Let’s go to Xoco for breakfast, said Mr. FB.

In case you don’t know, Fellow FoodBeest, Xoco is Rick Bayless’s “little sister” to Frontera Grill and Topolobambo. It features the best of street food from all over Mexico – boosted by the deft hand of Chef Bayless.

Bayless spent years touring Mexico, sampling regional food, and transforming both the most elevated and the most mundane into an art form before bringing it to an America that thought that the sum and substance of Mexican food was tacos, burritos and quesadillas. With maybe some guacamole on the side.

Bayless is the recipient of three James Beard awards: Midwest Chef of the Year, National Chef of the Year and Humanitarian of the Year. His Chicago-based restaurants were groundbreaking in altering what we Americans know and appreciate about Mexican cuisine/cocina.

Lovers of Mexican food and Mexican culture, we had enjoyed both Frontera and Topo, but never Xoco, and had heard about their amazing breakfasts and lunches and especially the churros, a traditional Mexican version of our terribly au courant donut.

Xoco, we discovered, stops serving breakfast at 10 and starts lunch service at 11. We arrived at the 40-seat corner restaurant at 10:30. No one takes table orders at Xoco. You stand in line, place your order, and the staff brings you your food.

“We only serve churros until 11,” they told us.

Oh, no! Only churros? So sad. Or as Uncle Remus told of Br’er Rabbit’s response to Br’er Fox’s threat, “Oh, no, Br’er Fox! Please don’t throw me in the briar patch!”

LOL.

Xoco Churros

So we had churros. And coffee. Or in my case chocolate café con leche. Hard to take. Poor us.

Xoco Glazed Churros

Our churros were plain and unadorned but for the sugar, but they are also available glazed with chocolate/peanut, pistachio, or Margarita/almond.

San Miguel de Allende (SMA) is one of my favorite cities in the world. Almost in the dead center of Mexico with not a beach in sight, SMA contains a large enclave of American ex-pats, most of whom are both a little bit wonderful and a little bit crazy. There is a restaurant in SMA’s Centro called San Augustin that is both an institution and a bit of a tourist trap in that town. It is owned by Mexican telenovella actress Margarita Gralia.. Visitors to SMA are almost required to stop there for churros and hot chocolate before leaving town. We have been there several times. And it’s ok.

But, my dear friends in SMA, I am sorry to tell you that San Augustin doesn’t hold a candle to the churros at Xoco. Not even in the same ballpark. Xoco’s churrros are warm, crispy, sprinkled with sugar and cinnamon and who knows what else. What’s more they don’t retain a smidge of the oil they are fried in.

We enjoyed our amazing churros and by the time we glanced over at 11:05, we could see that a line had already formed for the lunch service. So in the spirit of “eat dessert first,” it was time to order lunch.

And what a lunch.

Xoco’s lunch menu is mostly tortas, Mexican sandwiches, and caldos, a cross between a soup and a stew. Both hearty, delicious and each one representative of a different region in Mexico.

Xoco Ahogada (Drowned) Torta

We shared an Ahogada (drowned) torta. It was made of pork carnitas, quite literally drowning in a tomato broth spiked with arbol chili and black beans. The bolla roll was thick, crunchy on the outside and chewy on the inside, the carnitas rich and satisfying and balanced with pickled onions. It was also really messy. Drip down your face messy. Not the kind of sandwich I want to eat with a client in my new silk blouse, Fellow FoodBeest. But perfect for us.

Xoco Seafood Caldos

We also had a seafood caldos, a big bowl of sweet red chile broth, thick with big shrimp, delicate mussels, catfish, potatoes and grilled onions. It fit my personal critera for a good soup: every spoonful included a nice hunk of what made it special: a bit of shrimp, a smidge of fish, a potato. A beautiful, thick pile of pea shoots graced the top and it was sprinkled with cilantro and lime for cooling and tang.

I know what you’re thinking, Fellow FoodBeest. “Not exactly breakfast food.” Nope, you’re right. But a great brunch and if parking wasn’t so difficult/expensive in that busy neighborhood, we’d be there much more often.

Breakfast options include seasonal empanadas, huevos rancheros, chilaquiles and breakfast tortas. And of course churros. And after all, Xoco, you had me at churros.

If I can’t be in Mexico this winter, I can enjoy Xoco. It may well be the most authentic, bestest Mexican street food outside of (or maybe even inside of) Mexico.

Waffles, 3617 N. Broadway, Chicago, IL

So I got this Groupon, Fellow FoodBeest. If you are unfamiliar, Groupon is a Chicago-based tech company that sends out daily “deals” by email. This one was for a new breakfast place called Waffles and since Mr. FB and I have a standing breakfast date almost every week I decided to buy it.

Waffles has two locations: one in the South Loop and one that just opened in Lakeview, a rather congested neighborhood that took root about 25 years ago as a haven for young singles right out of school. Lakeview is the most densely populated area in the entire Midwest. It contains both Wrigleyville [Cue Steve Goodman: “Go Cubs Go!”] and Chicago’s traditional “Boystown.”

We went to the Lakeview location. “We just want to do waffles – really amazing waffles,” says their website. Sounds like a FoodBeest place to me.

It was almost empty. Admittedly it was Thursday morning abound 10:30, but there was just us and a booth of two women “of a certain age” who we overheard talking to the waiter about their Groupon. Rather in the same boat we were in. The ambiance was plain, even diner-like, with very little to distinguish it.

