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  • Charlie Trotter's (long)

    Post #1 - August 26th, 2005, 11:00 pm
    Post #1 - August 26th, 2005, 11:00 pm Post #1 - August 26th, 2005, 11:00 pm
    Gaffes and Genius

    The insistent and obstinate question after last evening's visit to Charlie Trotter's is what errors should affect the reputation of a restaurant. This is a crucial question for reviewers, but one rarely discussed. Problems of conception, execution, service, and style are endemic - even in the writings of critics. Should my failures at spell checking or mistaken allegation that a wild plum was tame count against my hard-fought and fragile credibility? Find the 30 goofs in this text and win a prize.

    I had last visited Charlie Trotter's in 1999, dining at the kitchen table. The meal was as close to being perfect as a can recall. (Were I Nick Hornby's emotionally stunted Rob in High Fidelity [I am], it would have nestled on my top five meals with twenty-four hours to live. "Hey, have a nice day").

    That meal was, if anything, too superb. For years I hesitated to return because I recognized that any second visit could not hold up to the memory of the first. Sometimes at highly regarded restaurants I deceive myself that the meal was better than it was, if only desperately to convince myself that I had an EXPERIENCE. But a critic must flagellate himself, and, despite the bill, very few meals snuggle up to perfection.

    I will be spending next year in New York City and plan to dine at Trotter's 2006 New York outpost (along with a few soggy New York establishments that wistfully strive for Chicago standards). A return was long-overdue.

    It remains true that Charlie Trotter is a culinary genius. Today he is the most profoundly influential chef of his generation. The kitchen at 816 Armitage is a teaching hospital, and we are grateful for his training of a new generation. However, perfection and socialization do not always exist in comfortable harmony.

    Chef Trotter has a preternatural sensibility of texture and taste. (He seems less interested in aroma, leaving a space for Grant Achatz's experiments). A tranquil and modest grandeur characterizes Trotter's cuisine. While his plates are often elegantly composed, they are less visually pyrotechnic than is often found. Trotter's greatness is as the broker of the transition between a classical cuisine and a cuisine that is unafraid of marrying foodstuffs from different lineages and with contrasting taste profiles. One can not fairly suggest that he fully belongs to the French nouvelle tradition with its boisterous joy of overturning expectations, but he brings a Japanese emotive sensibility to the gustatory experiments of the nouvelle tradition without ignoring classical limits. It is this profundity which provides a base from which chefs such as Cantu and Bowles can create their boisterous experiments.

    As a dining room, Charlie Trotter's with its vaguely Art Deco decor insists the place not distract from the plate. The tans, browns, creams, and maroons avoid the fantasies of French drawing rooms or post-modern architectural seductions. The only exceptions - and they are profound - are the stunning bouquets at the entrance and in the dining room, as powerful for their textures as for their shape and color: hortus in urbe.

    Our plan was that I would order the Grand Menu ($135) and my wife would "take one for the team," ordering the Vegetable Menu ($115). On this late summer evening, the vegetable menu was heaven, while the Grand Menu inspired thoughts about error and taste.

    What should it matter if a server forgets the butter? When our rolls arrived, our server forgot the butter. Servers at Trotters are known, properly, for combining efficiency and a cheery cordiality; our servers were not disappointing in this regard, answering my many questions. Yet, there was no butter. When I requested some, it was brought with alacrity. How should such an error count? All would agree that this is a mistake, but one so fleeting and so human that one can hardly pump oneself to take offense. The minor daily flubs we all commit would pale beside the crime of the truant butter. However, at a restaurant that strives for perfection, such a mistake is to be noted, not because even the harshest Captain Queeg can prevent such blunders, but to ignore such things is to dismiss the very standard that the restaurant demands.

    We turn to the Amuse Gueule. Amuse Gueule? I trust that some solid rationale exists for an alternative terminology to the more common Amuse Bouche. Enquiring minds note that Rick Tramonto of Tru and interlocutor of Chef Trotter on the politics of foie gras has a well-publicized new book devoted to the Amuse Bouche. But shame on me for suspecting.

