m.henrietta, Chicago IL

Seeing as vacation was too short – as it almost invariably always is – our final day in Chicago would be restricted to only breakfast before beginning the drive back to Toledo and with my plans including a return to Columbus after dropping mother and aunt off I knew I wanted something hearty to last me through the day – a desire I had little doubt would be fulfilled by m.henrietta, the sister restaurant of one of my favorite brunches of all time. Featuring the same concept as its older sibling (local, seasonal, fresh, and organic) but reportedly with shorter lines and plenty of inexpensive/free parking just off the Loyola campus our arrival at m.henrietta would be surprisingly early despite my long morning run and just as promised we walked through the front door to find the restaurant approximately 1/2 full at 8:30am.

With the sun shining through large picture windows and the space decorated quite similarly to its North Clark sibling we were greeted shortly after entering the restaurant by a young woman who invited us to taste some samples – a blueberry poppyseed muffin and a slice of chocolate pound cake both still warm and tasty – prior to being led to our table where another young lady named Katie would take over again welcoming us and subsequently filling waters while handing us menus and taking drink orders. With mannerisms a bit rushed as it appeared she was the only server currently staffing the dining room we were invited to “take our time – and check out the bakery case” as she stepped away.

With the menu largely similar to that at m.henry yet featuring several seasonal variations it would not take us long to decide on our selections and despite the staffing issues Katie would return within moments carrying two coffees – a nutty blend by Metropolis – plus my aunt’s orange juice and when told we were ready to order she smiled stating “all the best stuff – great choices” before again returning to the front and subsequently returning less than ten minutes later with not only the first of many perfectly timed coffee refills, but also with a small order of the house-signature “amazing breakfast bread pudding” – a dish we’d experienced once prior at m.henry but this time perhaps even better with the brioche more dense and buttery, the custard sweeter, and the compliment of fruit a bit less overwhelming of the notes of cinnamon and vanilla.

Making short work of the bread pudding and with the restaurant now beginning to fill up our primary plates would arrive perhaps twenty-five minutes after we entered the restaurant and with each of us opting for sweets over savories the selections were exactly what I’d hoped for beginning first with my aunt’s selection of the daily special “Peach Blueberry French Toast,” a two-slice stack of thick cut golden brioche with a lovely exterior crunch and custard soft interior stuffed with (and subsequently topped with) warm peaches, whole blueberries, vanilla crème, brown sugar, and toasted oats that was every bit as good as the bread pudding and perhaps even better given the textural variation created by the oats.

Unable to get enough of the henry/henrietta family brioche and ever a fan of lemon in all forms my mother’s selection for the morning was another French Toast that would prove every bit as lovely as my aunt’s, but this time lacking the oats and instead described as “Lemon raspberry brioche french toast” served with two slices of dense and crispy Applewood smoked bacon. With the bread this time stacked three high and dusted in powdered sugar plus a dollop of warm house made lemon curd and sweet raspberry coulis I have to admit that although I am not a fan of lemon in general I quite liked the mildness of this presentation while my mother deemed it her favorite breakfast of the trip by far.

With the French Toast as good as our previous visit my selection for the morning would be a seasonal variation of another dish we’d tasted before – the appropriately named “bliss cakes,” this time presented as two light and fluffy hotcakes layered with warm blackberries, vanilla mascarpone cream and topped similarly to my aunt’s French Toast with a brown sugar and oat crust with the whole stack floating in a pool of sweetened blackberry reduction that negated any need for syrup but instead left me wishing for one more cake or perhaps a slice of that brioche to soak up every last drop.

With the restaurant now full (and a few more servers circulating) Katie again returned to clear our plates and asking us if there was anything else we’d like I requested a “to go” cup for my coffee along with the check – a wish that was happily granted and with the bill paid we made our way to the streets less than fifty minutes after entering m.henrietta all the happier for having visited and wishing for the umpteenth time that a place even half this good existed in Northwest or Central Ohio.

