The Purple Pig and Sweet Mandy B's, Chicago IL

Making our way through Millennium Park I anticipated the long lines, hour plus waits, and loud environment without a system reservations – given its prime location, quartet of well respected chefs, and recent appointment by Bon Appétit as one of the 10 best new restaurants in America I understood the hype. For a concept that seemed so simple (and something done in other cities prior) to get such rave reviews I figured The Pig had to be something special but in all reality the main selling point for myself and my traveling party was that the full menu was available for lunch and that it was easily walkable from our Saturday visit to the Art Institute of Chicago. Arriving at the small space on Michigan Avenue the restaurant certainly lived up to the rumors – a line snaked out the door and the volume was audible from the street.

Making our way through the nicely heated outdoor seating area to the door we were greeted by a pleasant hostess who told us the wait would likely be 45 minutes “or so” for a group of three. Without further plans we put our name on the list and looked for a place to stand – the restaurant was jammed packed and we essentially spent the next 20 minutes standing/sitting near the glass window watching plate after delectable looking plate emerge from the kitchen. Twenty minutes at 1:00pm on a Saturday – yes – when a group of 8 stood up from the long center table and multiple persons ahead of us on the wait list had apparently left or didn’t hear their name called over the din we were seated without further ado, handed a menu, and water was poured immediately.

Browsing the multitude of menu options my companions noted that they weren’t terribly hungry and would likely be ordering only one item each – thankfully when asked if they’d sample some items if I was paying they assented. Although the place was packed and loud with seating tight and the gathering throng of waiting patrons invading our one foot radius frequently I will note that service was friendly, prompt, courteous, and never rushed - yes they were turning tables at a good pace, but never did I feel like plates were being rushed and when we finished we were even asked if we wanted dessert or more small plates. Orders placed we began our wait and watched plate after plate of pork parts pass by whetting our appetite.

With plates arriving randomly as they were completed in the kitchen (like most small plates experiences) timing was actually quite excellent and we were able to finish most plates before the next round arrived. Kicking things off would be the Open face pork belly BLT with a fried egg. Featuring Benton’s Bacon pork belly sliced and fried crisp over rye bread and topped with artisan frisee, fresh tomato, and a golden fried egg this was designer comfort food – savoriness sweetened by the tomato alone and balanced with the hefty and crusty bread – a tad difficult to cut and share, but an excellent start largely consumed by Nate who enjoyed it thoroughly.

Arriving shortly after the BLT would be more delicious pig parts – perhaps the most “famous” dish on the menu – Pig's Ear with Crispy Kale, Pickled Cherry Peppers & Fried Egg. Having only had pig’s ear twice in the past this was actually the strongest presentation to date with the ear actually less crisp than the intense kale – well done with melting collagen between layers of protein. With acidic as opposed to hot pepper intermingled and served in an adorable pig bowl the dish was again egg topped and the creamy yolk proved a nice foil for the otherwise contrasting flavors and textures.

With the next two dishes arriving as a pair the first would be a cheese course. Simply paired with toasted bread and quince compote our selections would be Truffle Tremor, Capriole O’Banon, and Manchego – all cheeses I have had in the past and all served in large wedges at a relative bargain price of $17 for the three. As much as I’m a relative novice to cheese tasting in general, Cypress Grove’s three chevres continue to wow me each and every time.

For my sister’s choice she opted for the Sepia with Snap Peas and Toasted Almonds and Rosemary. Served largely unadorned in ceramic bowl the squid itself was tender and juicy with just a touch of olive oil and lemon. With crunch lent by the almonds and sweetness from the surprisingly fresh mid-Autumn Peas this was a successful dish despite its lack of swine.

For our final two dishes more of the restaurant’s namesake animal were on the order – the first a “smear” of Mortadella, Balsamico & Pistachio on toasted house made bread. With the fatty salume ground to a chunky paste and ample with notes of pepper, nutmeg, and coriander the high notes of this dish were without a doubt the crunchy fresh pistachios. Accented with a tangy and sweet balsamic vinegar the dish was not the most attractive, but it was certainly my favorite of the meal.

