Date of Last Visit: Saturday, April 16, 2011

The Victims: Christina, Aileen

The Damage: About $50 per person

The Background:  Christina and Aileen appear in a lot of Chicago posts on this blog. (And Bob! Can’t forget Bob. Hi Bob!) Christina was my freshman year roommate at university, and Aileen lived next door. Christina will always be known for her green Doc Martens that year, and Aileen for her older boyfriend who, um, bought us Busch Lite.

It’s somewhat frightening sometimes to think how long I’ve known them both. Am I really that old? Urrggh.

We were dilly-dallying about making plans for dinner so at the very last minute, when I couldn’t get anyone at Hema’s to answer the phone, I booked us into Deca at The Ritz Carlton.

As you do.

Deca, as it turns out, is in the lobby of The Ritz. And while the gurgling of the fountain in the lobby may be pleasing at first, by the end of my meal I WANTED THEM TO TURN THE BLOODY THING OFF.

That being said, hotels always seem to induce this feeling of calm within me, so otherwise, all was right with the world. And the bread was really lovely. Like really lovely.

Aileen and I split the soft shell crab special to start. I liked this. She didn’t. I’m a fan of all things softshell. Great frying. Great flavors. Fresh fresh fresh asparagus.

Regular readers will know that steak isn’t normally my first preference, but there’s something about steak frites that calls to me every time. Sadly, this steak was overcooked. (I ordered medium rare. It arrived more medium well. All this being said, I was so hungry, I didn’t send it back.)

I don’t know what sorts of potatoes they used but the frites were just too short. Is that bad? Me criticizing a dish because the fries are too short? I feel very superficial. But ah well…so be it.

They gave us free cookies before we left. That was sweet.

The Verdict: Eh. I could spend less elsewhere for better, I think.

P.S. So you know I always include the Urbanspoon.com badges at the end of my posts. As of this writing–7 May 2011–the badge is showing a 42% rating for Deca. This is the LOWEST rating I have ever seen. Weird. Scary. Frightening.

The post Deca, Gold Coast first appeared on Passport Delicious | Solo Travel Blog | Solo Female Travel.

Date of Last Visit: Tuesday, March 22, 2011

The Victim: Hope

The Damage: About $40 each

The Background: Much like I was set up on “friend dates” when I first moved to London, I’ve found that repatriation comes with its own set of friend dates.  My friend Anna (who lives in London) has a friend Christa (who lives in France). I’ve met Christa a few times, and she’s every bit as awesome as her name, even if it is spelled with a CH. Christa, knowing my love of all things food, introduced me to Hope (who lives in Chicago) over Facebook a few months ago. And so Hope and I met up at Bistronomic on a chilly night in March, where funnily enough, the neighborhood was crawling with Brits due to some sort of even at the Bentley showroom. (American men more often than not wear t-shirts under their dress shirts. British men rarely do. Fact.)

The Entrance: I’m given a seat at the bar while I wait for  Hope and I try valiantly to catch the eye of the bartender. She is not of the multi-functioning sort because really, she avoids any and all eye contact with anyone until she finishes making the one drink she’s working on. Then she looks up, takes another order, and then proceeds to look down forever while cutting up this and adding that. Finally it’s my turn and I opt for a Kir Royale, which arrives a little on the sweet side, but there are worse things.

Hope arrives and we peruse the menu while we try to make ourselves heard over the din. That’s one thing I still can’t used to about popular American restaurants. They are so LOUD. And I don’t think it’s only because we’re loud people. I think our ceilings are higher, we use fewer tablecloths, and we are short on soft furnishings.

Up came our homemade country pate, which I thought was very nice and would have made a lovely lunch. Thick and meaty with some good spices in there. One complaint…someone had a heavy hand with the black pepper.

The beet salad lacked a little on the presentation side, but I again thought it would make a nice lunch. There were supposed to be yellow beets in here, but you could barely recognize them, so covered they were in red. Loved the hazelnut vinaigrette. This dish gave me ideas for things to cook for myself. That’s a good thing. I believe Hope felt it was all a little pedestrian, but I don’t want to put words in her mouth and will wait for her thoughts, which I have solicited via Facebook.

Oxtail ravioli just looked so…messy. It was nice, but the oxtail was lost here amongst all the celery root puree. This could have been bolder.

And here’s where we messed up, and where you could tell we were American and not raised in close proximity to a French-speaking country. We ordered the house tartine. And out this came. An open-faced sandwich. So not what we were expecting, but after much Google-ing, it’s exactly what we should have been expecting. Lunch food, again.

The Service: A bit absent-minded. He totally forgot my glass of wine. So he said he’d comp it. I ordered a second glass at some point. When we got the bill, he had comped both glasses. Who am I to complain?

The Verdict: I would go back here for lunch. Dinner is just too dark and loud and the menu seems better suited to lunch. (That being said, we didn’t hit the large plates, which are more dinner-like.)

The post Bistronomic, Gold Coast first appeared on Passport Delicious | Solo Travel Blog | Solo Female Travel.

Date of Last Visit: Friday, 2 March 2011

The Victim: Natalia

The Damage: $80 each

The Background: I haven’t seen Natalia in AGES. Like 2004 ages.  I think she’s a spy and should you ever meet her, I think you’d agree that the moniker fits. She is Belarussian, tall and enviously thin and Slavic-ly exotic looking. I remember when I first got to know her, she would smoke cigarettes in just that way–you know, that spy way. And she rarely every smiled. Not that she was unhappy or anything. It was just Natalia.

I haven’t seen Natalia until now because she’s just moved back to Chicago after a stint in Santa Monica, with her startup Interest Mix. Before that, she was somewhere between Detroit and Mexico City. But now she’s back and it was great to catch up with an old friend.

Natalia puts me in charge of ordering and I put our server in charge of ordering. We start out with some silky foie gras, which tastes deceptively light and airy. The speck is satiny with just the slightest elegant hint of smoke (like Natalia herself). Actually, the speck is truly excellent. I am very happy.

I’d watched a neighboring table secure an order of burrata and demolish it in good speed. And after tasting this, I can understand why. Mozzarella and cream. Was there ever a finer combination? I appreciated that when plated, they added a generous drizzle of olive oil along with a good dash of salt and pepper. This was lovely.

For our main, we split an order of Veal Blanquette–carrots, Paris mushrooms, and egg noodles. This reminded me of a dish from my childhood; my mother used to serve us veal, carrots and butter noodles on a regular basis. This was a homey and filling dish and perfect for the chilly weather. Perhaps a bit on the soupy side, but the buttery flavor melded well with the veal and carrots and made it all quite delightful.

Service: Service throughout was attentive and helpful. Honest, really. My only quibble is that the room we were in was in no man’s land to the back of the restaurant. It was dead, while the rest of Balsan was quite lovely.

The Verdict: I liked it here. I’d go back. I’d also go back to The Elysian’s bar on the second floor, Bernard’s, where we enjoyed a glass or two of Prosecco before embarking upon our dinner reservation. (And they actually comped us some Prosecco when our table wasn’t ready at 8, as booked. Natch.)

The post Balsan, Gold Coast first appeared on Passport Delicious | Solo Travel Blog | Solo Female Travel.