Kanela Breakfast Club, Chicago IL

When going for brunch in Chicago N. Clark St. is generally a good call – M. Henry, Over Easy, Orange, Ann Sather, Big Jones…let’s just say Lakeview and Andersonville aren’t hurting for their eggs, pancakes, and bacon – but having already been to the big names and wanting an eclectic weekday breakfast experience this visit to Chicago would bring us to a relative newcomer – the Greek offerings of Kanela Breakfast Club. Owned and operated by Chris Lardakis and featuring both name and theme inspired by his upbringing and a love of cinnamon I’ll admit I’d heard mixed reviews of both the food and service at Kanela, but in the end the menu and coffee sourcing won me over and with the early opening hour of 7:00am both the location and time matched our day’s agenda perfectly.

Arriving early with street parking plenty available we made our way to the surprisingly large café after a drive past Wrigley and given the early hour the space was empty save for two tables – one with patrons and one with Lardakis himself sitting and chatting with staff as they prepared for the day’s service. Greeted pleasantly by our server, Tara S. at the door we were asked where we’d like to sit and with a four top in the middle of the room selected we sat – two of us in sturdy wood chairs and one in the booth. With the restaurant largely modern (think exposed brick, wood, tile) yet restrained save for a couple of crystal chandeliers and a small coffee bar to the right we were next presented with menus, offered coffee, and left to make decisions while light pop music played overhead.

With a strong cup from Julius Meinl with caramel notes and a satin finish brewed quickly (and refilled consistently without need for request throughout our meal) Tara would return to take our orders and to give us her opinions on what dishes she considers must haves. Inquiring as to whether two appetizers and three entrees would be too much she informed us that it would “probably be fine” as the chef focuses more on quality than quantity – but that this would be “quite a bit of food.” With orders placed we again sat back and chatted while Lardakis returned to the kitchen and Tara took to writing the daily specials on the chalkboard.

With the restaurant largely empty it would be perhaps ten minutes before our first dishes would arrive – in this case a favorite of both my aunt and myself in the form of “monkey bread” that really wasn’t much like pull-apart monkey bread at all, but rather a dense muffin loaded with smooth pureed banana, notes of cinnamon and walnuts, and a nearly soufflé-like top with a slightly gooey crumb. Served warm it was excellent, but at $4 perhaps a bit overpriced for a muffin.

Moving next to the dish recommended strongly by our server, my mother’s favorite item of the meal was the Bougatsa. At $4 and essentially the same size/weight as the monkey bread this flat pastry featured dainty crisp phyllo encompassing what was described as “lemon-honey custard” but what instead tasted almost like meyer lemon curd given its density and subdued sweetness. Complimented with fresh strawberries and a wisp of whipped cream it truly was tasty, though getting more than a bite proved somewhat daunting as mom seemed to be guarding it with fork and knife.

With appetites primed and plates cleared as coffee was refilled once again it would be a short while before our main courses would arrive and with the ladies selecting sweets I opted instead to go savory for the second morning in a row by selecting the duck confit hash with sunny side eggs, charred scallions, and a sauce described as orange truffle vinaigrette. Served not really as “duck confit hash” but rather as duck confit + hash, the fowl itself was excellent and paired nicely with the acidic yet earthy sauce while the potatoes were buttery, loaded with herbs, and slightly smoky from the inclusion of the crispy scallions. Completing the plate with two nicely prepared eggs topped with just a drizzle of olive oil all the flavors married nicely while a side of 9-grain toast with butter and strawberry jam proved quite handy for sopping up the runny egg and vinaigrette.

Having already established my mother’s love for lemon her selection of the Kanela French Toast with apricot and sweet lemon crème fraiche came as no surprise and while I’m traditionally not a fan of citrus I personally thought this the best dish of the morning largely because the golden brioche with a pillowy custard center was so exquisitely done that it may rank amongst the best textured French Toasts of all time. While certainly never one to shy away from a breakfast too sweet, an additional surprise in the Kanela French Toast was the light accents of the accoutrements – the crème only mildly kissed with lemon and the apricot compote a smear on the plate. Surely the addition of pure maple syrup didn’t hurt, but it also wasn’t necessary to make this dish shine.