Our final plate of the meal is perhaps the Purple Pig’s most notable; The Milk Braised Pork Shoulder with Mashed Potatoes. With the recipe featured on the website I rather figured this dish would be somewhat akin to my Grandfather’s rustic pork-steak and potatoes with a texture similar to Luke’s Cochon au Lait – unfortunately while it was quite good it didn’t live up to either. Fatty and succulent to be sure I really cannot fault the pork itself, but rather the lack of nuance or seasoning outside of a heavy handed salt shaker. Attempting to dissect the protein away from the gravy I personally think this dish would actually be better off without the gravy – or perhaps with a firm starch or vegetable.

Happily sated but certainly not stuffed we agreed to take a look when the dessert menu was offered but unfortunately the budino I’d been eyeing on the online menu was nowhere to be found and while the Panino con Nutella sounded tasty we also had cupcakes waiting from the morning and decided to pass. Check delivered we settled the tab and made our way through the crowd to the street – total meal time from entering to exit just shy of 100 minutes. Impressed but not wowed I think The Purple Pig is a great concept with good execution – the sort of place it might be nice to pop in for a drink and snacks, but not necessarily a “destination” or “must” in a city with such great diversity of options – though it is open for lunch when many of its competitors are not.

Returning to our parking space in Millennium Park after some Michigan Avenue shopping we were greeted by our cupcakes from Sweet Mandy B’s. Touted as an old fashioned bakery and featuring an assortment of nostalgic cookies, cakes, pies, whoopie pies, bars, and cupcakes the small shop is perhaps the oldest cupcakery in Chicago and a place I’d missed out on thrice during previous visits. Having gone early in the morning when Floriole was still behind on their morning baking the shop was bustling with a minimum of five bakers and three persons working the front of the house – service was excellent and prices surprisingly reasonable.

With our bounty of cupcakes less than 6 hours old and having sat in the chilly car I feel confident saying that our selections were still “fresh” and with each of us selecting one cake plus a mutually agreed upon fourth I will note I was disappointed there was no Red Velvet, but happy that there were so many unique options. With frosting aplenty and cake moist without being “doughy” each option was quite good – first a lemon selection that tasted somewhat artificial but plenty tangy – more lemonade than ice box, but good none the less. The second option, a seasonal pumpkin with cream cheese icing fared better than the lemon to my palate, but with significantly hefty nutmeg, clove, and cinnamon the pumpkin took a back seat to the spice. Choice three would be French Toast – a lovely flavor with ample notes of cinnamon, maple, and butter – it truly did taste like French Toast. The final choice, and best by far, was Caramel Apple. With chunks of baked apple providing contrast to the soft batter and a topping of butter cream and caramel the flavor was almost that of an apple dumpling.

Heading back to Millennium Park where Dr. Oz’s Health Expo was ongoing we had the opportunity to watch Art Smith – a known diabetic – and guest star Elmo prepare healthy foods while discussing the day’s gluttony and looking forward to the evening’s extended tasting by Chef Joho at Everest. Places like Sweet Mandy B’s make me glad that I take care of patients with diabetes and do not have it – but I’d rather tax my pancreas at Sugar Bliss, Southport, or Molly’s.

Big Jones, Chicago IL

For breakfast on the third day of our trip to Chicago I planned in advance – while I’m willing to wait in long lines for great food I’d much rather make a reservation and avoid it. With most Chicago brunch hot-spots opening around 9:00am I woke up early as ever a hit the gym before waking the crew and hitting the road – our first stop would be Floriole bakery at 8:00am – unfortunately they’d had some issues with staff arriving late and very few items were ready – unabashed we walked next door to Sweet Mandy B’s where we picked up some cupcakes for later.

