Encased Meats Anyone?

My boyfriend and I arrived at Hot Doug’s at the corner of California and Roscoe in Chicago at 10:10 this morning, with growling stomachs, ready for some… brunch?

The restaurant, famous for its specialty “encased meats,” doesn’t open until 10:30, but we’d heard about the long lines, especially on Saturdays, and considering the downpour of rain in Chicago this weekend, we wanted to get there and have as little of a wait as possible.

Yet, despite the early hour, we still didn’t end up being the first in line. We squeezed into the front entryway, a three by five foot space, where ten other people stood, waiting for the doors to be opened. We poured over the menu while we waited, trying to decide between three-chili wild boar sausage or the spicy thai chicken sausage or any other number of meaty pieces of goodness.

When the doors opened, the people poured in, streaming in from outside, dripping wet from standing out in the rain, and came into the brightness that is Hot Doug’s. And by “brightness,” I mean that literally. The vibrant yellow walls are covered in photos of celebrities—the most were of, by far, Elvis. One wall detailed the history of encased meats, beginning with Neanderthals eating a sausage on a stick. The mantra of the restaurant also decorated the restaurant along with the server’s t-shirts: “There are no two finer words in the English language than ‘encased meats,’ my friend.”

The line moved quickly enough, and it was about 10:45 by the time the boy and I were seated and the food was delivered to our table. The boy couldn’t decide between two, so he ordered both. The blue cheese pork sausage—doused in a pear cream sauce and covered in smoked almonds—had an earthy, slightly crunchy flavor. The foie gras and sauternes duck sausage, which was decorated with a truffle sauce and other gourmet food items that I don’t know anything about, was okay, I thought. I didn’t like the hint of cinnamon flavor. But the boy loved it, even though he admitted that the delicate flavor of the foie grass was overwhelmed by the sauce.

Despite being indecisive, at first, I went with the cognac-infused pheasant sausage that was covered with a pomegranate-raspberry crème fraiche and goat cheese. The toppings went so well with the game sausage; the crème fraiche added a sweet flavor, while the goat cheese balanced it with a bit of tartness. Heaven! And, with the bit of sweetness,it was kind of like brunch.

But, wait, I’m not done! The boy and I split an enormous single serving of duck-fat fries, which is only served on Fridays and Saturdays. Drool. Seriously. They were crispy and salty, and oh so delicious.

Once completely satiated (meaning, every last drop was eaten), we walked out the door we had walked in only forty-five minutes or so before. The line was still there, still growing. It wound out the door and down Roscoe’s sidewalk, nearing the alleyway, meaning that the wait would be at least an hour.

That’s how amazing this place is. Rain or shine, freezing temperatures or humid air, people will be there, willing to wait in line for some specialty dogs.

I know I’m already planning on going back, wanting to try everything on the menu as someone ahead of me in line had. Plans are already in motion. My birthday weekend, only two weeks away, I will be there!

Cafe Spiaggia

Yesterday, I treated Tyler (and myself) to a birthday dinner at Spiaggia Café. While it was a bit pricey, it was worth every cent.

The café is on the second floor of 980 N. Michigan Ave, and is divided into three sections. We ended up in a section that felt like it was once a hallway, long and somewhat narrow. Our table felt shoved up against window, to create room for an aisle, so we felt a little bit cramped. The decor itself, with frescos on the wall and hand-blown light fixtures hanging above the tables, was pretty, although the extraordinarily quiet atmosphere caused the restaurant to seem a bit stuffy, but maybe that was also because we were the youngest people in the café, even though we're in our mid/late 20's.

All of that, though, is overshadowed by the amazing food, even the bread. Spiaggia doesn't serve Parmesan with their bread and olive oil, but that's because it doesn't need to. The olive oil is selected by Chef Tony Mantuano and available exclusively at Spiaggia, even to buy and take home. Along with the bread, the basket also contains some crispy cheese flatbread.

We started with the buffalo mozzarella appetizer; paired with acorn squash and prosciutto, the mozzarella tasted delicate and was sinfully delicious. As for entrees, the gnocchi with wild boar reminded me of my grandmother's Italian cooking; the gnocchi was handmade and fluffy, with the wild boar and red sauce adding a punch of flavor. We also had the ravioli, full of ricotta cheese and more prosciutto (the prosciutto is amazingly fresh). The grilled Treviso—a leafy vegetable—complemented the ravioli and added a crunchy kick to the dish. The sauce was light and sweet, which melded well with the other flavors of the ravioli.