    The Amuse Gueules started the meals off on different trajectories. The Vegetable Menu began with a delicate squash blossom stuffed with morels, and napped with a silky morel sauce. But morels in August? Surely not from a can? Trotter's takes May morels, preserving them in oil, so the opulence of the oil (presumably olive) adds another herbal dimension to the taste. Alinea's PB&J may be fun, but this is delight.

    In sharp contrast was my own amuse. The Irish salmon on seaweed noodles married the soggy with the gummy. The two bites constituted the least appealing (and, in truth, the only unappealing) bites that I have had at Trotter's. If I don't know all of the trade tricks of the chef, I can tell sashimi grade fish. A small course, but big miss.

    Both first courses were triumphs with the vegetables tinkling brighter. "Confit of leeks with organic fennel, nicoise olives and Sally Jackson farm sheep milk cheese" was an archetypal Trotter dish. It was not flashy - no sharp edges, no blazing colors - but what a palette of flavors! The fennel added a slightly bitter edge, the olives an acidic pungency, and the cheese a rich savoriness. The leeks, standing up to these challenges, held the center from which these alternative accents radiated. There was a classic purity to this dish that simultaneously seeming so contemporary.

    My own opener, "Marinated Bluefin Tuna and Citrus Vinaigrette with Heirloom Tomato Water" (with an Annatto Rice Chip) was, in contrast to the amuse, superbly fresh matchsticks of tuna. While the dish is described as "tomato water" (a surprising turn of phrase), it had the texture of a puree. Citrus and tomato add the acid that cut the buttery richness of a fatty fish like tuna. I was fully satisfied, if still a little jealous.

    Susan's favorite food (#1 on foods to consume on a deserted island) is hearts of palm (she would, of course, only settle on an island that could satisfy such needs). As a consequence, I missed my just share of "Roasted Hearts of Palm With Fava Beans & Summer Truffle" (which, if memory serves, also embraced some nubile young asparagi). This was another memorable dish, textured with careful gradients in taste. The slices of summer truffles were a loving touch, although I have never been enamored by God's Viagra. Chef Trotter, consider the army of amoral pigs brutally rooting in the forest duff for a bit of nasty: surely truffles are fungal foie gras.

    Two minutes can be an eternity at the stove, and managed to upend my second course, so close to brilliant, "Japanese Hamachi with Indian Pickle, Thai Eggplant & Lemongrass Curry Emulsion." Hiding on the plate was pieces of satsuma orange and, majestically, bitter melon. The combination of tastes, patient and demanding of attention, were perfectly balanced. The unexpected bitter melon, like a hidden character left off the program in a murder mystery, proved that one does not need a chemistry set to knock out diners. And yet at the heart of this otherwise assured dish was a piece of hamachi (yellowtail or racing tuna) that had seen better minutes. Tuna is an unforgiving fish. Perhaps a cook was dreaming of a wayward lover, and my fish got the worse of unrequited love. The hamachi was not a wizened hunk and looked healthy, but died on the tongue. In retrospect, this was a moment for alerting the server, but my discretion was the worst part of valor. Someday I will have this dish in its perfection, and my unrequited love will be requited. Adding piquancy was that on my first visit the high point of the evening was a brilliant and blatantly undercooked duck breast, confronting those who muddle with medium.

    Third course on the Vegetable Menu was "Vegetable Cannelloni with Farro, Kohlrabi & Red Wine Emulsion (read: foam)." The "pasta" was comprised of root vegetables - Atkins on Armitage. (Farro is, however, an antique grain). If this was not quite the bright combination of flavors of some other dishes, feeling more "vegetarian" than most, it was a witty and spare response to traditional Italian cuisine. The red wine foam added a complexity that otherwise was lacking.