Loaded back into the car by 8:30 we proceeded through the cold streets and arrived in Andersonville by 8:45 – familiar with the area from our visit to Great Lake the night before we actually parked in the same exact spot and made our way to Big Jones by 8:55. Just slightly north of freezing we stood waiting for the doors to open while we watched three fellows (one with his pants essentially halfway down his posterior) attempt to hang a large curtain near the hostess stand…when 9:00 rolled around the doors did not open…nor did they open at 9:05, 9:10, or 9:15 as the team fussed with the curtain and moving plates around on tables…I know they saw us – they saw our group and another two couples standing in the cold yet the “closed” sign remained in place. At 9:20 they finally opened the door without any explanation for the delay – even when I strode up the host stand and made a point stating “We had reservations for three at 9am” – and without a hello or a smile we were led to a seat near the front of the restaurant where their newly hung curtain would fail to prevent an extremely cold draft every time someone opened the door.

Without going on at length about the abysmal service at Big Jones and thus rendering this review negative throughout I will note here that aside from the seating gaffs there was also the issue of empty coffee and hot water for tea, orders presented to the wrong persons, significant delays and lack of personality despite the restaurant being half empty, and a dessert order that required advanced notice was forgotten thus prolonging our frequently frigid stay by 30 minutes. Those issues out of the way, I will now note that the setting was charming, the seating comfortable, and the concept/cooking quite appealing. As described by chef/owner Paul Fehribach "I do what I do because I want to see nutrition, sustainability, and humane treatment of farm animals become the standard by which we judge food - not cheap price, industrial consistency, or marketing dollars spent. We can all eat better by treating the land and our animal friends better."

Warming up with the first of three cups of Intelligentsia orders were placed and the first item to arrive was the restaurant’s signature complimentary beignets. Served in a group of four and topped liberally (or sparsely if your point of comparison is Café du Monde) with powdered sugar the puffs of dough were toothsome on the exterior with a supple interior that melted in the mouth – as quickly as they arrived they were gone.

For our appetizer selections we decided to share two of the myriad Low Country options – the first being Cracked Pepper and Goat Cheese Biscuits with Honey butter and house blueberry preserves. Textural and buttery the biscuits were excellent with a distinct tanginess lent by the cheese. Visually obvious I personally did not feel the pepper added much flavor to the dish but with that said the saccharine sweet honey butter and smooth preserves were excellent additions and served to highlight the cheese’s nuances.

The second appetizer, Cajun Pancakes with blueberry preserves and honey butter fared just as well as the biscuits and perhaps better. Thin crepes with the butter folded inside the crispy yet light cakes were paired with powdered sugar and the same delectable preserves presented with the biscuits. Thinking aloud I mentioned to my sister that any dish raising memories of my Maternal Grandmother’s Hungarian palachinka is never a bad thing – interestingly another dish later in the day would raise memory of my Maternal Grandfather, as well.

After a lengthy delay of around twenty-five minutes the restaurant had filled to approximately 1/2 capacity and our main courses began to arrive. With Nate again not preferring sugary breakfasts he opted for a beautiful looking rendition of classic Eggs Benedict with Neiman Ranch applewood pit ham, and poached eggs served over popovers and topped with hollandaise alongside classic potatoes O'Brien. Judging by his lack of chatter during the meal and subsequent empty plate I will assume he enjoyed them.

Eschewing her love of sweet breakfasts for her love of both cornbread and pancakes Erika’s selection would prove to be the best of the group – Low country style corn cakes with cheddar cheese, vegetarian red beans, poached eggs, and green tomato chili sauce. Far less spicy than I’d have imagined (a good thing for me but likely not for those who fancy “low country” heat) the cakes themselves proved to be toothsome without being grainy and sweet without being sugary. Topped with perfectly poached eggs whose yolks helped to balance the acidity of the tomatoes and rimmed by red beans the dish was certainly heavy but not so much that it was overwhelming.