I definitely recommend Café Spiaggia; it's much cheaper than it's extraordinarily expensive counter-part, Spiaggia Restaurant, just across the hall, and is definitely delicious—but be sure to request a table for 4, so you don't feel cramped!

My New Writing Space

I tend to get more writing and work done when I'm out of my apartment - no surprise, there - so I'm all for looking for new places that are comfortable, inviting, and conducive to getting stuff done. My local Panera sometimes does the trick, but with classes back in session at the downtown Northwestern, it can get a bit crowded on the weekends. So, last weekend, Tyler and I tried working at the Fox & Obel Cafe - not the section right next to where you order food (because that's always just way too crowded and loud), but in the atrium that is tucked off to the side of the store.

We've studied at Fobel - our abbreviation for the sometimes-expensive but always worth it grocery store and cafe - three times, including twice this weekend, to do work. I suppose the down-side and up-side of this is that we have gotten lunch each time we've studied there, and that can get pretty pricey even though it's always delicious.

Both Tyler and I wholeheartedly agree - studying and writing here in the atrium rocks. Even if there are a bunch of people eating and talking, the high timbered ceilings keep in pretty quiet. While the inside is nice in and of itself, with a small kitchen at the far end for the occasional cooking classes, it's the view outside that makes this spot pretty awesome.

The trees along a slip off the river still twinkle with white Christmas lights. Today, the water in the slip was frozen over for the most part - a large glacier of white. Near the slip's walls the ice had melted, and a large sord of mallard ducks slid into the water as if the ice is a slip 'n slide. On the other side of the water, a bunch of kids built snowmen, even as the snow kept falling. Yeah, I can definitely spend some time here writing - but maybe I should get coffee instead of a full lunch the next time I'm here.

Review: Avec Restaurant

Located in the West Loop, the trendy Avec Restaurant was overflowing when I arrived near 8:00pm this past Saturday. The crowd wasn't suprising considering the restaurant doesn't take reservations and there aren't too many tables. Since there was only my boyfriend and I, we were willing to sit at the bar, and it paid off to our advantage. Despite the long line of people, we were seated after only a minute of waiting.

Perched on bar stools, we were feet away from where the cooking was taking place. We saw food slipped into wood-burning stoves, vegetables tossed on the grill. The cooks moved in a pattern, easily sidestepping one another as they put the finishing touches on plate after plate. From this vantage point, we asked our bartender/waiter, "What's that? And that?" over and over again. He patiently answered our questions, and we soon found ourselves overwhelmed with choices.

Fortunately, with the way Avec is set up, we were able to order a few different meals. As our waiter pointed out, two people can usually comfortably eat either two small plates (ranging between $4 and $12 each) or one large plate (ranging from as low as $14 to as high as $44 for the daily special).

The hangar steak, a delicious medium-rare, sat on a bed of corn and lima beans (both adding the perfect amount of sweetness to the plate) and broccoli, which was an unfortunate startingly strong flavor that I found at odds with the rest of the dish. Our second plate, a whipped brandade, was a hearty and heated cod dip that was sinfully delightful; we took solace in the fact that while there was some heavy cream, the taste of cod was perfectly intermingled with the other ingredients and was paired well with toasted garlic bread.

We were getting full but our neighbors to the left had gotten more dishes that we coveted, and so we ordered one last dish: dates stuffed with chorizo and wrapped in bacon. As we waited for our food, we continued to sip our wine (available by the glass or bottle), and for the first time realized how warm it had gotten in the restaurant, one of the unfortunate side effects of having the kitchen in the same cigar-styled room as the seating area. Despite the growing and somewhat uncomfortable heat, it seemed like it was supposed to be a part of the place's atmosphere. After all, every part of the wall, floor, and ceiling was covered in slabs of wood, causing the place to appear as if it was one big sauna.

The dates arrived, carried to us in a dish resting on a wooden slab (we really sensed the theme with this delivery of food). The dates were sweet, salty, and spicy -- and we could see why, according to our waiter, it is one of the most popular dishes as well as the longest-running menu item. Alas, the waiter was right in suggesting only two small plates. We each had one date and we were more than satiated. We got the last two dates to go, and left Avec, already excited about returning and trying other dishes we saw being whisked out of the open-air kitchen.

And even though it was near 9:30 when we left, a crowd of people -- different from those we saw when we first arrived -- mingled outside, waiting for their chance at some decently priced gourmet food.