    Dish three on the Grand Menu, "Organic Berkshire Pork with Braised Salsify & Zucchini-Cumin Puree" (with forest mushrooms) was another dish that was a few ticks on the clock from glorious, although far less unfortunate that the lamented hamachi. The flavorings were grand. Pork and cumin are made for each other. Trotter cooked the pork in several forms, but the medallions suffered most. Just a hint of juice would have placed this dish in the collection of Trotter's best.

    The final "entree" on the Vegetable Menu, "Taro Root Cake with Black Trumpet Mushrooms, Braised Italian Kale & Orange Lentil Puree," was Chef Trotter's most architecturally ambitious creation of the evening. The brown and orange smears of sauce set off the greens, tans, and blacks of the main ingredients. If taro is not the most pungent of foodstuff, kale and lentil provided the energy. Trotter's dishes do not generally aspire to serve as visual works of art, but this dish surpassed the requirements of this approach to haute cuisine.

    The Grand Menu climaxed with "Millbrook Venison Loin with Lobster Mushrooms, Savoy Cabbage & Sweetbreads." I came to realize that the chef's culinary palate was pointing towards fall: root vegetables, cabbage, lentils, kohlrabi, and 57 varieties of mushrooms. I have always thought of venison as autumnal and the cabbage and lobster mushrooms were just right with the venison lightened by the perfectly prepared sweetbreads. With the exception of the earlier heirloom tomato water (and the desserts) summer had set. If the venison loin was cooked just barely more than I would have chosen (the ball of veal cheeks was superb), its presentation was well within appropriate culinary standards, and the dish was superior.

    Our palette cleansers were a pair of sorbets: Cantaloupe with Yuzu and Watercress (with bits of lardon) on the Grand Menu and Cucumber Sorbet with Cucamelon & Cilantro. Cucamelon, who knew? Cucumber and melon; chocolate and peanut butter? What a world. Neither were quite palate "cleansers;" each was a palate intensifier. No dish is too modest to challenge our assumptions.

    The dessert on the Vegetable Menu qualifies as the best dessert that I have eaten (shared, sadly) since the last time at Trotter's when I was presented with a platonic plate of Japanese inspired and flavored petit fours. "Red Haven Peaches with Thyme & Olive Oil Ice Cream" [and, surprise!, apricots too] was dessert to a higher power. Red Haven peaches are a Michigan varietal, but these fruits have a honeyed southern accent. The herbal ice cream cuts the sweetness of the peaches, and creates a dish that avoids a dessert sugar fix.

    "Michigan Raspberries with Anise Hyssop & Raw Vanilla Ban Ice Cream" was the curtain call on the Grand Menu. The raspberries, not as large as some varieties, were more flavorful than most, and as with the peaches the touch of anise cut the sweetness. A most excellent close to what had been a brilliantly conceived, if imperfectly executed, menu.

    I haven't mentioned the wines. I decided to try the "beverage tasting menu." I was glad of that choice since my intent was to see the kitchen at work, but I would not again. These elegant drinks could not match the complexity of wine. The selections: "Granny Smith Apple, Cucumber and Celery," "Lemongrass, Green tea and Asian Pear," "Pineapple, Orange and Picked Galangal (ginger's cousin)," "Navarro Vineyards Pinot Noir Juice," "Porcini Mushroom, Dandelion Miso Tea," and "Watermelon & Yuzu" were straight-forward, and each was dominated by a simple taste: celery, green tea, pineapple, porcini, and watermelon. The pineapple and watermelon were particularly refreshing. As juices, who could complain, but they were far from the flinty hills of Burgundy.

    This meal reconfirmed my belief that Charlie Trotter's is a rare four-star restaurant, that Charlie Trotter is not only among the greatest chef creators of his generation but the singular animating force who has created Chicago dining as American haute cuisine, and that this is a restaurant that demands routine patronage. However, while the Vegetable Menu was a four star meal, the Grand Menu rates three stars for execution. Perhaps the overcooking is a sign that the restaurant is becoming cautious in attempting to please a more conventional clientele or perhaps it means that I suffered the doleful effects of a cook in love.