For my option, featuring house made Sally Lunn Bread, I selected the Sally Lunn French Toast with Brandied Harrow's Delight pears, Neiman Ranch applewood ham, and Michigan Maple syrup. Sweet, Savory, and slightly boozy all at once this dish could have been a standout save for one thing – as well caramelized and eggy as the bread was, it was largely uncooked on the interior and more a grilled ham sandwich than French Toast. Tasty for sure and featuring some of the best breakfast ham I’ve had in some time I simply prefer my French Toast with a more custard center.

At this point our server returned to ask “will there be anything else” and when I mentioned the dessert order he admitted he had forgotten and apologized. Asking if we would still be interested I assented and after another 30 minutes of chatting and drinking coffee the desserts would arrive – the first a house made Bourbon Bread Pudding with Autumn Apples, Salted caramel, and vanilla bean ice cream. Considering myself something of a Bread Pudding Aficionado I have to say the flavor of the dish was quite good but the texture of the pudding was a tad stiff and the apples were underwhelming both it taste and texture. With the vanilla bean ice-cream and the crumbled salted caramel propping up the dish I will simply say I was underwhelmed that this came from a restaurant proclaiming itself to represent Southern Costal Cuisine.

Our final selection, and the reason for the delay, was the fresh baked Red Velvet Cake with cocoa, beet, and citrus plus cream cheese semifreddo. What the dish lacked in presentation – essentially a puck of red velvet tilted up by the semifreddo and crumbles of salted caramel along side – it more than made up for in taste, texture, and temperature. With the still steaming cake slowly melting the impossibly creamy and smooth semifreddo and caramel adding texture each bite was a different experience – cocoa, citrus, earthy, and entirely worth the wait – a dish that alone justifies a visit to Big Jones, even if just for dessert (perhaps after a Pizza at Great Lake?)

Settling the bill and making our way to the car the day remained cold while my feelings about Big Jones could be summed up as tepid. With ethics and a business model so strong I felt rather disappointed that customer service was so poor and while some items were truly exemplary others were rather ho-hum and poorly executed. Having now had a number of great breakfasts and brunches in Chicago – in my humble opinion the best brunch city in the US – I can’t say I’d rush back to Big Jones for anything aside from that Red Velvet cake…provided I did not have to stand and then sit in the cold for 2 hours to get it.

Schwa, Chicago IL

If you’re reading this site you are likely aware of Schwa, Chef Michael Carlson, the obscure reservations system, and even the GQ Article that vaulted the restaurant above other temples of molecular gastronomy as “The Most Revolutionary Restaurant in America.” Hailed by some as a genius, some as an artist, and some as a mad scientist or simply a madman there is no doubt in Carlson’s pedigree – classic Italian training both in Italy and alongside Bartolotta at Spiaggia paired with training in molecular cuisine with Achatz (while at Trio) and Blumenthal at the Fat Duck. What may be in doubt, however, is the seemingly nonchalant, renegade, or downright annoying process of getting to eat Michael’s cuisine.

Calling on the last day of September in hopes of getting a seat for the weekend of my visit in November I was shocked when Carlson actually answered the phone at 12:30pm Ohio time. Sounding a bit perplexed by my question of “Did reservations for November open up today?” he responded “Um, yeah” and proceeded to take my number (no name) and date/time of reservation. After a quick read of the BYOB policy he said “peace, see ya on the 4th” and the line went silent. Wanting to make sure my reservation was legit I tried to call back a couple times in October but always reached their full voicemail box….then on November 2nd I got a call from Mathew to confirm – 6pm – again, no name was requested.

Flash forward to November 4th - 4:00pm the phone rings as I’m browsing in Crate&Barrel – it is Matt again. “Bro, man, we’ve got a problem.” A problem with the building…we’re cancelling service tonight…we also just had two people quit…we’re really sorry…we’ll make it up to you…any date you like…etc. Explaining that I was in from out of town he stated he would “call the chef and get back to me in ten minutes.” That call never came. Frustrated I called back and met that same familiar voice recording over and over…eventually after approximately 20 calls (and 35 minutes) Matt again answered – I explained I was the guy from Ohio and got a “Oh, s&%$ man, I forgot.” To this point I’m still uncertain as to whether he forgot to call or forgot I even existed – the whole conversation was very disjointed and full of “um,” “bro,” and “dude” but regardless he told me that they were going to open up “early” the next day to get us in – when I asked for a time he told me 7:00pm and again read the scripted BYOB policy. A quick scramble to swap my Bonsoiree reservation and things seemed, at least for the time being, set.