The tables are made of chalkboard and a container of chalk sticks were on the table. Perfect if we were with kids. I took a yellow chalk and drew an “infinity” sign in the middle of the table. Perhaps I should see a therapist to determine the significance of that stream of consciousness.

The menu features two kinds of waffles: Belgian and Liege. Belgian waffles are the ones most of us are most familiar with: deep, light and crispy. Liege waffles are denser and chewier. The batter includes pearl sugar that makes them very sweet and caramelized.

The menu was promising. All kinds of interesting twists on waffles: most of them very sweet sounding (red velvet, Mexican chocolate), some savory and some just odd (green tea and albondigas – pork/lamb meatballs in a spicy tomato stew served over a Chihuahua cheese waffle, topped with mint).

For the record, non-waffle entrees that feature eggs are also available and include a torta, corned beef hash and eggs and a variety of omelets. But if a restaurant calls itself “Waffles,” and says all they want to do are really amazing waffles, it seems like a good idea to not stray too far from that.

Our Groupon was good for two entrees and two “flights” of hot chocolate.

Oddly, the hot chocolate flights were not on the menu and we had to ask about them. They were three tiny (2 oz) glass mugs of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream. The flavors were caramel, chocolate and peppermint. Not a big fan of super-sweet food or drink, I literally couldn’t drink more than a sip of the caramel without going into diabetic coma – and I am not diabetic.

We ordered two savory waffles to share.

Waffles Benedict at Waffles

The first was a waffle Benedict a waffle topped with roasted pork shoulder, poached eggs and a Hollandaise perked up with Aleppo peppers; and chicken and waffles with bacon in them. The Aleppo pepper, a fruity, mild Middle Eastern pepper was a nice touch in the Benedict, but the overall egg/Hollandaise left the waffle soggy so we didn’t get the nice crunch we had hoped for.

Chicken and Bacon Waffle at Waffles

Our other choice was the fried chicken and bacon waffle with a spicy maple syrup. Who doesn’t love fried chicken and waffles? The menu proudly declared that the bacon was in the waffle batter. A nice touch but not so unique we hadn’t even conceived of such a thing before.

The waffle was nicely crispy. Hooray. And it did contain bacon. Hooray2. The spice in the maple syrup a good idea, but undetectable. Not so hooray.

The chicken consisted of a thigh and drumstick (I do contend that dark meat is much tastier than white meat). Fried? Probably. Today? No. it looked like a lightly sautéed chicken (no batter) that I might have made yesterday (or the day before) that I took out of the fridge and reheated for a quick lunch. No hooray.

I really wanted to love this place, Fellow FoodBeest. The owner, Alex Hernandez, is the former manager of Japonais. The menu demonstrates that someone clearly has a commitment to interesting, satisfying, quality food. The quality of ingredients shows in the restaurant attributing the meats to a local purveyor. But it didn’t ring the bell for us. Interesting? For sure. A hit. No. Maybe we ordered badly. Maybe it’s early and they haven’t work out the bugs. But for us, the treck into Lakeview – while hardly strenuous – just wasn’t worth it.

Without Groupon: $49.17

The check for this, if we didn’t have our Groupon was $49.17. For Breakfast. At a diner-like joint in Lakeview. Before tip.

“If you’re going to buy Groupons,” opined Mr. FB after breakfast. “And you’re going to take me to these places, you’d better do a FoodBeest post on it.”

So here you have it.

Table 52, 52 W. Elm St., Chicago, IL

Table 52 serves very upscale Southern comfort food in a tiny space on Chicago’s Gold Coast. It is the Chicago restaurant of celebrity chef Art Smith. Smith has competed on Top Chef Masters twice and both he and his restaurant have been the darling of Chicago’s ultimate celebrity: Dame Oprah Winfrey.

I know Smith from his two appearances on TCM and he didn’t leave much of a positive impression me. And Oprah? Well, let’s jut say I’m not exactly a fan and leave it at that.

And why should I spend top dollar to get fried chicken and grits in a fancy location that I could get for a lot less at some place like Big Jones?

But Mr. FB was feeling romantic and went ahead and made a reservation on his own. Which was an awesome gesture, Fellow FoodBeest, and most appreciated. But Table 52? Really?

I didn’t want to like it. I went with a chip on my shoulder, but determined that I would be great so as not to spoil the romance Mr. FB had generated all on his own. We approached the front desk. They didn’t have our reservation. “Aha! I knew it,” I secretly thought.

“Don’t worry,” said the hostess, dripping with niceness. “We’ll have something for you in a few minutes.”

“Sure,” I thought, “if we stand here long enough.”

Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit. We were seated faster than green grass through a goose (within 10 minutes).

Deviled Eggs: Table 52′s Version of an Amuse Bouche

Our waiter greeted us promptly and served us a neat pair of rich, creamy deviled eggs topped with crunchy, curly celery and fennel shavings, the Table 52 version of an amuse bouche. Both the eggs and I would have been happy without the shavings, but the eggs, themselves were remarkably smooth and tangy. And besides, no respectable southern party would be complete without deviled eggs. Someone was smart enough to cut the bottoms off so that they sat flatly on the plate (unlike the deviled eggs I once brought to a party, that devilishly slid onto the front step as I stood waiting for the hosts to open the door).