For my aunt’s selection she surprisingly selected what has seemingly become Kanela’s most highly acclaimed dish – the Bacon Waffle with Chocolate Bacon, Bourbon Caramel, and Bacon Dust – and like the French Toast it was quite impressive albeit a little bit heavy handed. Beginning first with the bacon riddled waffle, it was a nice balance of sweet and savory with the bacon largely serving as exclamation points of flavor in the golden dough. Topped with grated bacon and two strips of slightly chewy pork dipped in chocolate and resting above drizzles of salty caramel and bitter chocolate I actually think the dish may have been better off without the bacon dust if only to mellow the salinity – but then again, the chocolate did a nice job of creating a balance so perhaps simply drizzling a bit of chocolate on the waffle itself would have helped instead as the drizzle on the plate simply wasn’t enough to account for the whole waffle.

With dishes cleaned and coffee again refilled Tara asked if there was anything else we’d like and declining we were given the check followed by a quick visit from the chef to ask us how everything had been. With our compliments (and the bill) paid we made our way to the sunny streets just about one hour after our arrival and with that proceeded to our noon tour of the Rookery not full, but content and glad to see that North Clark Street’s embarrassment of Brunch riches has grown by one.

Longman & Eagle, Chicago IL

With our early time of arrival noted and my love of Chicago’s Breakfast/Brunch scene well established the first breakfast (following appetizers from Doughnut Vault) of the trip would be of the Michelin Starred Variety – the daily brunch Service at Logan Square hipster staple Longman & Eagle. Helmed by Chef Jared Wentworth and described with nearly every ubiquitous foodie buzzword from “Gastro-Pub” to “farm to table” to “nose to tail” yet continually garnering great reviews from all who’d been there I have to admit that going in I was a skeptic, but at the same time the menu looked great and by going early on a weekday I figured we could avoid the scene – a scene we almost avoided twice because despite the use of a googlemaps we still drove right past the scantily marked restaurant twice before noting the simple “&” over the door and finding a parking space just outside.

With the weather mild and the doors open as tunes from Robert Johnston and Charlie Parker flowed into the streets we made our into the restaurant to find it largely empty – only two tables filled in the whole space – and wondering if they were even open for business yet we were greeted warmly first by the bartender and then by our waitress, a young lady named Gina who suggested we sit wherever we like. With the scent of pork heavy in the air and the bartender mixing up a whisky sour for one of the ladies at the table nearest the back door we opted for a nicely lit spot closer to the front and navigating heavily wooded and unfinished brick room there was unquestionably a slightly artificial feel to the space, but at the same time it wasn’t so much as to make it feel forced.

Seated now with menus in hand and water filled adult beverages were offered and declined with myself and my mother opting for coffee (Metropolis) that unfortunately reached empty far too many times for a restaurant so unpopulated while my aunt opted for Orange Juice – at $3 actually a bargain compared to other breakfasts in Chicago. With the menu rather short decisions were made and within five minutes of seating our orders were placed allowing us to sit back, relax, and listen to everything from slave-era chants to late 40s big band while we waited.

With a few more folks trickling in, mostly young men opting to sit at the bar and booze over breakfast, our first dish to arrive would be an appetizer shared by all and despite my mother’s insistence that she dislikes scones this was the second time in a row (the last at Bouchon) that she exclaimed the words “Best Scone Ever” as she took a bite of the house-made Cinnamon, Honey, and Apricot Scone topped with Clotted Cream. Beginning first with the scone itself – a heterogeneous biscuit dotted with pockets of butter, sugar, and dried apricots – it was marvelous, but what truly put this scone on another level was the smear of clotted cream and an ample drizzle of apricot tinged honey.

With the scone devoured and our coffees finally receiving a refill at my request it would be another short wait before our main courses would arrive and when they did each looked wonderful but only one actually turned out to be so. Beginning first with mine; Croque Madame with Local Ham, Gruyere, Mornay Sauce, and Duck Egg was overall quite good – a prototype in its ingredients and balance but foiled slightly by the country style bread which was far too crunchy at first but became more pliable with the addition of some of the creamy Mornay served alongside and the rupture of the salted quivering egg. Served with skillet potatoes that were fine but nothing to write home about this was a competent dish, but not on par with other croques I’ve had (Michelin Starred or not.)