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Having just whetted my appetite with my sister and her friend at Great Lake we made the quick trip to North Ashland and found the restaurant looking just as I’d seen in pictures – certainly not the portrait of haute cuisine. Receiving a text message from my friend Dave that he’d be there around 7:05 I bid my companions farewell and entered the restaurant – the darkest dining room I’ve ever seen, completely empty, and Redman and Methodman blaring – I laughed and thought back to my experience at Ko…the music, the setting/neighborhood, the reservation system…everything felt a bit familiar. Standing in the middle of the room for a few moments I watched the motion of the kitchen – Carlson hand cutting pasta through the illuminated window suddenly looked up and motioned to one of his colleagues, Matt, who came out to the dining room and said “hey bro, can I help you?” Introducing myself I was met with a “cool, cool – the dude from Ohio, right – I thought we said 7:30?” Knowing for fact he’d said 7:00 but largely unconcerned he led me to the two-top closest to the kitchen where I would sit for approximately 10 minutes before Dave arrived – water was filled and I was left to listen to Wu-Tang, Ozzy, Mastadon, KRS One, Tupac, and a progression of loud music while watching the small team of three (Matt, Matt, and Michael) work the kitchen.

Arriving with wine, Dave was greeted quickly and the bottle was taken back to the kitchen. Not recalling what wine Dave brought I’ll note that glasses were kept full throughout the evening and Matthew even opened up some of the wine in the kitchen to pair a Pinot Noir with the lighter courses. Still the only full table in the restaurant both Matt and Michael visited the table to welcome us and service began quickly. Without going into too much detail I will note that throughout the evening service was excellent despite the fact that the chefs were also the servers and although there was a lot of slang and mumbling the plates were delivered with extensive description of ingredients, technique, and inspiration – the team also went out of their way to learn about diners (asking what dishes/ingredients worked or didn’t, inquiring about our jobs and interest, etc.)

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Without further ado – while I’m sure some of my descriptions are lacking an ingredient or five (the menu I was given at the end of the night listed 3-4 ingredients per plate) the meal started off with the night’s amuse - Clarified Bloody Mary with spicy tomato, pepper, and pork. Similar to Alinea’s Thai Distillation this simple shot was exactly what you’d expect from the title – hot and savory, smooth and refreshing. Interestingly when Matthew saw me snap a picture he offered the advice “don’t worry if you wanna use flash dude, it’s pretty dark in here.”

With the soundtrack blasting Busta Rhymes our first course arrived – “Octopus - Pineapple, Macadamia Nut, Char.” Featuring supple slow boiled octopus that lacked any semblance of chewy/rubberiness cascaded across the plate atop smears of burnt pineapple and macadamia nut puree the flavor of the cephalopod was nicely complimented by the sweet and nutty admixtures. Adding complexity and texture would be thinly sliced pan seared arctic char, shaved nori, baked yucca chips, and micro greens while dots of aged Sherry vinegar lent a savory finish.

When course two arrived we were still enjoying our three:two server/chef:diner ratio and Carlson delivered the plate himself. Titled “Elote – Corn, Lime, Cojita” the plate featured Warm corn soup made with “mayonnaise and cilantro pudding” and a side salad consisting of charred corn, lime puree, chili spiced popcorn, and cojita cheese. Interestingly using the lime to adhere the cup to the plate we were instructed to eat this “however you like” and after a taste of the soup – a fantastic flavor/texture best described as cornbread veloute – I proceded to add bits of corn, cheese, and lime to the admixture which produced more nuanced flavors. All in all my least favorite course of the meal, but a successful take on the popular Hispanic street food which the course was named after.