We ate the eggs, the plate was wisked away and a few moment later, in a true Groundhog moment, another waiter brought us another plate of two rich, creamy deviled eggs topped with crunchy, curly celery and fennel shavings. “We had these,” we protested. He smiled, nice as a sunny day in June, and said, “well, enjoy these.”

“Do they have a communication problem?” we wondered as we held hands across the table and gazed, briefly into each other’s eyes. But not for long. The meal was very well timed and the next course was coming up.

Table 52 Kale and Brussels Sprout Slaw

We started with a kale and Brussels sprouts salad: a bright, crunchy slaw dressed with a delightful balance of acidic cider vinegar and sweet dates and punctuated with crispy pancetta. It was light and left us eager for the next course. In fact we were grinnin’ like a possum eatin’ a sweet tater.

Table 52 Tea-Braised Short Ribs

Mr. FB ordered a tea-braised short rib. It was served with carrots glazed in cider, cabbage and potatoes. I tried it. It was good, but it’s almost always hard to beat braised short rib, especially in the dead of winter.

Table 52 Perfectly Seared Sea Scallops

I had a nightly special of three perfectly seared diver scallops topped with tiny braised turnip slices and red caviar. Delicate. Satisfying. A Top Chef dish that left me happier than Ole Blue layin’ on the porch chewin’ on a big ole catfish head.

Cauliflower and Mushrooms in Cheese Sauce

Our favorite dish by far was a side of cauliflower and mushrooms in a gruyere cheese sauce topped with crispy crumbs. Very mac-and-cheese-like, but with slightly less guilt.

When we had eaten until we no longer could, a bus boy approached and asked if we wanted to take home the only thing that was uneaten: part of the cauliflower side. I looked at it for a moment and saw it as the beginnings of the savory bread pudding brunch it turned into the next day. We took it home.

Table 52 Hummingbird Cake

After a bit of negotiation, we decided on a Hummingbird Cake. Now, I have to tell you, Yankee that I am, I had never even heard of a Hummingbird Cake before. Turns out it is a towering, multi-layered affair that includes bananas and pineapple and is frosted with a rich cream cheese icing. I may never eat it again. I will almost certainly never attempt it, but what the heck? Why leave it for the birds?

I would never have chosen Table 52, Fellow FoodBeest, but slap my head and call me silly if we didn’t go home happy as a dead pig in the sunshine and full as a tick.

So there I am, Fellow FoodBeest, standing in the kitchen during dinner at El Ideas – well, hanging out in the kitchen would actually be more accurate – with other diners while we watched one of the chefs holding a white plate with a very dark brown rather phallic-shaped thing on it.

“It’s a banana,” he said, gazing down at it “Roasted for four hours in bourbon and vanilla bean.” It tastes a lot like bourbon and vanilla.”

“But very starchy,” added Chef Phillip Foss, El Ideas’ chef/owner. At another, more traditional fine dining restaurant, he would have been the executive chef. “Throw it away,” he added and turned to attend to something else.

As we learned this weekend at El Ideas, the chefs spend much of their time playing with their food. And to the ultimate good benefit of those of us who have eaten there.

El Ideas, situated on a tiny no-account street south of Roosevelt Rd and just west of Western Ave. in Chicago’s University Village (I didn’t even know such a neighborhood existed), breaks a lot of the rules.

We arrived at 6:07 (having gotten lost trying to find it) and then had to knock on the locked door to be admitted for our 6 pm reservation, the only seating of the night.

The kitchen at El Ideas dominates the restaurant.

The open kitchen dominates the room. In fact, the entire restaurant is essentially a huge kitchen with a very few tables scattered between the door and the kitchen. It seats 22 guests. They have just expanded having added a four-top table.

Guests are welcome to help out or just hang out in the kitchen at El Ideas.

And between – or during – the 12-course tasting, guests are encouraged to populate the kitchen, gab with the staff of (3) chefs and a dishwasher, and even help plate the food. I scattered dried cranberries on one of the courses and when I returned to the table, Mr. FB inquired whether they had asked me to wash my hands first.

First Course: “egg”

The first course was several variations on “egg,” including chawanmushi, a Japanese savory custard and salmon roe. A touch of soy sauce and a swab of yuzo add salty and sour elements. And every bit a work of art for the eyes as for the palate.

Second Course: “scallop”

Then came a single perfectly – and I do mean perfectly – sautéed scallop on a cauliflower puree with a bit of curried tomato sauce.

Third Course: “sturgeon”

Then came a small piece of sturgeon, encrusted with bone marrow and served with a bit of butternut squash and tiny skinned champagne grapes. Who thinks of crusting fish with bone marow, Fellow FoodBeest? Chef Foss does, apparently.

Fourth Course: “octopus”

Next a sautéed and flamed octopus salad with a bit of dressed frisse lettuce, kohlrabi and blue cheese.

Fifth Course: “foie”

Try and imagine nitrogen-frozen foie gras so cold it could shatter, but in the warmth of your mouth melts to an agonizing pleasure. It is served with a tiny crispy oat cake, a banana noodle and dried cranberries (plated by moi!).

Fifth Course: “mushroom”

There are moments during a great dinner when I close my eyes, the better to savor the flavor and/or texture I am experiencing. This was one of those moments. Three different kinds of wild mushrooms in a joyful menage-a-trois on my plate.