Moving next to my mother’s choice, Fried Chicken, Waffles, Sweet Potato & Pork Belly Hash, Vermont Maple Syrup – let’s just say the waffle was good and the hash was great while the chicken was…well…even a bit too undercooked for my tastes and damned near raw compared to my mother’s preferences. Beginning first with the waffle – thicker than generally served with chicken but fluffy and full of yeasty vanilla tones that went great with the syrup. Next up, the hash – smoky and sweet, a touch of nutmeg and perfectly prepared. Finally, the chicken – great coating and crunch, but pink flesh and skin so fatty that it was actually wet – a disappointment that my mother (who “doesn’t like to make a scene”) refused to mention, but stated just last week was some of the worst fried chicken she has ever eaten.

Last but not least my aunt selected the Bananas Foster French Toast with Banana Pudding, Bourbon Caramel Sauce, and Goat Cheese Semifreddo – a dish oddly similar to the dessert she’d order that evening at Mindy’s Hot Chocolate, but actually even better. Featuring two thick slices of golden brioche with a supple interior (note to L&E, use this on the Croque) and an eggy custard wash resting in a puddle of warm pureed bananas and topped with savory cream cheese frosting plus boozy salted caramel this was the sort of sweet breakfast I’d have expected from a place like Bongo Room or M.Henry but definitely not from a gastropub – it was shockingly sweet yet surprisingly balanced and while dessert worthy also rather light on the stomach given the fluffy nature of the bread.

Again having to request a refill, this time by raising my hand like a child in elementary school, Gina stopped by to inquire if we were “all finished” and entirely ignoring the mostly uneaten pink chicken proceeded to collect our plates before filling the coffee and leaving the tab. With the bill paid and a modest (undeserved) tip left it was exactly one hour after we entered the Longman & Eagle that we left and all things being equal I rather doubt I’ll ever be back – though I will admit looking at the dessert menu and having experienced the brunch the team does seem to have some skills with the sweet stuff.

Doughnut Vault, Black Dog Gelato, Alliance Bakery, Hot Chocolate, Atwood Cafe Chicago IL

Having just returned from Boston a week earlier the turnaround time for yet another trip to the Windy City was short, but with NEXT reservations and a trip to the Rookery as well as Wright’s Home, Studio, and Walking Tour of Oak Park as the impetus for the trip and two of my very favorite people coming along for the ride I knew it would be a whirlwind of great memories. As the reigning champion on my list of favorite Breakfast/Brunch cities and resting near the apex of best dining cities overall the question of where to eat was harder than it should have been, but after much debate three breakfasts, two lunches, and two dinners made the final cut along with a number of snacks in between.

Having gotten up at my traditional “insane” hour according to my mother for a nice run our departure from her home in Northwest Ohio would precede sunrise by a few hours and making great time our arrival to Chicago would not only beat the rush hour traffic, but also leave us waiting outside our first stop before the doors opened…in a line of about ten that would subsequently grow to thirty or more at a relative newcomer to the local food scene; The Doughnut Vault.

Located in a doorway off North Franklin and open from “Tuesdays-Friday starting at 8:30am until we run out. And Saturdays at 9:30am until we run out” The Doughnut Vault is the brainchild of Brendan Sodikoff who also owns Chicago’s “Gilt Bar” (and a pretty impressive resume including time with Keller and Ducasse) and although there have been some detractors calling his success yet another food fad, it is hard to argue with lines greater than twenty deep ever since opening in April and having never been “wowed” by a doughnut I took my place in queue as we watched the metermaids do their thing.

With the line growing slowly the doors would open at 9:30 on the dot and as mostly locals and regulars stood at the front it would be no time at all before we found ourselves before a nice young woman dancing to cheesy 80s music and with a quick exchange of “What can I get you?”, “One of each.”, “Good choice - $14, cash only.” we were on the street again with a big box of doughnuts including a Gingerbread Stack, Old Fashioned Buttermilk, Vanilla Glazed, Chocolate Glazed, and Pistachio Glazed – all still warm – and all shockingly delicious despite my previous convictions about fried dough.