It was with course three that the soundtrack switched from Rap to Metal, loud and heavy either way, and more patrons began arriving…as a matter of fact, the restaurant went from empty to full almost immediately at 7:45pm and we chuckled as a few patrons were turned away despite bringing boozy gifts for the kitchen. With service slowing only slightly the next plate was one of Carlson’s more famous options - “Tagliatelle - veal heart, huckleberries, honey.” Featuring a spiral of hand cut pasta snaking up the edge of the bowl and topped with chopped veal heart, whole huckleberries, Tellagio cheese, honeyed veal demiglaze, shaved black truffles, and arugula this course once again showed off Carlson’s fondness for sweetened proteins. Tender and al dente the pasta itself was beautiful but the star of the show was undoubtedly the manner in which the sweet gravy enhanced the savory offal. This course and its follow-up were the only courses where I truly wished there was bread service at Schwa as I would have loved to sop up every drop of the sauce.

Our next course would be offered as a “bonus” and true to rumor when a later table requested the dish they were told it could not be accommodated as the kitchen had “run out.” As much a signature as anything at Schwa, Carlson’s famous Quail Egg Yolk Ravioli with Buffalo ricotta, brown butter, white truffle, and Chive was every bit as good as the rumors. Likely influenced by his time at Trio with Achatz (who was then perfecting Black Truffle Explosion) the Ravioli was served solo and we were instructed to let it cool a moment and then eat it in a single bite. Bursting in the mouth and potentially the only dish of the evening lacking substantial sweetness I’m going to go out on a limb and say I enjoyed this even more than Achatz’s fabled dish – the texture of the molten egg yolk was simply one of the best mouth-feels I can imagine and the brown butter/white truffle combination was divine on the palate.

Returning to the menu, course four was an interesting dish of opposing flavors that worked much better than one would expect. Titled “Roe – Watermelon, Violet” the course was served in a rounded bowl and featured Steelhead Roe floating in a semi-solid watermelon gelee and topped with viola flowers. On the edge of the bowl rested a curl of watermelon rind and on the plate balancing the rounded bowl was a bit of tempura steelhead roe. Taking my first bite of the dish I was instantly struck by the hefty flavors of watermelon – a flavor so strong it almost tasted artificial like Bubbalicious – but on mastication a pleasant salinity broke through as the caviar burst on the tongue and the overall effect was something like tapioca pudding in texture and with the aroma of violet the course seemed to serve as a palate cleanser to both the tongue and the nostrils. Not to be forgotten, the rind was cured and somewhat vinegar-sweet while the tempura roe was intensely briny and crisp.

For our fish course, “Halibut – Anchovy, Black Garlic, Zucchini” would arrive as the largest portion size of the meal. With easily 3 ounces of broiled and seared Halibut centering the plate the day boat fish was perfectly flaky and tender. Seated amidst crispy garlic chips, grilled zucchini, sprigs of lavender, and drizzles of sesame oil the fish was additionally paired with three distinct smears – sweet black garlic, tangy Greek yogurt, and subtly briny white anchovy puree. Tasting the fish with each component provided a different experience and although diverse in scope each item served to highlight the protein without distracting from the others.

Course six would be another familiar face on the Schwa menu – “Biscuits and Gravy – Sweetbreads, Red Eye Gravy, Mustard.” Described as a tribute to Michael’s southern grandmother the dish featured three plump and crispy sweetbreads with characteristic creamy centers juxtaposed with three tiny buttermilk biscuits from his grandmother’s recipe. A lovely start, the plate was next supplemented with bitter braised mustard greens, fibrous Chinese black beans, ground pink peppercorns, micro-arugula, miniature pearl onions, and coffee spiked redeye gravy. With each flavor playing a part in the entirely southern feeling dish I have to admit I was a bit taken aback by the spiciness of the gravy – it was appropriate for the dish, but required nearly a whole glass of water on my admittedly un-southern tongue.