Seventh Course: “lamb”

I know that rare lamb is highly preferable to well-done lamb, but I would have preferred this lamb to have had a little more time near some heat. The chef extolled the joys of the lamb fat, but not for me. I cut it off and left it on the plate.

Eighth Course: “trotters”

My least favorite course all night. A silver-dollar sized fried disk of chopped unidentified pig parts  garnished with tiny cucumber slices and carrot and pepper strips. It tasted – porky – and unpleasant to me. And then I bit into a piece of pork gristle embedded in the disk. Not pleased.

Ninth Course: “ribeye”

A piece of Wagu ribeye. Wagu is a Japanese breed and style of raising cattle to ensure a high percentage of unsaturated fat (the good kind), ensuring a very tender very flavorful beef. It was served with black garlic, scallions and scallion ash. If only this had come earlier in the progression. Amazing flavor, but I barely had room to taste it. Still, we weren’t done.

Tenth Course: “pistachio”

A cheese course featuring “robbiola” cheese, fresh pistachios and quince. Robiola (one or two “b”s? not sure.) is a luscious soft cheese from northern Italy.

Eleventh Course: “prickly pear”

Part of this was exactly what I wanted. It was a refreshing, palate-cleansing sorbet of prickly pear, along with a (for me) too-rich chocolate fudgey square. I do have my limits, Fellow FoodBeest, and I was well past them at this point.

Twelfth Course: “old fashioned.”

Finishing up with an decomposed ice cream sundae. The ice cream was astronaut-like nitrogen-frozen bits of vanilla base on top of a kind of hot-fudge chocolate sauce, some cherry sauce and topped with a fruit leather. I poked at it. Tasted it. Laughed at it. And appreciated its whimsey.

Chicago is the center of something extraordinary happening in the world of cuisine and El Ideas is a vital part of it. It is every bit as much of an experience as a meal. $135/person, BYOB.

The entire experience could be viewed as a pretentious and self-indulgent experience. It could also be viewed as an extraordinarily creative work of performance and culinary art. And either way, Fellow FoodBeest, it’s a function of your personal point of view about the purpose and role of food in our lives.

Il Ideas had its failed courses, but it also included some of the most interesting, delicious and delightful food I’ve ever eaten. And it was intentionally iconoclastic and fun. Front of the House Manager Bill Talbot told us they are already booked up through the end of the year and are now taking reservations into 2013.

Takashi, 1952 North Damen Avenue Chicago

This town enjoys more than its share of good restaurants, Fellow FoodBeest. A city recently designated as a destination for extraordinary food experiences, Chicago is a veritable Disneyland for foodies at all levels from deep dish pizza to Italian beef sandwiches, and Chicago-style hot dogs to some of the best and most creative farm-to-table or slow food restaurants on up through Alinea, considered by many to be the best restaurant in the United States.

Once in a while you come upon a place – or a meal – or a dish – that you put forever into a silver box to open occasionally and recall with warmth and affection. We hit just such a silver box occasion last Saturday night when we walked into to Takashi, Chef Takashi Yagahashi’s contemporary restaurant that utilizes both French and Japanese flavors and techniques and is just a few blocks from our house.

As we entered the small (or perhaps you say “intimate”) and causal space, and were led to our table, a nice-looking well-dressed lady looked up from the table next to ours. I glanced at the woman dumbly and blankly as she called out our names. Who the heck is she? How does she know us?

Oh, that was Jane, the lovely vet who has ministered to our myriad cats and dogs over many years through their good times and failing times. I had never seen her without animals and there she sat, dining on fine food, drinking good wine and celebrating a wedding anniversary with her husband. Just like a regular person. Duh.

Mr. FB and I were at Takashi celebrating our own wedding anniversary with James and Anne, friends of ours for two- maybe three decades. Mr. FB and I now have 32 (no, that’s not a typo!) years under our growing belts.

Between the four us, as a couple and as long-time friends, we’ve shared dozens of experiences, including myriad celebrations. Thousands of dinners, both great and questionable. Thousands of glasses of wine. Hundreds of inquiries and conversations and disagreements. Hundreds of times to fall back in love or comfort with each other.

When Jane and her hubby left, obviously sated and happy, suddenly Carolyn and Mark appeared and were seated at the same table next to us. We didn’t know them – at least not in the first five minutes, but suddenly there we all were, chatting away, sharing stories and biographies and food opinions and anecdotes like we’d known each other forever. Carolyn, a food writer and a personal friend of Chef Takashi, found herself in good company as they were there to celebrate Mark’s birthday.

My own familiarity with Chef Takashi comes from a recent Top Chef Masters season during which I was especially taken with Chef Takashi as an extraordinarily gracious generous and graceful man whose food was highly praised for its subtlety and complexity.

Chef Takashi In Control of the Kitchen

Chef Takashi left his post where he was expediting at the kitchen to stop by our table several times, posed for pictures and chatted. He moves with the smoothness of Jimmy Stewart so that he looks like he’s on wheels or ice skates. He has the charm and appeal of Cary Grant, although maybe quieter.

And that his culinary skills were no illusion as our dinner was about prove, I had seen (but not tasted) on that show was borne out that night. But I’m getting ahead of myself, Fellow FoodBeest.

I want to cook like he does. I want to learn what he knows. What would it take to have that artistic and culinary sensibility and have it packaged with his charm and grace? I asked our waitress if he ever conducted master classes, but, “no,” he doesn’t do that.

Our table agreed to bypass the prix fixe tasting menu because it didn’t come close to including everything we wanted to taste.

