he said, she said. I loved it. Bernard tolerated it. I think he would have enjoyed the food more if the place wasn't so loud and the chairs so uncomfortable. Spring rolls, lobster Shu Mai, Peking Duck (their take on it is outstanding, instead of the soup course, which is traditional, they do a noodle stir fry, that's vaguely Thai, but completely delicious), Crystal Prawns, and Sesame Noodles. All classics in every Chinese joint everywhere, yet these were all novel recreations without becoming unrecognizable.

The only off note was when the adjoining table was served a fabulous whole fried Red Snapper. It looked amazing. We asked our waitress what it was, since we hadn't remembered anything like that on the menu, and she told us that this group had special ordered it beforehand and that there was only one. One Red Snapper? One? How odd. Bernard was slightly peeved and a little jealous.

Will we go back? I will, and when my 15 year old, Alex, is back from his summer away, I'll definitely take him. He'll think the atmosphere a bit much, but the cute girls will more than make up for that. I know he'll love the food. Maybe we'll go when Bernard is out of town. We'll preorder the snapper, I think.

Opera
1301 S. Wabash (on the corner of 13th and Wabash)
Chicago, IL 60605
312.461.0161
www.opera-chicago.com

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.