    Critic's Note

    When asked, I informed the server that some of the dishes, particularly the hamachi, were overcooked, and she told me that she would share my wisdom (although she did not describe it so) with the kitchen. This is, of course, something that no critic with a shred of self-esteem should do.

    When our meal was complete Chef Trotter stopped me: "I just wanted to let you know that we terminated the cook who prepared your hamachi." Fool me once . . . . Diners have heard stories of this youthful chef's commitment to perfection. He soon added, "that doesn't mean that we fired him, we terminated him" (with extreme prejudice). I was upended. This from a man who might serve Rick Tramonto's bloated liver, but still manages to retains Richie Daley's charm. Bravo.

    In the interest of full disclosure, we were also provided a bag of gifts, which although it violated my critic's code, I accepted with a mixture of chagrin and glee. As I shall soon have a website, I have learned that the code of ethics for us bloggers is a four letter word: MORE.

    Charlie Trotter's
    816 Armitage
    Chicago, IL 60614

    773-248-6228

    Cross-posted on eGullet and LTHforum.

    Coming soon to a blogosphere near you.
  • Post #2 - August 26th, 2005, 11:18 pm
    Post #2 - August 26th, 2005, 11:18 pm Post #2 - August 26th, 2005, 11:18 pm
    I've always thought of gueule as palate and bouche as mouth. Perhaps CT thinks the same?
    Ed Fisher
    my chicago food photos

    RIP LTH.
  • Post #3 - August 26th, 2005, 11:54 pm
    Post #3 - August 26th, 2005, 11:54 pm Post #3 - August 26th, 2005, 11:54 pm
    Did you note the thread count of the tablecloth? For me, less than 400 is a deal-breaker.
  • Post #4 - August 26th, 2005, 11:58 pm
    Post #4 - August 26th, 2005, 11:58 pm Post #4 - August 26th, 2005, 11:58 pm
    GAF:

    Quite a review of quite a meal. Thanks for 'taking one for the team' (:shock: :wink: :D).

    ***

    gleam wrote:I've always thought of gueule as palate and bouche as mouth. Perhaps CT thinks the same?


    I'm not sure what you mean. Amuse gueule is a term that has been around a long time and is, I believe, a bit of a joke, using a vulgar word for 'mouth' instead of the neutral 'bouche'. Not different anatomy; different register. The almost universal use of amuse bouche here instead of the other term has always seemed kind of prissy to me.

    Antonius
    Alle Nerven exzitiert von dem gewürzten Wein -- Anwandlung von Todesahndungen -- Doppeltgänger --
    - aus dem Tagebuch E.T.A. Hoffmanns, 6. Januar 1804.
    ________
    Na sir is na seachain an cath.
  • Post #5 - August 27th, 2005, 12:01 am
    Post #5 - August 27th, 2005, 12:01 am Post #5 - August 27th, 2005, 12:01 am
    Antonius wrote:I'm not sure what you mean. Amuse gueule is a term that has been around a long time and is, I believe, a bit of a joke, using a vulgar word for 'mouth' instead of the neutral 'bouche'. Not different anatomy; different register. The almost universal use of amuse bouche here instead of the other term has always seemed kind of prissy to me.


    Yeah, I looked around a bit after my post and found an explanation that mirrors yours. That gueule was supposed to have a more playful tone than bouche, and thus more in keeping wiht the idea of the course..
    Ed Fisher
    my chicago food photos

    RIP LTH.
  • Post #6 - August 27th, 2005, 12:14 am
    Post #6 - August 27th, 2005, 12:14 am Post #6 - August 27th, 2005, 12:14 am
    We turn to the Amuse Gueule. Amuse Gueule? I trust that some solid rationale exists for an alternative terminology to the more common Amuse Bouche. Enquiring minds note that Rick Tramonto of Tru and interlocutor of Chef Trotter on the politics of foie gras has a well-publicized new book devoted to the Amuse Bouche. But shame on me for suspecting.