James suggested that we order five appetizers so we did. For the four of us. Good call. We couldn’t have done without any one of them.

Salad of Duck Confit with Duck Prosciutto

A salad of duck confit and duck prosciutto was as wonderful as we had expected. What we didn’t expect was the best lentils any of us had ever tasted. French lentils cooked just to that point where the bite was gone. The killer was the deep sweet and sour flavor, of those lentils, an aigre-douce resulting from a marriage of yuzu and mirin. Never tasted anything like it.

Luscious Foie Gras Appetizer

Two other outstanding apps were the mouth-luscious seared foie gras with poached kumquat and pears and a huckleberry reduction and the crispy veal sweetbreads (what exactly are sweetbreads again?) over wilted lettuce

The cold peekytoe crab and avocado with beets provided a refreshing break from richness and the pork belly with a soy-ginger caramel and steamed buns were a perfectly deconstructed (and enhanced) Chinese pork bun.

Skatewing at Takashi

Our entrees included my skate wing (one of my favorite fishes) earning points for being nicely crisped but losing some when overcooking it left the flesh a bit dry.

Chicken in a Clay Pot at Takashi

Anne had a chicken in a clay pot entree, an Amish Chicken with Shimeji Mushrooms, Eggplant, and Hvaricot vert with Yuzu Juice that tasted as subtle and textured as its name sounded mundane and boring. Mr. FB enjoyed one of my favorites of the evening, a seared loin of veal served on a gratin of spring Oonion, couscous, asparagus and bacon with preserved lemon-caper brown butter. If he hadn’t claimed “dibs” on it first, I would would have eaten it. And James, lover of duck that he is, had the duck breast entree.

This was a silver box dinner not to be forgotten.

Special thanks to Anne for the photographs. She has a wonderful eye that gets better all the time.

Bakin’ & Eggs 3120 North Lincoln Ave. Chicago

Breakfast. Your mother may have told you it’s the most important meal of the day, Fellow FoodBeest.

Brunch. My personal favorite meal of the week.

Me and Mr. FB have a standing breakfast/brunch date on Thursday mornings. Usually after a morning work0out, we use the time to catch up on our schedules, on what’s happening in our lives that we’ve been too busy to talk about at other times and it’s just been a nice relaxing time to count on being together.

So we’ve found a lot of good restaurants that specialize in breakfasts – and some pretty mediocre ones. We love Jam and M. Henry and The Bongo Room among others. Sometimes we go to convenient neighborhood joints like Nookies or Toast or Kitsch’n.

Recently Mitchell’s, one of original Chicago’s Greek-style diners with a reliable, inexpensive breakfast and lunch menu, closed. Without warning. Not that it was great, but for us it was a little like losing an old friend.

But now there’s relatively new joint in our town that may be taking its place. It has been promoting itself heavily. Bakin’ & Eggs on Lincoln Avenue just east of Ashland was featured on PBS’s viewer/reviewer restaurant show, Check Please! This week B&E had a half-priced Groupon so breakfast for us that day was a gimme.

What Bakin’ & Eggs is not is cozy. We wandered into a big, well-lit almost cafeteria-feeling room. Reports are that they fill up on weekends. But midmorning on a Thursday we had no problem getting in.

It’s also not tony. No mimosas or $35/plate spreads. To their credit, they do serve strong – very strong – Intelligentsia coffee

Finally, B&E is not cutting edge. If you’re looking for green tea/raspberry coulis pancakes or ramp and cheese biscuits or pork belly and goat cheese baked eggs, this is not for you. But for a decent basic breakfast, its … fine. It does feature bacon flights (yes, you read that right). Bacon flights – like wine flights. Maple peppered bacon. Jalapeno bacon. Honey bacon. Cherry smoked bacon. Mesquite bacon.

How wrong can you go with bacon, Fellow FoodBeest?

Bacon and Buttermilk Pancakes at Bakin’ & Eggs

I had the bacon pancakes. They were not disappointing: three enormous tangy buttermilk batter pancakes highlighted generously with decent-sized pieces of bacon – not bacon crumbs that tease you with what might have been possible – and topped another strip of bacon on top. They were served with whipped butter, maple syrup and berry preserves.

Spinach, Mushroom and Mozzarella Fritatta at Bakin’ & Eggs

Mr. FB had a massive frittata (open-face omelet) with spinach, mushrooms and mozzarella cheese (a substitute for the gruyere on the menu). It was easily made with four eggs. That came with bacon (of course) and toast and the choice of grits, potatoes or a big dish of fresh fruit salad.

Portions were huge. I’m a pretty good eater, but I could barely get through a pancake and a half. Good thing Mr. FB was there to polish it off.

B&E was far from the best or the most creative or the most interesting or the most brilliantly prepared food we’ve ever eaten. It was also far from the most romantic spot we’ve ever been in. It won’t rock your world. But it’s in the ‘hood. It’s reasonable and easy and inexpensive. And filling. And sometimes that’s all you want.

Have a great day.

An American could easily sell his (or her) jeans on the street to a Frenchman or a German who was eager for a pair of Levi’s – the more used the better.  And their shoes were different. Chunkier. Solid working-man’s looking shoes with thick soles.  Except for the Italians, of course, who wore shoes with very thin soles and very pointy toes.

