Anybody remember whence that line? Chicago, a wonderful, masculine, solid city, where you get rewarded for finding the soft spots. A five- or six-day stint. Last night at Ki Ki’s with Val, my favorite colleague from one of the big pharmaceutical companies I am attempting to sign up for more work. I know that Zagat’s is the voice of the hoi polloi, but it at least provides a flavor and a location. They gave it 23 points for food – as I remember, which is suspect - my memory, that is. I have heard it said that if you take the rating anyplace but New York or Paris, you need to discount it several points. I am convinced this is true. I so often test a restaurant with duck. Fish is the best test; but when I am drinking red wine, I don’t want fish, unless I am home.
The wine list had little that was drinkable, as is common with less that four-star restaurants; everything is young. I guessed at 2005 Cantemerle. I chided Brian for opening a 2006 Cantemerle, and here I am drinking a 2005. Wonderful women know how to flatter a man. Val said she would watch me closely test the wine, so she could learn the technique. (She is actually 100 times more sophisticated than I; you can start struggling with some concept or description, and she will quote a mythological story every time that tells the whole story of what you started .) I won’t go into it, because it would invite censure. I do it all with the cork. The wine has wonderful classic fruit and beautifully balancing oak and acid. Perfume but no earth. Too young, but still beautiful. The duck (with green peppercorn sauce, my favorite) was okay, not nearly as good as at, say, Jo Jo’s in New York. (Ki ki’s, Jo Jo’s, you would think I was eating in diners – but these are French American bistros.) But the dinner was a keeper, etched in eternity – like one in Frankfurt.
Today at the ASCO (cancer research) show, one of the biggest trade shows in the world, I was in this meeting room, when a woman walked in. I don’t know if I extolled on this forum one the most wonderful dinners I ever had with anybody other than my wife – I probably did, because I can never contain myself. It was in Frankfurt, at Gargantua. The world famous chef just recognized another colleague, Jean, and me, as people who could appreciate. He cooked virtually everything in his kitchen for us, which took us all evening to sample, long after all other diners had left. Lots of Spätburgunder.
The woman, who I hadn’t seen since Gargantua, walked into a meeting room at the show today, eating a bagel and talking on her cell phone, simultaneously. The normally reserved woman espied me and leapt into my arms, squealing, with both the bagel and phone suffering. She let me go, looked at me, and did it again. I learned today, since I am thinking like a Chinese, because I work for the Chinese, that two hugs are 1,000 times more than one. I had wondered at least once a month if Jean had enjoyed that Frankfurt dinner as much as I did.
Before going to dinner I came through my hotel door from the Convention, and this old negro doorman (the man was just too old to be an African American, or black, or even a person of color) asked me where my partner was, meaning my Chinese Boss. I said she was with a bunch of Chinese friends and I opted out. "Opted!" the old man cried, "that's a big word!" I laughed and went into the elevator.
I came back from dinner tonight to a bus in front with cowboys, in full ten-gallon regalia, and their very heavy wives, getting off in a huge throng, completely filling the walk and the lobby.
"What the hell is this?" I asked the old man. "That's your redemption, sir," he said. What a cool guy.
Anyway, the Custom House, whence I just came, in the nearby Hotel Blake, was an absolute treat. I had as good a fish dish there as I have ever had anywhere. Arctic Char in a wonderful stock with Spaetzle, almonds and a little onion, perfectly cooked. The California Chardonnay was from some special cask, which was wonderful, too. The dinner music was new age soft acid rock, a combination I have never heard before. A triple delight. Unless I run into a diversion, I will go back tomorrow. Nothing like being able to walk to dinner, in the warm wind.