Our main course, arriving during a particularly loud and profanity laden track by Nas, would be one of Carlson’s more recent creations – a dish detailed as “S’mores – beef mole, graham, marshmallow, campfire.” Having to walk through the kitchen to get to the restroom I’d seen this course being prepped earlier in the meal – or at seen Carlson taking the Wagyu from the sous vide bag and shredding it. Featuring Wagyu short ribs in a cocoa nib mole that literally melted on the tongue, the dish was topped with crumbled graham crackers, a creamy graham cracker puree, and black cardamom marshmallow all placed in a cone. With the cone resting in a smoking vessel we were instructed to lift the cone and eat with a spoon while the campfire smoke poured forth. Again pairing intense sweetness with a traditionally savory dish I can say that of all the creations I experienced at Schwa this is probably the most memorable – it was a truly beautiful and on par with the Tagliatelle for best of the night. As an added bonus the dish included an ounce of Gran Marnier consommé as a “sidecar” – intensely boozy with hints of orange and cinnamon, another intriguing palate cleanser.

The night’s cheese course would prove to be small, intense, and unlike any other cheese course in my experience…no surprise, all things considering. Titled “Pretzels and Beer” the course featured a small pretzel gougere stuffed with Chimay Cheese and topped with Chimay Beer Foam sitting on a puddle of Mustard Paint. A single bite, a flash on the palate – first mustard, then beer, then a creamy lingering finish. While I’m a fan of neither mustard nor beer neither of them were overly potent when compared to the cheese and I still wonder how Carlson managed to form a pretzel that dissolved on the tongue.

For our dessert course we received the dish I’d expected, “Celery Root – Banana, Chocolate, Caramel.” Featuring a pool of sweetened celery soup with slowly melting white chocolate mousse at its base and a disk of celery root cake at the center the cake itself was next topped with a shard of white chocolate while a rum roasted bruleed banana doused with salted caramel sat alongside. Topping the dish with Banana leather and clover I have to say that the cake itself was almost too celery for me – someone who eats celery frequently and loves the flavor – and my friend did not enjoy it at all. The key to this dish, however, seemed to lie in combining everything at once and taking a bite – the bitterness of the celery, the sweetness of the banana, the smoothness of the chocolate, and the salty caramel forming a unique flavor that tasted something like heavily sweetened matcha.

With the place jam packed and the decibel level rising as people enjoyed their beverages of choice (yes, even the guy who brought the case of PBR) Michael and Matt both visited our table once again to thank me for adjusting my schedule to accommodate the issues of the night before – “we really wanted to cook for you guys, but sometimes s#@% just happens – it’s awesome that you could make it.” Thanking them we were told we could hang out as long as we liked as they had no more reservations for the evening – they even offered to pour us some beer which we politely declined. Arriving with the check and a copy of the menu Matt said “seriously guys, we don’t f#$& up – whenever you’re ready” and opening the check we found that we’d been given half off the tab. Leaving a $75 tip for the awesome evening we thanked the crew once again and made our way to the street.

A bizarre restaurant and experience in all ways it is really hard to sum up what Schwa “is” in the grand scheme of restaurants when looking back on it. The best comparison I can offer up is the one I assumed going in – Momofuku Ko. Obscure reservation system, off beat location, “come as you are” dress code, blaring music, and obscure ingredient pairings that somehow work. With that said, the bar stools, snooty attitude, excessive price tag, and NO pictures policy at Ko speaks to a restaurant that doesn’t care what you think – they believe it is a privilege to experience their vision. On the contrary, quoting Michael Carlson himself, “We cook food we want to eat in an environment we want to eat it in” and “Our game plan is the same game plan as every night. We're making 30 people happy." On November 5th 2010 Schwa made me very happy and it was absolutely worth the effort.