And then there was a period where you could spot a European at a glance because they were setting the trends. Hair colors not found in nature.  Brighter colors. Bleeding edge fashion. We wondered at the syles and knew we’d be wearing them on our shores in six months or a year.

In those days you could tell at a glance who was European and who was American. No more. The world has changed. A new reality has emerged. Just try to spot an American on the streets of London or Amsterdam or Munich. You can’t. Any more than you can spot a European visitor in any U.S. city.

As you may know, Fellow FoodBeest, there was also a time when New York was where you went in this country when you wanted to taste “really good” food. Dinner for the rest of us – especially in our pedestrian Midwest world – was meatloaf and macaroni and cheese (mostly from the blue box) or fried chicken with a side of vegetables from a frozen square box and a baked potato. Today we call that “comfort food.”

If you wanted “gourmet food,” you went to New York where you could get Chock-Full-O-Nuts coffee and exotic stuff like Cuban Chinese food. The rest-of-us knew that the food in New York was expensive, but it was special. My parents came home from New York rhapsodizing for days about Mama Leone’s Lobster Diablo. And there was Sardis. And the Carnegie Deli. And Peter Luger’s steak house. You simply couldn’t get that at home.

But here, too, is a new reality.

So there we were in New York yesterday – me and Mr. FB and his brother and sister-in-law – wanting to get that special New York approach to food. Just one day. Fewer than 24-hours. One lunch/brunch and one dinner.

But we’re from Chicago, Fellow FoodBeest. Chicago is where Grant Achatz thrills the (upscale and adventurous) world with astonishing molecular gastronomy at Alinea and sells tickets to NeXT where the food style and menu take a dramatic transformation every three months (Escoffier to Thailand to “childhood”).  Chicago is where Top Chef winners and near-winners open their inventive and brilliant restaurants. It’s the city where Rick Bayless introduced Americans to regional Mexican cuisine that sent those of us reeling for whom Mexican food meant the corner taco joint. Chicago is the home of Charlie Trotter (who started the whole thing there) and Tru and Everest on one end – and brilliant inventive gastropubs and little Vietnam and great burgers on the other.

So there we are in New York together. Two Chicago chowhounds looking for culinary adventure and two vegetarians for whom food is a pleasant and basic necessity for iife.

I did my research as I always do before we travel. Picked out several restaurants as both lunch and dinner options and ran them past everyone to be sure everyone was getting what they wanted; what they needed. And even so, I knew that the Times Square area is expensive and tourist-driven and not home to the most imaginative food in town. Still.

Brunch rezies at Norma in the Parker Meridian for a classic, if whimsical and overpriced Midtown Manhattan-style brunch before we hit the MoMA.

Egg White Frittata at Norma’s

Get the shrimp egg white frittata urged our waiter. It was fine. It was good. It had roasted Roma tomatoes and spinach and long inedible chives fronds growing out of it. I just could get it anywhere.

Norma’s Eggs with Corncakes and Chroizo

Mr. FB had corncakes with a fried egg and (Spanish) chorizo.

Norma’s 3 Potato Pancakes: $21.

B-I-L had $21 potato pancakes – three of them ($7 each?) with an awesome pumpkin puree and cranberry apple sauce.

Great breakfast/brunch food at home (Longman & Eagle, Jam, Publican, Bongo Room and more) that was indistinguishable from anything we had at Norma’s– except for the price and maybe the bragging rights.

Our original dinner reservation was for Esca, a Mario Batali Italian fish restaurant. I’ve eaten there before and thought it was brilliant. But the vegetarians we love couldn’t find things on the menu that worked for them. so we changed to a place right around the block from the theater. Bearing in mind that the Times Square neighborhood is not the best place for great food in Manhattan, we wound up at a place called Scarlatto.

The best things about Scarlatto are that:
It was close to the theater.
It was inexpensive.
We didn’t leave hungry.
We didn’t get sick.

Don’t bother.  Hundreds – maybe thousands of restaurants – around the country with comparably competent food.  Nothing most of you couldn’t make in your own kitchen. Salad. Pasta with mushrooms. A piece of fish with overcooked broccoli.

Made it clear to me why most people don’t bother themselves much with food.

So the landscape has changed. New York is no longer the only/best place to eat in this country. The top – Daniel, Le Bernadin, Per Se and the like are expensive and serve seriously great food. Better than Trotter or Tru or Alinea? Maybe. Maybe not. Different? Yep. And in the middle or lower end Chicago, and other cities, no longer take second place.

And we really do get that we have the privilege of living and eating in one of the most amazing food meccas in the country.

But the truth is that the world has changed here, too. It is smaller. It is more sophisticated. It is more worldly. You can get actual ice in your iced tea in London. And mind-boggling world-class food in Chicago.

And New York doesn’t look as special. Except when it does.

Baked Eggplant, Zucchini & Tomato Gratin

I went on a Julia Child binge last week, Fellow FoodBeest. I was inspired by her 100th birthday after all. I drug out my old, beaten-up, nearly falling-apart copies of both volumes of Mastering the Art of French Cooking from the 70s. Then I went on Amazon bought a grand spankingly new and beautiful paperback copy of The Way To Cook.

Finally, I went into the kitchen with a purpose and set about making one of her seasonal recipes: Eggplant, Tomato and Zucchini Gratin.