    Well, perhaps I'm just old but the term amuse gueule was the first version I ever came across and for me at least, it long seemed the normal one. So in this regard, I'd be inclined to say that Mr. Trotter is just being amusingly traditional. Perhaps there are regional factors at play too, though I suspect not.

    Et maintenant, ma gueule!

    Antonius
    Alle Nerven exzitiert von dem gewürzten Wein -- Anwandlung von Todesahndungen -- Doppeltgänger --
    - aus dem Tagebuch E.T.A. Hoffmanns, 6. Januar 1804.
    ________
    Na sir is na seachain an cath.
  • Post #7 - February 22nd, 2008, 7:02 am
    Post #7 - February 22nd, 2008, 7:02 am Post #7 - February 22nd, 2008, 7:02 am
    I was astonished, when preparing to post this, to find few substantive reviews of dinners at Charlie Trotter’s. Indeed, this very thread dates to 2005. Amazing, in and of itself. Various posters eat here from time to time but for whatever reasons, few post much about it. (Yes, I know that opinions have been posted on various threads, but there are surprisingly few detailed reviews like Gary’s and so I decided to resurrect his estimable review by choosing this thread to add mine.)

    I ate at Charlie Trotter’s once many years ago, probably in the early '90s. I recall little about that meal except (1) we had a great bottle of white (no, I don’t recall); (2) the service was too formal for me; and (3) the food was excellent but not memorable. The Lovely Dining Companion and I returned this past Saturday and so I have a chance to update my impressions. I had the wine accompaniment to the Grand Menu, leaving any potential comparison to an unremembered bottle impossible. The service this time, as explained below, was anything but formal. And the food was excellent and (I think) memorable.

    We chose to dine at 5:30pm because that is what the hostess offered when I called for my desired date. As I pondered the early time on the telephone, she pointed out (quite correctly) that we’d be there for well over two hours in any event. As it happened, we were there for almost three, leaving us to get out and still have some of the evening free.

    This is probably the place to make an initial observation about the women with whom I spoke when first dealing with the restaurant. In the course of speaking with the reservations staff four times (to make and then to cancel the original reservations and to make and then confirm the most recent reservation), I had occasion to speak with several different women (so far as I can tell). With the exception of the woman I spoke with last, I was put off by what I can only describe as an unfriendly attitude each time I called. Though nothing incorrect or out-of-place was said, each time I received the distinct impression that I was being granted a favor by being allowed to make a reservation (much less to cancel it more than 48 hours in advance). There was no warmth, no friendliness, just perfectly correct, perfectly scripted conversation.

    Contrast this with the behavior of every single individual we came into contact with on Saturday evening. Things began auspiciously with the young man out front who opened the door. However—and, as we were to learn, this issue would continue throughout the evening—we had extreme difficulty understanding him. Even though his words were innocuous (“Welcome to Charlie Trotter’s” or something similar), and even though he was hard to understand, the sentiment was nonetheless genuine and warm—another, more positive, note that would be struck over and again that evening.

    From the moment we walked in, everyone with whom we came into contact was friendly and eager to be of any possible assistance. I cannot help but contrast this with our first (and so far only) experience at Alinea. Although the meal there is perhaps the best meal I’ve ever been fortunate to enjoy, the staff serving us that night could profit from watching those who served us at Charlie Trotter’s. The Alinea staff was generally younger; the three women at the front desk that evening were (or seemed) particularly young and their friendliness seemed superficial compared to the genuine warmth we both felt at Trotter’s. The servers at Alinea were mostly young and varied enormously in ability and talent. One particularly young man seemed to be reciting a script (albeit eagerly) and another’s enthusiasm was so over-the-top that it was hard not to giggle. In addition, the sheer number of staff bodies at Alinea was so high that that they routinely got in each other’s way and, though quiet and careful about it, the traffic couldn’t but be noticed. There were simply too many people for the space. Finally, to my dismay, the sommelier that evening was not Craig Sindelar. Our luck was to draw someone who was so arrogant that every one of my several attempts to engage him in conversation failed miserably.

