Graham Elliot

This week exhausted both of us. We've gone to the shelf and pulled out the big platters and we still have too much on our plates. One night, while I was out at an obligatory but very much enjoyed dinner, P stayed in, grilled steak, steamed broccoli and camped out in front of the tube. He watched Top Chef Masters. One of the competing chefs was Chicago’s Graham Elliot Bowles. Before the episode was over, P had reservations for tonight’s dinner at Graham Elliot.

With Thriller and Purple Rain playing in the background, our server served us icy martinis (classics with Bombay Sapphire and stuffed olives, thank you, shaken, not stirred), and she slipped us a basket of popcorn, freshly popped and tossed with a grating of black truffles and parmesan. She handed us menus. The list was just as simple as could be … but so much more. We could only laugh.

There were four “colds,” four “hots,” four “seas,” and four “lands.” It was a nearly impossible decision. I wanted it all. He did too. In the end, he had a hot and a land: kung pao sweetbreads with peanut brittle, and pork loin stuffed with roasted pistachios and garlic, with Italian faro as a base, peach marmalade on top and thyme sauce. I countered with a cold and a sea--my cold: foie gras torchon with a crispy dice of pickled rhubarb, crushed Marcona almonds and buttermilk sorbet; my sea: seared halibut with smoked cous cous, eggplant puree and tomato marmalade.

It was one of those meals that you want to eat entirely in small tastes. Every bite was entertaining, comforting; every bite held sweet, sour, salty and spicy. A slightly larger forkful of it all together yielded crunchy, crisp, smooth and soft. (P NEVER shares … or wants tastes. He did both.)

As we settled in with Becky, our server, we moved from “what kind of water to do want?” to “have you been here before?” to “are you visiting or do you live here?” (You know how it goes…) We told her that we were new to the area, and what brought us here. Over the course of the meal, she brought us a list of her favorite off-the-beaten-path restaurants, and after our land and sea, she offered a “welcome to Chicago” gift from the Chef: foie gras lollipops. I usually indulge in foie gras every year or so, so two courses in one night was, well, maybe more than I had in mind, but I was smitten. Imagine foie gras mousse’s smooth butteriness with an edge of pop rocks delivered on a paper stick. Becky said the lollipops always make people laugh, and always for different reasons (some, I suppose, for the immediate thing in their mouth, others for the nod to Chicago's recent revocation of a city-wide foie gras ban). We like it, she said, when people laugh here.

If you’re in town, go. It's comfort food for both brain and belly. And good for a laugh, too. Here it is: http://www.grahamelliot.com/