A gratin is nothing more than a French culinary technique or preparation in which an ingredient is topped with a browned crust, often using breadcrumbs, grated cheese, (sometimes egg and/or butter). This one relies on the intensity of fresh, seasonal produce. You can make it out-of-season; it’s just that the results won’t be quite the same.

Then I made her blackberry claufuti. But that’s a conversation for another day.

The gratin has a lovely balance. The eggplant provides a rich soft creaminess, the zucchini a little more crunch and the tomatoes add brightness. The cheese and breadcrumbs are earthy and give the dish cohesiveness – kind of like using the same carpeting in the whole house even when the room colors are different.

What You Need to Make Eggplant, Tomato and Zucchini Gratin
Extra virgin olive oil (about ¼ cup)
1 medium eggplant (about 3/4 pounds)
1½ t herbes de Provence
Kosher salt and freshly ground pepper
2 medium zucchinis, (about 3/4 pound)
2 ripe tomatoes – the best you can find, preferably home grown or heirloom (about ½ pound)
½ C freshly ground breadcrumbs [I used packaged panko]
½ C grated Parmesan cheese

What It Takes to Make Eggplant, Tomato and Zucchini Gratin
Preheat oven to 400 °F. Spread a baking sheet or jelly roll pan (the pan with the lip all around) with a tablespoon or two of the olive oil.

Brush Eggplant Slices with Olive Oil and Sprinkle with Herbs de Provence

Trim off the ends of the eggplant and slice it on the diagonal into ovals just under ½-inch thick. Lay the slices on the sheet, brush lightly with oil, and turn them over. Arrange in a single layer and sprinkle lightly with salt and ½ teaspoon of herbes de Provence.

Bake for about 15 minutes until the eggplant slices are soft and beginning to shrivel. Cool briefly. Leave the oven on if you will be baking the gratin right away.

Brush Zucchini Slices With Olive Oil and Sprinkle With Salt & Pepper

Meanwhile, trim the ends off the zucchini and slice them lengthwise into slices no more than ¼-inch thick. A mandolin, if you have it, is useful here.

Use the Best Tomatoes You Can Find

Core the tomatoes and cut them into slices ¼-inch thick. Spread out all of the slices and sprinkle them lightly with salt and freshly ground pepper to taste.

Alternate Overlapping Slices of the Vegetables in a Baking dish

Spray an 8-cup oval or rectangular baking dish with cooking spray (or you can cover with olive oil). Sprinkle a teaspoon of herbes de Provence all over the bottom. Lay one or two eggplant slices across the narrow end of the dish. Follow with two or three tomato slices overlapping the eggplant, and then a layer of zucchini slices. Arrange each new row so the top of the previous row is visible. Continue layering until all the vegetables are used in alternating rows.

Sprinkle With Mixture of Breadcrumbs, Grated Cheese and Olive Oil

Mix together the breadcrumbs, Parmesan cheese, and 1 teaspoon herbes de Provence. Add 2 tablespoons of olive oil and mix with your fingers until the crumbs just hang together a bit. Sprinkle the crumb mixture evenly over the gratin and drizzle the top with a tablespoon or two of olive oil.

Bake for 40 minutes in the center of the oven until the vegetables are soft, the juices are bubbling, and the top is a deep golden brown. If the top needs more browning, you can put it under the broiler for a few seconds.

Serve hot or at room temperature, directly from the baking dish.

Thank you, Julia.

We live in one of the hottest micro-neighborhoods in the city of Chicago. What characterizes it is Holstein Park, a huge park with a field house, a swimming pool and a state-of-the art playground. And it’s just a block from our house.

This neighborhood has had shifting identities for years. At one time it was home to German immigrants with street names like Berlin and Munich. Those were all changed during World War II to names like Shakespeare and Dickens and Charleston.

More recently, it was a sketchy enclave of Appalachians who moved north to the city. On Independence Day neighbors didn’t hear firecrackers going off, but real guns being shot into the air. Stay out of the way.

My friend Angela was once director of Holstein Park. Back in her day, she can tell great stories about how the park was a prime location for gang bangers scoring drugs.

But all of that is gone and Holstein Park had its Centennial Celebration this weekend. We were there. There was a schedule of bands all day and kids activities but what made this neighborhood party special were the 15 food trucks parked around the corner from our house.

I was thrilled Fellow FoodBeest.

Food trucks are the rage for gourmet treats around the country. But here in Chicago, they have been subject to strict regulations that keep them limited. No parking near a brick-and-mortar restaurant. No cooking whatsoever has been allowed on the truck. Even squeezing fresh lemon juice on food on a truck in Chicago would be a violation.

What can you serve – that is worth eating – if you have to cook it that far in advance?

Masked Server on Tamales Spaceship Food Truck at Holstein Park

A total treat. So we decided to sample for our lunch. First the tamales at the Tamalespaceship food truck. Great-sounding tamales representing various regions in Mexico. They were served by a man wearing a big black sombrero and what appeared to be a really cool full-face plastic mask that must have been very hot that day.

Pollo and Pork Tamales from the Spaceship

Mr. FB got a “Picturesque Tamal de Puerco.” It was described as a Yucatecan-style roasted pork tamale with tomato-habanero sauce and purple pickled onions. Mine was “No One’s Tamale de Pollo:” a chicken-barbacoa style tamal topped with Michoacán green peanut mole sauce. They were served side-by-side in a little paper carton.

