Sable
Delightful birthday dinner in Chicago at Sable. Heather Terhune’s gastro-bar has serious and ambitious food, of which the eGullet crowd is notably fond. The truffled deviled eggs lived up to their billing, and the veal meatballs had a nifty walnut cream sauce. The sweet corn brulée has been controversial, but I’m a fan; I might even buy a propane torch to give this a try. The big win was a quietly complex dish of duck sausage (pistachio and juniper), served with duck crackling and foie gras butter: this is using the whole bird with a vengeance, but where Journeyman might give you a beautiful plate with six or ten separate (but related) products, this is one simple dish that uses all these complicated products together to get lots of textural interest and interesting flavor differences into a simple bowl of sausage.
When did it become impossible to make dinner reservations in the provinces, even ten days in advance? I struck out at Topolo, The Girl and The Goat, and Schwa, though Schwa tried really hard, and Sable couldn’t do better than 9:30. Worth the wait. Given the hour, I limited myself to one cocktail (a Journalist).