Something about the location (residential Lakeshore East) and the name (recalls Egg Harbor) sets expectations low, very low, especially for Opening Week. This is not to say the neighborhood is bad, it's quiet, lovely, and I know it well, but the name gives off the whiff of suburban brunch chain fare: over-dense pancakes with sugar bombs, stiff omelettes, ham-fisted ham dishes. But the thoughtful, playful menu boasts twisty takes on "Green Eggs and Ham", pork reubens, and "Peter and the Wolf" hash, and the trendy interior suggests more some sort of foodie hipster haven on the Northside.
Thankfully, there is only one table that is communal, though the setup is a bit strange. Still, despite the unusual combination of black and white photo banners, the giant kitschy lit arrow, and the lack of reservations, things remain figuratively accessible and inviting, the staff pleasant. Right away, from the golden brown texture of my companion's fries, it's clear these people can cook. They're crispy on the outside, soft on the inside, and have that dastardly effect where they don't seem overly salty until you eat a generous tin of them and find your mouth burning. The red curry chicken salad on his plate is also a kick. This is not a shy sandwich but something that packs a tremendous oomph of cool chicken and sharp, sharp curry heat. Beware in the best possible way.
My own eggs benedict arrives on toast with brown butter hollandaise and maple-glazed pork belly. Suspicious of sweet entrees and salad on my meat and eggs extravaganza, I tentatively dig in and am quickly proven wrong by the airy lightness of the hollandaise, the way the greens cut brightly through the fat, and an egg poached so perfectly that when I split its white vestments, the yolk remains a whole golden bubble on my bread. And somehow, with the brown butter and the pork's maple glaze, it is like I am simultaneously eating a savory benedict and mapled pancakes, and for some reason, the combination is delicious. I have eaten more benedicts than Gaston, and this may be my favorite one.
The smoked salmon omelette is the only thing that is unexciting, and even this is an inoffensive dish. The salmon is a tad sparse and lacks the cured silkiness of the best kind, and the addition of gruyere fails to spice up the party. But it is also hard to make smoked salmon and eggs taste bad (though Ann Sather's has succeeded in this regard) and they don't. Looking back broadly, things aren't perfect: the lack of reservations, the touch-higher price points, the tendency of the kitchen to run out of dishes. But when you find a place that can mix and match precision with whimsy, you come back, and you come back fast.
4.5/5 stars (Opening Week)
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Hearty: Brunch Review
Let me preface things by saying that I love brunch. My family loves brunch. My friends love brunch. If you think brunch is overpriced eggs, then you are technically correct and also incredibly wrong. Brunch has the power to transform a forgettable thing like breakfast or lunch into something greater, and for some places, this power is a touch necessary.
Hearty is almost hidden on a modest little piece of street, and it keeps things civilized in modern 70s chic and a pleasant host in mesmerizingly red pants. Our waitress is a bit more cold, though that may be written off to the crowd on Easter day, though Hearty carries neither a holiday menu nor a particularly holiday crowd.
My plate of chicken and waffles smells inviting and homey, and the chestnut farina waffle and sorghum butter are simple and comforting. The chicken, however, lacks seasoning and spice to bring out the pleasantly sweet bird flavor, and it's unfortunately fried into toughness. The pork belly hash shows a similar lack of precision. This time the meat's tender, but the hash is also watery and lacks seasoning and flavor once more. But there is something magical about the breaking of two properly-poached eggs and the joys of watching gooey yolks spread over potatoes and pork.
And the lemon curd pancakes are fluffy and creamy and, in fact, taste like a well-made lemon bar, which may be a detriment to some, and a plus for me. So despite my ambivalence and wishes for salt and spice, my time at Hearty ends well. The windows take the sunlight, the eggs ooze, and useless piece of meal like Sunday lunch is briefly turned into something better.
2/5 stars
Hearty is almost hidden on a modest little piece of street, and it keeps things civilized in modern 70s chic and a pleasant host in mesmerizingly red pants. Our waitress is a bit more cold, though that may be written off to the crowd on Easter day, though Hearty carries neither a holiday menu nor a particularly holiday crowd.
My plate of chicken and waffles smells inviting and homey, and the chestnut farina waffle and sorghum butter are simple and comforting. The chicken, however, lacks seasoning and spice to bring out the pleasantly sweet bird flavor, and it's unfortunately fried into toughness. The pork belly hash shows a similar lack of precision. This time the meat's tender, but the hash is also watery and lacks seasoning and flavor once more. But there is something magical about the breaking of two properly-poached eggs and the joys of watching gooey yolks spread over potatoes and pork.