Now bear in mind, Fellow FoodBeest, it was a very hot day. Very hot. Insufferably hot – temperatures well into the 90s with serious humidity. The tamales were good – I would eat them again for sure, but given the weather, they were terribly heavy. Another day, another weather report and for sure another tamale. Not that day.

But were we done? No way. Fifteen food trucks in our neighborhood. We had more to do. On your behalf, of course, Fellow FoodBeest.

Slide Ride Food Truck at Holstein Park

Next stop: the Slide Ride Food Truck, serving teeny little gourmet sliders. We ordered a Guinness: a miniature Angus Beef burger with melted provolone cheese, Guinness, and caramelized onions on an eensy-weensy sesame bun. Now bear in mind that these sliders (as all food on Chicago food trucks) have to be cooked before they are loaded into the truck and kept warm. The Guinness had the potential to be good, but the bun had turned spongy and a little slimy. Blame-not the food truck, Fellow Chicago FoodBeest. Blame your alderman.

5411 Empanadas Food Truck at Holstein Park

Next stop for us was the 5411 Empanada truck. At this point, sweating like hogs and having already consumed two bottles of water neither of us could bear the thought of anything with meat in it.

Ratatouille Empanada

Sweet Corn Empanada

We ordered a ratatouille empanada and a sweet corn empanada with red peppers, sautéed onions, and white sauce, seasoned with nutmeg. Oddly, the ratatouille had no tomato in it (perhaps because the juice of the tomato would have bled through). Instead it had carrot chunks to give it some color. The fillings were thoughtfully created and tasty although the ratatouille had a bit too much nutmeg for me. When they were first cooked, I suspect the original pastry crust was crispy and flaky, but after the time it spent wrapped in foil, it had simply steamed itself into a sad state of sog.

Flirty Cupcake Specials

Still, I wasn’t done. Flirty Cupcake was my next choice. Can’t go wrong with a cupcake. And this time I was right. I ordered a Flirtin’ Special: a small champagne cupcake with champagne strawberry filling and a real, fresh strawberry surprise hiding in the middle. Amazing. Great frosting (admittedly it’s hard to go wrong with butter and sugar). But this was awesome. Clearly cupcakes can stand the heat.

The city of Chicago is making noises that has it appear to be on the verge of – finally – legalizing mobile food trucks in designated areas, and even permitting on-truck cooking in spite of the politics and objections of the local restaurant industry. We certainly hope so.

Do you have experience with food trucks, Fellow FoodBeest? Ours is so limited. Please share yours in the comment section below.

A few years ago it was cupcakes. Then they ran their course and eventually jumped the shark with the Food Network running endless cupcake challenge shows. Seriously?

Today it’s doughnuts (or perhaps you say donuts) as the sweet-treat of choice, at least here in Chicago. In addition to ole Dunkin, and some of the old standby bakeries like Dinkels in Roscoe Village who are known for their donuts, donut holes-in-the wall featuring “gourmet” donuts are opening everywhere.

Do-Rite Donuts
Doughnut Vault
Bleeding Heart Bakery
Dirty Betty’s
Dat Donut

So when Glazed and Infused (get it, Fellow FoodBeest? Glazed and Infused? Sorry, it took me a minute.) opened a walk-up in my neighborhood, I had to give it a try.

It was a Tuesday morning around 9:30 when I headed for the little window right next to (or inside of?) Francesca’s Forno on one of the six corners at Damen, Milwaukee and North. A line of maybe six people wound along the sidewalk toward the el track. Was it a mob on weekends?

The press release was effusive (well, it’s a press release after all).

“Made fresh every hour,” it said.
“Whole and natural locally grown ingredients,” it said.
“No trans-fats,” it said.
“Each donut has a unique twist,” it said.
“Two top-tier pastry chefs,” it said.

I couldn’t wait to try these.

I stood by watching while people ordered chocolate and classics and red velvet and crème brulée and maple bacon and apple fritter and pb&j bismark with jelly filling and peanut topping. Then it was my turn. The donuts in the window didn’t look like the ones that accompanied the press release. They didn’t look like the donuts on the website either. They looked a little tired. And not like they had just popped out of the oven.

I went a little out of my mind when I tasted the bacon-bourbon glazed doughnut at Bleeding Heart so I was looking forward to the maple glazed bacon long john. I also ordered an old fashioned buttermilk cake donut and a raspberry glazed, a raised donut with a Barbie pink raspberry frosting (they call it glaze) with streaks of raspberry jam decorating the top.

I took them home to share them with Mr. FB. And so I could test them. In service of you, Fellow FoodBeest.

But wait. The bacon one is just a long john with a glazy maple frosting and a single crummy strip of bacon on top. They didn’t even bother to break up the bacon and scatter on the top. Disappointed.

I took a bit of it. Sweet. Very sweet. At least the slightly salty bacon cut the sweetness of the glaze a little. And oily. I was left with a healthy non-trans-fatty coating of grease in my mouth. Ick.

They were all sweet. Unpleasantly sweet for me. And a little heavy. This was all much better at the concept stage than the reality. Just because something is sweet and fried doesn’t mean I’m going to love it. If I’m going to eat some fried sugary confection, I want to be bowled over with bliss. And I wasn’t.

Admittedly, they were a little better after a about 10 seconds in the microwave. And while I’ll probably try other donut joints, I am not at all glazed and infused – more like dazed and confused. I’m certainly not crazed and amused and I am very rapidly losing interest in this donut rage.

Does anyone have a cupcake?