Beginning first with the gingerbread stack – three “smaller” doughnuts (IE a normal sized doughnut like you might get from Dunkin) – these were the heaviest of the quintet and but despite the cakey texture they were anything but oily, instead similar to a coffee cake and loaded with spicy notes, cinnamon, and sugar. Moving next to the Buttermilk – another dense cakelike doughnut, smaller (and cheaper) than the others – something like a cruller but with tangy notes, a melt-in-the-mouth glaze, and not a bit of greasiness. Last but not least – the glazed trio – each at least twice the size of a “normal” doughnut yet nearly as light as a glazed Krispy Kreme with a wispy yeasty interior contrasting with a slightly crisp sugary shell first coated in the same glaze as the buttermilk but then with an additional layer of flavoring – each delectable but most impressive the Pistachio with subtle smoky notes and bits of crushed nut for texture; easily on par with the best baked breakfast goods I’ve had in Chicago and well worth both the $3 and getting out of bed early enough to avoid the line.

With sightseeing consuming much of our first day a second snack stop on this trip to Chicago was another relative newcomer to the scene – this time in the frozen variety from Black Dog Gelato, a small shop in the Ukrainian Village that wasn’t necessarily “on our way back” from Oak Park, but a relatively short detour hopefully well worth it for those of us with an eye for esoteric ice cream flavors. Oft raved by local gourmands and sourced by local chefs for their dessert menus it was with luck that we not only found Black Dog to be unbusy, but also that we found free parking right next door.

With twelve flavors on rotation and three young ladies working on cookies and house-whipped cream in the back it was without delay that we were greeted and with The Shins playing overhead our smiley server suggested to “let me know if there’s anything you’d like to taste” before we even made it to the counter; and taste we did, making it through ten of the flavors before we finally decided to order three small ($4.75) cups with two flavors in each and a clear predilection for sweet meets savory.

Beginning with the one flop, at least to me, Mexican Hot Chocolate was simply one of those flavors that worked as a small bite but when served in quantity proved to be not only overwhelming but damned hot. Creamy and textural to be sure it was just too much on its own, but vastly improved when mixed with Salted Peanut – a mellow and smooth flavor somewhat akin to the inside of a peanut butter cup but far more buttery. Moving on to “safer” but delectable options, Butterscotch Bourbon Pecan and Pistachio would both taste very much like their namesake ingredients with the Butterscotch tasting largely like a southern-style pecan pie rendered into a silky dense gelato. Finally, amongst the more interesting and challenging flavors, Goat Cheese-Cashew Caramel and Sesame Fig Chocolate Chip would prove most delightful – particularly the sesame fig chocolate combination which was equal parts sweet and savory, smooth and crunchy but a bit less dense than I’d have expected from gelato – perhaps a good thing considering the amount of eating we did on this trip, but overall enough to make me say I appreciate what Black Dog is doing but I wouldn’t go out of my way for it at such a high price point.

For our finally mid-day bite in Chicago – this one on day two – we opted for an older member of the culinary scene that I’d actually walked into once prior during the Renegade Art Fair but neglected to buy from due to the line; Wicker Park’s own Alliance Bakery. Again scoring free parking and making our way to the shop with ease as hipsters and families alike dined on the sunny patio a stop at the window was mandatory first simply to witness the masterful cakes ranging from Green Eggs n’ Ham to Macaron towers to three tiered wedding cakes.

With the doors open letting in a cool breeze (and letting out the wonderful smells of butter and vanilla) we next made our way in to see what Chef Peter Rios and a team of youngsters (both in the kitchen and at the counter) had on display and after a few tough decisions we emerged from the shop to enjoy our choices on the patio.

Beginning first with the French classics, my mother selected two Macarons – one Blueberry Cheesecake and the other Passion fruit chocolate – both textbook in texture with a crackling shell giving way to lovely filling, but the Passion fruit Chocolate so cloyingly sweet that between two of us the $2 cookie went unfinished. Thankfully the Blueberry Cheesecake fared much better.

Moving next to two of the standards by which I judge a bakery my aunt’s and my selection were a Red Velvet Cupcake and the Dulce de Leche Bread Pudding. Beginning first with the cupcake, a $3.50 selection with good notes of cocoa and a tangy cream cheese frosting started out with a good base, but was unfortunately a bit dry – so much so that when my aunt took a bite the back half fell off landing directly on her chest; a comedic event to be sure, but not exactly the way a cupcake should be remembered. Moving next to the Bread Pudding which was served in a small tin topped with a sugar lacquered strawberry and powdered – it was dense and it was sweet, no more and no less but thankfully only $2.50.