And the lemon curd pancakes are fluffy and creamy and, in fact, taste like a well-made lemon bar, which may be a detriment to some, and a plus for me. So despite my ambivalence and wishes for salt and spice, my time at Hearty ends well. The windows take the sunlight, the eggs ooze, and useless piece of meal like Sunday lunch is briefly turned into something better.
2/5 stars
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Frog n Snail: Dinner Review
For a long time, I had been dying to go to Dale Levitski's Sprout. Cheeky pairings, whimsical presentations, and an intimidating pricepoint--I maintained a sullen inner monologue that this was one restaurant out of my league. When I first read about Frog n Snail's mission statement (updated versions on bistro classics) opening up on my doorstep, I was bored. When Eater displayed the images of the interior, I remained bored. Everything looked clean, classy, and minimalist, but I was searching for a sense of personality.
I went anyway, my excitement-meter still managed to point right as opening day neared and neared, and I ended up going in the restaurant's first week (always a tough time, so caveats aplenty). Still, the service was pleasant, with one minor fumble quickly corrected, and our waiter was effusive and personal in a good way. He heavily pimped the brook trout and barramundi muniere (untried), as "aromatic" and other sorts of superlatives and the mussels. The mussels were certainly good, if not No.1 or 2 as advertised. They lacked the kick of absinthe we were looking for, and the broth was a touch oversalted, but still plenty enjoyable.
The "incredibly aromatic" brook trout smelled like fish and almonds. This is not a bad thing, nor is it an incredible thing. I'm still waiting for fine dining to elevate the simple fish, which is quick, easy, and tasty in the hands of a homecook who won't destroy the damned thing. Someone do something about it already! The marcona almond cream sauce is fine and light, and the escargot are sauteed well, but without the usual accompanying butter and herbs, which I begin to quickly miss.
The lamb curry is similarly disappointing. It follows in the recent and troubling tradition of good Chicago restaurants cooking cuts of meat to proper tenderness with little flavor. It's devoid of the gamey mineral flavor I had from a few supermarket chops I enjoyed earlier. The curry is meek and I am forced to hunt for my goat cheese, just a few tiny bits scattered around that when discovered, lend the dish some much-needed funk and flavor. I'll admit, of the accompanying mint gnocchi, I think I just don't enjoy gnocchi in general (How is it any better than regular potatoes?), but one doesn't order a lamb curry with goat cheese if they're looking for something simple and spare. Like the restaurant and the fish, it is incredibly clean, light, and washed out of any personality. There is a difference between purity and simplicity of flavor and muting the best parts.
All this sounds tough on a brand-new and strangely-affordable restaurant filled with talented and pleasant people working out the kinks. And the lamb is one of the few dishes on the official menu that has been updated (broccoli, BLT, and boursin aioli). These people certainly deserve more chances, they should just give their own creativity some.
2/5 stars (Opening Week)
I went anyway, my excitement-meter still managed to point right as opening day neared and neared, and I ended up going in the restaurant's first week (always a tough time, so caveats aplenty). Still, the service was pleasant, with one minor fumble quickly corrected, and our waiter was effusive and personal in a good way. He heavily pimped the brook trout and barramundi muniere (untried), as "aromatic" and other sorts of superlatives and the mussels. The mussels were certainly good, if not No.1 or 2 as advertised. They lacked the kick of absinthe we were looking for, and the broth was a touch oversalted, but still plenty enjoyable.
The "incredibly aromatic" brook trout smelled like fish and almonds. This is not a bad thing, nor is it an incredible thing. I'm still waiting for fine dining to elevate the simple fish, which is quick, easy, and tasty in the hands of a homecook who won't destroy the damned thing. Someone do something about it already! The marcona almond cream sauce is fine and light, and the escargot are sauteed well, but without the usual accompanying butter and herbs, which I begin to quickly miss.
The lamb curry is similarly disappointing. It follows in the recent and troubling tradition of good Chicago restaurants cooking cuts of meat to proper tenderness with little flavor. It's devoid of the gamey mineral flavor I had from a few supermarket chops I enjoyed earlier. The curry is meek and I am forced to hunt for my goat cheese, just a few tiny bits scattered around that when discovered, lend the dish some much-needed funk and flavor. I'll admit, of the accompanying mint gnocchi, I think I just don't enjoy gnocchi in general (How is it any better than regular potatoes?), but one doesn't order a lamb curry with goat cheese if they're looking for something simple and spare. Like the restaurant and the fish, it is incredibly clean, light, and washed out of any personality. There is a difference between purity and simplicity of flavor and muting the best parts.
All this sounds tough on a brand-new and strangely-affordable restaurant filled with talented and pleasant people working out the kinks. And the lamb is one of the few dishes on the official menu that has been updated (broccoli, BLT, and boursin aioli). These people certainly deserve more chances, they should just give their own creativity some.
2/5 stars (Opening Week)
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