Somehow I’ve gotten a reputation as a professional againster. People say that I don’t like anything and I don’t mind telling you so; that I’m characteristically unimpressed. It’s true that of all the critical duties I’m responsible for I most hate declaring anything “the best.” (Because what if it isn’t?) I don’t OMG at dinner, I’ve never eaten anything I would vow “to die for,” and the word “killer” as an expression of approval makes me homicidal.
Best of Chicago voting is live now. Vote for your favorites »
I know, I know, Lincoln Square’s Thai storefront Rainbow Cuisine wasn’t new in 2013, but it was new to me, and to a whole lot of other people who religiously and regularly packed into its tiny dining room to devour the food of Wanpen Phosawang, a former cook at Spoon who struck out on her own with a dishwasher and her engaging husband, Pramote Rukprueksachart. If there’s one dish that encapsulates the dazzling array of flavors and textures Phosawang summons it’s her naem khao tod, “a masterful balance of textures—fryer-fused clumps of alternately puffed, crunchy, and soft rice, spiced with red curry paste, chiles, fish sauce, and sugar, and mixed with peanuts, slivers of fresh ginger, and bits of raw soured pork,” I wrote in my review. “The first person to market this dish as a movie-theater snack will make a fortune.”
Japanese food was everywhere, for better or worse, but two places stood out in a sea of pretenders as exemplars of purity and tradition. Noodle slingers all over the city got a tough lesson in how it’s done when the highly focused Japanese chain Ramen Misoya set up shop in a Mount Prospect strip-mall storefront; it’s a place where nothing can “extort energy from the chefs’ single-minded pursuit of gorgeously constructed bowls of ramen.” Gene Kato’s Sumi Robata Bar set a similarly high standard in River North, where “the former Japonais chef methodically seasons bits of skewered flesh and vegetable and carefully tends to them on a pair of charcoal grills until they’re sizzling, fat-slicked, and ready to be gnawed off the sticks.” It’s an operation “faithful to the idea that Japanese food is about proper and minimal application of technique on superior raw materials.”
Worley also liked the Berkshire Room, the cozy new home of Benjamin Schiller, one of city’s top cocktail talents, whose “drinks are unimpeachable, ranging from the classic (vieux carre, manhattan, and a ‘continuous negroni,’ its bitterness further sharpened with age) to the more imaginative, like the Antique, a rum base modified with spikenard, an aromatic Himalayan plant related to valerian, as well as Himalayan salt.” And I can attest that it’s every bit as fun to just sit there and explore Schiller’s library of very rare and special whiskeys.
Finally, boutique tacos rivaled barbecue for pointlessness, and I could not have been more skeptical of Takito Kitchen, from former Carnivale chef David Dworshak. I’m never happier than when I’m wrong: “With these tacos, as with the polenta, Dworshak goes off script, subtly weaving in the influences of other parts of the planet. Crispy redfish is cradled in a purple-tinted hibiscus tortilla and seasoned with toasted coconut and coconut custard, which gives it an unmistakable southeast Asian character. The pork belly is dressed with mozzarella and served on a black sesame-studded tortilla. The best taco in the joint, the ‘lamb chorizo,’ is a single sizzling link that’s like nothing so much as a North African merguez sausage, draped with a charred and melted slab of Scandinavian (via Wisconsin) Brun-uusto cheese and sprinkled with crushed peanut.”
Politics • Cocktail Challenge • Movies • Key Ingredient • Theater • Music