Great Lake, Chicago IL

Dinner on Friday was to’ve been Bonsoiree but that all changed when Schwa called me and changed things up on Thursday. Frustrating as it was at first, what resulted was not only a swapping of dates between Schwa and Bonsoiree, but a later seating at Schwa that opened up an opportunity I could not pass up – the opportunity for an early pre-dinner featuring what many (including Alan Richman who took the place global on his GQ list) consider to be the best Pizza in America – Great Lake. Traveling with my sister and her friend we called ahead to find out Great Lake would open at 5:00pm and we arrived in Andersonville around 4:30, grabbed a cup of coffee at Kopi, and proceeded to wait in the line already sporting two other couples.

Standing in front of the large window with curtain drawn we could see the vague outlines of Nick Lessins and crew working inside and I explained to my colleagues the controversial Pizza-Nazi-esque reputation that has been spread across the net. Undeterred by the stories and rather intrigued by the ethics of a husband/wife team that have stayed true to their roots – cooking each pie individually, sourcing everything they can locally or from well trusted providers, and honing their craft in the image of the restaurant that inspired them (Pizzeria Bianco) – instead of selling out and compromising an operation they clearly love, I rather figured the trip would be worth the effort. As we stood and a few snowflakes fell a car pulled up and out hopped Lydia Esparza with a large bag of groceries – making her way past the now 14 person line she opened the door and ushered us in.

Making our way in the door we simply followed the line up to the counter where Lessins could be seen preparing crusts and a young man was quickly chopping the ingredients Lydia had brought. Browsing the menu on the wall there were three pizzas, three addable ingredients, and two salads available for the evening – we quickly came to a consensus and placed our order. Handed a cork with two aces it was suggested we sit at an end at the communal table.

Seated for a few moments a young man brought us water and three cups – we were left to pour our own, as were all persons providing their own wine. As we sat and chatted we watched Nick slowly prepare each pizza step by step – throwing the dough, adding olive oil, placing each ingredient by hand, and manning the oven all on his own. We also chuckled as Lydia shot down a special request (from a particularly annoying mother with two young girls who unfortunately sat right next to us) to order Pizza #2 without black pepper.

With the gas oven capable of making only two pizzas at a time we sat for approximately 20 minutes before the first two came out of the oven and watched with baited breath as our neighbors indulged. With a short line slowly forming outside we additionally started to realize the non-stop calls coming in for carryout orders – by the time we left the pickup time was nearly 2 hours. Thankfully our wait was much less considerable and the pizza was delivered to our table a mere 35 minutes after sitting down.

Delivered piping hot with cheese still bubbling our #1 with Tomato, Homemade Fresh Mozzarella, Mona Aged Cheese, Basil, Oregano, Rosemary, and 1/2 with thick cut Gunthorp Farms Bacon was every bit as good as the rumors. Ten slices in total and featuring what I can only describe as the “perfect” crust I actually burned the roof of my mouth in taking my first bite – the supple charred crust proving astoundingly chewy beneath the creamy house mozzarella and cow/sheep blend. With the spice blend nicely complimenting the exquisitely sweet and mildly acidic tomatoes and the smoky bacon adding its characteristic savoriness the totality of the pizza was exactly what you expect when you think of “pizza” and given the quality of ingredients and preparation it was that “pizza” in its ideal form.

Settling the admittedly hefty $30 (w/tax+tip) tab after three slices each we thanked Lydia and Nick (I think Nick may have even looked up from the pizza station and smiled) and made our way to the street. Having eaten a number of other top notch pizzas from ovens of wood, coal, and gas I can say without a doubt that while I often prefer esoteric ingredients there is no doubt in my mind that the crust and ingredients at Great Lake are amongst the best I’ve ever tasted. Is it the best in the USA – I don’t know, I really liked Osteria, Tacconelli’s, and Supinos as well. While some people may not like the “attitude,” I’m okay with a man (or woman) truly dedicated to his/her craft and if they want to be perfect six hours a day and four days a week I’m okay with that – perfection is worth waiting for.