With sightseeing, breakfasts, lunches, snacks and bites shared with the family while dinners were either with friends (NEXT) or flying solo (Avenues,) both nights of the trip would see me reconvene with my mother and aunt after dinner for dessert – a sweet ending to an evening pizza for them and a third or fourth bit of indulgence for myself (but who’s counting?) – and on the first night our target after drinks and bites at Aviary would be a place my aunt had always wanted to visit and a place that had for too long flown under my radar; Mindy Segal’s newly renamed “Mindy’s Hot Chocolate” on North Damen.

Described by optimists as an upscale café with great desserts and by detractors as an “overpriced urban bistro” with savories lagging far behind the sweets our trip to the four time Beard Award Nominee’s flagship admittedly came with a bit of warning – namely that the place can be wildly inconsistent, loud, and that after 9:00pm seating could be tricky – and after once again finding free parking (clearly our lucky day) we walked through the front doors to find two out of three to be true instantaneously; the place was deafening and our options for seating included the lounge or “about an hour for a table.”

With a quick glance to the ladies and a brief browsing of the depleted pastry case we elected for the lounge not only because it seemed quite and comfortable, but also because the clock was pushing 10:00pm and we’d not yet even checked into our hotel and without hesitation we were led to a cozy corner with long leather benches and appropriately low lying tables complete with silverware, candles, and water glasses that were filled without hesitation. Greeted next by our server, Laura K, we were asked if we’d ever visited before and on stating we had not she explained to us that each “dessert” was generally composed of two to three different items and we were left to decide – a process that took no time at all as we’d already researched the online menu en route to Chicago.

With orders placed and service appropriate but largely separated from the lounge throughout the evening the first item to arrive was a prerequisite given the restaurant’s name and although not quite as transcendent as that at Jacques Genin or LA Burdick the Black and Tan Hot Chocolate made of 1/3 hot fudge and 2/3 medium cocoa hot chocolate was certainly rich, creamy, and entirely too much for one person (especially after a full day of eating.) Sharing it around the three of us it was interesting to hear different impressions – all positive, but each catching different notes in the chocolate from vanilla to honey to fruit.

Moving on to the proper desserts – each priced at $11 – my mother’s choice was the restaurant’s signature “Chocolate #1(64%)” featuring a warm chocolate soufflé tart topped with salted caramel ice cream and a tuille of housemade pretzel; an exercise in balance and every bit worthy of its acclaim. Beginning first with the tart – hot, molten, and bitter – sure the concept of a lava cake is played, but as long as it made with great care and better chocolate it really doesn’t matter, especially when it is matched with extra sweet yet subtly saline ice cream and a crunchy salty sourdough pretzel for texture.

Moving on to my dessert, a seasonal option titled “My Honey Pie” and featuring “warm and luscious honey pie with honey-roasted peanuts, honey caramel, berry-rose syrup, graham cracker and ‘PB&J’ Ice Cream Sandwich this dish was another winner, but a case where one less ingredient could have been more. Beginning first with the pie – I love honey, I love peanuts, and I love caramel so it is needless to say that the warm gooey amalgam poured inside a thick buttery graham cracker shell had ‘had me at hello’ even before Segal crash landed a peanut butter and grape jelly ice cream sandwich directly into it. Already with a lot going on – fruit, honey, sweet, savory, hot, cold, gooey, and crunchy – the unfortunate aspect of this dish was not knowing when to quit, specifically in reference to the cloyingly sweet syrup whose perfume did nothing but distract from the pie’s nuance even though it was present in only a small quantity.

For the final dessert, my aunt’s (and the one I’d have ordered had she not,) “O’Dan-A-Banana” featuring a ‘nilla puddin’ icebox cake with ‘nilla wafers, cocoa nib ganache, vanilla bean pudding, bananas foster sauce, and a chocolate phosphate was everything I’d hoped for when planning to visit Hot Chocolate and then some. Beginning first with the phosphate – it was a textbook old school chocolate soda with a bit of extra thickness from the cream and although sweet the slight sour from the phosphate proved a perfect foil to the other half of the plate; a cake that would have been more appropriately described as a horizontal mille-feuille with alternating layers of thick banana pudding diving crispy house made wafers doused with caramelized banana chunks in a hot boozy sauce plus a bit of extra chocolate for good measure – all in all the best dessert I’d taste on this entire visit to Chicago.

