Chicago’s Alinea: Dinner for two, $650, and worth it!
Time for the initial installment in “what I did on my summer vacation.” We spent five days in Chicago, staying for free (sort of) in a loft in the South Loop, so of course the $$$ “saved” went to food. Two life-altering-quality meals, two very good meals and a lot of walking.
My on-vacation thoughts about what’s been touted as the best restaurant in America, Alinea:
Anyone with a subscription to any of the food mags knows about Grant Achatz, former protegé of Thomas Keller at the French Laundry, whose cooking has sometimes been classified as applied molecular gastronomy, or just plain ol’ “sci-fi cooking.”
My cousin and his wife, who live in Oak Park, are restaurant nuts, so we’ve been talking about getting to Alinea for years now. I managed to get reservations just two weeks in advance for the “Tasting,” the shorter (only 14 courses) of the two choices for one’s meal.
I should also note that I wasn’t “working” for this meal, which means I took no notes. (OK, I’m an addict — I did punch a few thoughts into my BlackBerry.) So most of this is from memory.
Alinea is on North Halsted, just above the Steppenwolf Theatre. We took the train to within a few blocks and walked up, but we would have missed the place entirely if not for the sandwich-board marking the valet parking stop. The building itself is unmarked, and when I walked through the main doors, my first impression was that of a very elegant carnival funhouse — the hallway seemed to taper into a much-too-small door at the other end. As we walked toward that small door, however, high-tech pocket doors whooshed open to our left, almost but not quite emulating the Star Trek turbolift noise.
We were seated on the second floor in an area with about five tables and a decor that was elegantly sedate, but made sure that nothing distracted you from the main show on your plate.
And what a show! It’s not just flavor — it’s an entire sensory experience. Starting from the amuse, drawn from three courses on the longer menu, Achatz makes you use all of your senses, including your sense of humor. The amuse used flavor as utensils: a lemongrass stalk for a petite oyster with sesame and yuzu; a vanilla bean for steelhead roe with coconut and lime; and a bay branch as a skewer for king crab with avocado. Just as that course was cleared, a square linen pillow — yes, a pillow — became the holder for a cream of fava beans, lavender and pecorino, served in what looked like a double shot glass, but with no bottom, such that the servers lifted it and let the flavor layers combine. The weight of the course pushed down on the pillow, which was filled with lavender-scented air.
A few courses later, a short rib course reminded me most of the Japanese kaiseki style — tiny, jewel like elements, including an impossibly thin Guinness aspect, arranged meticulously around the plate. Another recurring motif throughout the meal was the juxtaposition of hot and cold, but the most striking aspect (other than the incredible choices of flavor combinations) was the hardware — a pin linking two different types of potatoes and a slice of black truffle, for example. Put it in your mouth, pull the pin and BOOM! The flavor explodes.
Each course has come back to me in my sleep every night in the week since our meal, and I’ll probably remember more about the frozen sheafs of Wagyu beef hanging between chopsticks before being served with a morel and a smoked date, or the remarkable combination of duck confit, chocolate, blueberry and chile. But the final note I’ll make in blog length is the wine pairing. If you ever get to Alinea, let them pick for you. It’s about 100 bucks — the price of two moderate bottles — but the pairings border on genius. At the very end, for example, a whole wheat crunch was paired with a Recioto di Soave. The dessert wine on its own wasn’t terribly appealing, but the dessert was only mildly sweet (and cut with chervil, no less), and the caramelly character of the wine integrated perfectly.
That’s probably the third or fourth highest-priced meal I’ve ever had, but unlike some previous vacation splurges, I came away feeling like it was worth every penny.
Coming soon: Reflections on Avec, run by another of Food & Wine magazine’s Best New Chefs in America.


(1 votes, average: 4 out of 5)
Joe Bonwich has been the restaurant critic for the Post-Dispatch since 2002 and has covered the local food scene for various publications for more than 25 years. He does his best to maintain his anonymity so that he isn't recognized in restaurants (which is why his picture looks like it does).
Ridiculous. Money wasted for something that will pass through your system the same as a bowl of Spaghetti-O’s.