I Have a New Favorite...

Kids, we have a new winner. Last night I had my best meal in Chicago. Here goes.

At the risk of sounding amazingly pretentious, I'm kinda sick of tasting menus. Somebody just give me a whole meal of food please? Well, ask and you shall receive. In an adorable brownstone on Ontario sits a quaint little french restaurant called Les Nomades. This place used to be a blueblood private club, and was assumed by the current proprietor (a charming lady named Mary Beth, who greets each guest as they arrive) in the early 1990s. The chef has been updated, but the place has consistently gotten high accolade. Strangely, it sits next to a lackluster Japanese place, a low-end nail salon, and a suspicious piano bar.

When the meal started, I was a bit wary. The waiter, came over with the amuse bouche (a delicious cauliflower soup with white truffle foam and gruyere gougeres...cheese puffs for you and me). He set it down, without any fanfare and said, "Here's some cauliflower soup." Now, I'm kind of particular, but there was clearly more on my plate than soup. For the price of your tip, do me the grand gesture of telling me what you've brought me. Super annoying. So, in typical Jackie fashion, I called the guy back over to the table, and asked if he would tell me more about the dish he had just served me. He pointed to a leaf on the left side of my plate and said, "There are some microgreens." No shit, Sherlock. Don't screw with me. The roll of my eyes finally got his attention, and after that, he did a much better job. Amazing how one lackluster staff member can come close to wrecking a perfectly good meal. So glad that things turned around, because if this phenomenal food had been detracted by a guy with bad hair, I would have been super mad.

Back to the food. I started with a sampling of five house-made pates. Have I mentioned how much I love pate? The squab liver was the best one. Then on to an asparagus salad with a perfectly poached egg, coated in crispy breadcrumbs, topped with jamon serrano and shaved Parmesan cheese. If you've read my earlier posts, you know how I feel about beautifully cooked eggs, not to mention Iberian ham.

But here is where it gets exceptional. The chef went off the menu that night and served me the most delicious Dover sole I have ever had. If there is Dover sole on a menu, I can't NOT order it. This little guy was deboned in the kitchen and served with a lobster cognac sauce and morel mushrooms. It was utterly perfect. I didn't even want to talk to anyone because I wanted to remember the flavors. I could eat it every day. Which, in summary, makes it my best bite in Chicago so far.

I finished the meal with a cheese course (some really interesting artisanal selections), a light and pretty apple tart, and a glass of Madeira. Perfection.

I can't afford to come back to this place (it unexpectedly broke the bank), but I wish I could. Save it for special occasions, and come on Thursdays, when I understand you can BYOB (despite their lengthy wine list...this has to be a mistake, right?). AMAZING food, right in my 'hood. Who knew?