With the bill paid and people still continuing to file in even as we exited the restaurant around 10:30 we thanked our server and again made our way to the street where a short drive would land us at our hotel exhausted, full, and happy to have experienced Segal’s intriguing concoctions even though not all were perfect and despite the fact that our ears were still ringing as though we’d just been to a concert as opposed to a restaurant (okay, slight exaggeration.) That said, having now experienced the scene at night I’d definitely not hesitate to return for brunch to see the savory side of the menu – and to try those brioche doughnuts the girl at the table next to us was eating.

Moving on to our final non-meal bites of the trip, the second night’s dessert setting would feature one of Chicago’s elder restaurants – The Atwood Café located inside the classic Reliance Building – a fitting end to a day that saw us spend most of our time downtown browsing Chicago’s iconic architecture from The Rookery to The Watertower and a distinct opposite from the loud cutting edge scene of the previous night at Mindy’s Hot Chocolate.

Making our way into the small restaurant by way of the hotel we were greeted first by tuxedoed door men and then by a friendly host named Patrick who would additionally act as our server for the evening. With the hour again past 10:00 we were told the main menu was no longer available and confirming that just desserts and coffee was our intent we were led to a nice four top in the middle of the heavily draped and upholstered room where we found both silverware and menus continuing the robust art-deco theme. With water poured and coffee offered and accepted by myself it was little time before our decisions were made and with a jovial “all the best choices” Patrick disappeared only to return moments later with both water refills and coffee warm-ups and once again ten minutes later with our dessert selections.

Without a bad sounding selection on the menu, the first dessert – my mother’s – would be the most “plain” yet at the same time perhaps the most intriguing, a dish called Buttermilk Pie with Huckleberry Compote. Described as being fashioned after something the pastry chef’s mother used to make at a diner down south and somewhere between tangy custard and sweet panna cotta baked into a soft shortbread crust this simple pie was topped with pan reduced huckleberries bursting with their juices and a dollop of whipped cream that served more to smooth than to sweeten – all in all this was diner food dressed up and down-home delicious.

Moving next to the more complex menu options, my aunt’s choice for the evening would be Red Velvet Cookie Dough with Goat Cheese Icing and Beet Puree – clearly another southern inspired dish, but this time reconstructed from the ground up with dollops of what literally tasted like chocolate chip cookie dough touched with cocoa and cream beneath inverted ice cream cones and resting atop a thick and tangy cream cheese. With the earthy flavor of beets both spread across the base of the plate and lacquering the inside of the cones this dish was far less sweet than what most folks would expect from Red Velvet (as popularized by the cupcake craze) but actually much more interesting though I must admit the texture of the cookie dough did get to be a bit much at times.

Rounding up the trio with my choice, a choice that would have been a no-brainer on any menu in America for me, Fig Bread Pudding with Lemon Basil Sorbet and Chantilly Cream was every bit as good as anticipated…or at least the Bread Pudding and Chantilly Cream were. Beginning first with the pudding – to be fair it was less bread pudding and more a traditional English Steamed pudding rich with both creamy and fibrous bits heavily accented with notes of honey, cinnamon, and brown sugar, but semantics aside it was great, especially when paired with the light and smooth Chantilly plus drizzles of honey fig sauce on the plate. Loving the bulk of the plate and really rather indifferent to the sorbet I’ll only note that while it didn’t really “hurt” anything, the sweet and savory concoction certainly did not compliment the dish in any conceivable manner and would have likely been served with another dish while pairing something more fitting with the pudding.

With no pressure to leave as Rat Pack standards played overhead we sat for a while enjoying our desserts while I sipped my coffee before Patrick would stop by again to make sure all was well and suggest we request the bill “whenever we were ready.” Another cup of coffee later and at this point not really making much difference in my fatigue the bill was next collected and paid with a sizable tip and after declining a cab since we’d driven we made our way to the streets which, save for the elevated train were largely quiet, and with my mother opting to drive I fell asleep almost the moment we got into the car - a well earned food coma if I do say so myself.