Lady T

"Geriatric filberts." IRKKK. SSPFFF. GACK. Superior stuff as always, ma'am...but I'm not gonna be able to look at a kid with a bottle for a week without feeling sorry for him/her.

Back in late January of this year, a group of Chicago eGulletarians went to the then-newly-opened Opera, down on Wabash at the far southern end of the Loop. By the grace of Ed Schoenfeld (cued, I think I recall, by our own Suvir Saran), we were given the tour, treated like visiting royalty by Jerry Kleiner and cooked for -- wondrously! -- by Chef Paul Wildermuth. We talked, at delighted length, to everybody who came near us. We asked approximately 7,623 questions. We took pictures of everything we ate. We closed the place just before midnight...but nobody got impatient, nobody asked us to pipe down, and nobody threw us out because they wanted to clear up and go home. Phenomenal patience and courtesy and professionalism? Absolutely. But I think they also shared the obvious pleasure we took in the food, the time, and the place, in a way that most double-shifting, stress-hardened cadres of stove warriors aren't always able to do.

Heh. Looks like the everyday house wines at my place are gonna be domestic for the back end of 2003. Nuts. Just when the availability and prices were taking me into more international waters... Ah well.

I'm curious, Smarmotron: what do you do with/for/about vegetables with a sizable sugar component, like Vidalia onions or yams?

I frankly would rather drink brut Freixenet than some of the recent one-dimensional fizzy gunch with French labels. But on most days I'd rather spend a few more $$, drink Veuve Cliquot, and by damn knowthat I and/or my guests are getting the good stuff.

(I do in fact take flowers if I know the host likes to drink gunch.) My most frequent guest gift is Champagne if I'm going to do a beverage at all; it's versatile, and the results will be happy whether they open it at the gathering or not. Generally I don't bring along anything high-end or exotic unless (1) the host specifically asks me to pair for a particular course or (2) the host is a very close friend whose socks I wish to knock off with some neat discovery s/he hasn't ever tasted.

I like hot, freshly made pizza, with good cheese, sauce, and toppings. Period. Quibbling about thickness is for tourists. *Ducking to avoid the slings and arrows of outraged crust partisans*

"I think my opinion of Mr. Trotter has changed." Why? How many high-end chefs would respond differently, confronted with a six-month short-timer apparently doing the same thing many, many others had done before him: get his feet slightly damp in a famous kitchen, bail, and add the kitchen's name to his resume? How, strictly on the evidence, could Trotter have known? If anything, I think Chef Achatz is about to find out exactly how it feels to walk in those shoes: with the James Beard Award imprimatur, all the young short-timer opportunists are going to come flocking to his kitchen now.

Gossipy, and slightly tangential from the main topic, but still Lagasse-centered: did I not hear that he and Wife No. 3 are about to have or have just had a young'un? Best wishes if true...

It's always great to see something like that from an insider's point of view. Thanks!

You can have my vote, that's for sure. Much as I love stinky cheeses, even I back away when something's that off.

To extend this a bit, geographically: I saw a wine list entry over the weekend at NoMI in Chicago for a red from the Bekaa Valley in Lebanon. It wasn't offered by the glass, and the meal didn't really offer an opportunity to sample it. Anybody had wines from the area? Any good?

Now that's a new one on me...I've been to any number of restaurants in the largest Chicago gay neighborhood (nicknamed "Boys' Town", on the North Side), but I can't -- for the life of me -- recall any that cater only and exclusively to that clientele. For that matter, I've never seen any restaurant turf out a customer who (a) had a reservation (if that was required), (b) showed up on time, ( c ) behaved nicely, (d) spent lots of $$$, and (e) tipped well. I have a real problem imagining any restaurant in these spooky economic times who would turn away a customer who wanted to spend some dough during working hours. How naive am I? Or am I simply observing what FG saw as the "real Midwestern value system", having been born and raised here in Chicago?

Sorry. I missed the part where you weren't staying in Evanston anymore. Just reviewed the whole thread. At 7:30 p.m., you should be able to get to Trio, even from downtown Chicago, in 40 to 45 minutes.

You also might want to check out a place called Campagnola on Chicago Avenue in Evanston; ditto the Bluestone Cafe, in northwest Evanston on Central Street. The latter spot gets an exceptionally lively young crowd, and it gets rowdier the later the evening grows. The former is great for won't-break-the-bank Italian, and the latter is American eclectic (nothing glorious, won't offend anybody). Decent by-the-glass wine lists at both spots. Neither one can really hold a candle to Trio in terms of Food As Great Art -- but they are other options.

Wow. Whoa. Interesting. I've helped other people throw their parties at their homes, or at other people's homes. I have a friend to whom I semi-regularly give cooking lessons, by cooking supper at her apartment, also (she buys any necessary equipment beforehand, and I provide the produce; this is an extremely new home cook). I host small parties of friends at restaurants, on occasion. I've never felt the need -- or thought I had the right! -- to twist an acquaintance's arm to let me host my gathering at their home. New concept for me; not one I think I'm going to try out any time soon, though.

Nero -- I admit a momentary curiosity: what in Hell did he eat? And did he at least cook it himself, and make enough for you? Glad for you that he's history, though.

Somebody please correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't believe jackets are required at Topolobampo -- might high-end Mexican be of interest to you at all, Tommy? Trotter's is wonderful. So is Tru. So is Trio. Any of the three is worth the minor sartorial discomfort of wearing a jacket: thus say male companions with whom I dined in those places, and I believe them. I second Maggie's notion, by the by: if you'd care for some company, I believe that could be arranged with some Chicago eGullet folks...? Let us know details if you're so inclined.

In summer, juiced fresh: orange, mango (from the Hispanic market near my home), and peach (particularly white Michigan peaches, from the farmer's market). Heavenly. Leftovers, if any, make the most magnificent mimosas (combined with appropriate Champagne/sparkling wine) one can imagine. I'm waiting for June...

God bless 'em. God keep 'em. Preferably far away from me.

I like pie.

No problem. I'll bring extra bagels and nobody has to do anything but toast, and enjoy. Shall I also bring some Veuve, so we can toast the toasted bagels?

H'm. Salt, fat, sugar (massive amount, in the catsup), more salt, and more fat. Sounds about right.

I like to finish a steak with a bit of shallot butter -- but I like to think that if I've done the cooking and seasoning job right in the kitchen, I won't need much of anything more on the plate. Bearnaise is wonderful, but I find it a tad bit too rich sometimes.

All the way back in the merrie old days, it was dangerous to drink the water -- and cider contains trace nutrients and fructose, along with a lower alcohol level than wine and the stronger distilled beverages.