    At Trotter’s, by contrast, an attitude that began with the young man out front continued through all the front of the house staff, to the waitstaff and everyone else. Everyone we met impressed us with their friendliness, eagerness to be of assistance, and genuine desire that we have a good time. Virtually every need or request we might have was anticipated, fulfilled before we could even say a word. (Example: my wife's hand was barely on her purse before someone was at the door to the restroom, holding it open for her.)

    GAF wrote:As a dining room, Charlie Trotter's with its vaguely Art Deco decor insists the place not distract from the plate. The tans, browns, creams, and maroons avoid the fantasies of French drawing rooms or post-modern architectural seductions. The only exceptions - and they are profound - are the stunning bouquets at the entrance and in the dining room, as powerful for their textures as for their shape and color: hortus in urbe.


    Oh, that I were able to command such perceptive and evocative language! In a word, we agree. The flowers are stunning: in size, variety, texture, color…. It’s hard not to notice or be impressed by the flora on display. But it’s the only thing that calls attention to itself in an otherwise demure series of rooms. As Gary said, Trotter lets his food do the talking.

    We were taken aback to be served a creation from the mixologist (their term) for the new restaurant in Las Vegas as the amuse. He was in Chicago and created a gin and orange concoction. (I can’t be more precise both because I was so caught off-guard to be served a drink and because of difficulty understanding what he said—of which more below.) When we were initially asked whether we had any allergies or preferences, we answered honestly: none. It simply never occurred to us that the amuse would be a cocktail. The LDC does not drink alcohol—a choice, not a necessity. Frankly, we were both so surprised that we didn’t say anything and, in that regard, that is our error, not that of the house. We don’t doubt that her drink would have been replaced; given everything else that happened that evening, we are certain of it. But we were so startled to be served alcohol that we lost whatever savoir faire we might have had. We’re certainly not suggesting that the practice be discontinued—others no doubt welcome it; only that the staff be aware of the possibility of reactions like ours.

    Language problems were an issue we never anticipated. Our server that evening was not a native speaker of English. His service was impeccable, he was personally warm and friendly, but both LDC and I had great difficulty understanding him. (Most courses were presented by one gentleman, although another brought one course and yet another the amuse—all shared the same problem, though our primary server was the most difficult to comprehend.) Though it was evident that they were all taking extraordinary care to enunciate and be understood, we were often unable to understand them. We recognize that this is a sensitive issue and did nothing to address it while we were there. What could one possibly say? Were it not for the menus that we were given as souvenirs (and could thus consult throughout the meal), we would simply not have known what some of the components of a given course were. Perhaps the house staff’s familiarity with each other has accustomed them to everyone’s accents, but as customers who have never spoken with them before, much as we admired their professionalism and were grateful for their friendliness, we had undeniable difficulties.

    I regret never learning the name of the gentleman who presented and poured my wines on Saturday because I cannot recall having enjoyed talking as much about the various offerings and winemaking in general. I was a bit apprehensive as he appeared to be young (late 20s; and yes, I realize my prejudice in this regard) but he was impressively knowledgeable, easy to talk with, and constantly observant. For example, we talked at length about a wine that was completely new to me, from Mendel Wines in Argentina, a bottle called Unus. We talked about its composition (cabernet and malbec), its alcohol and tannin levels, its youth, and its appropriateness for the dish and so forth. I drank it carefully and contemplatively and, having finished it, he wordlessly provided another pour so I could ponder it a bit more.

    Another example: the accompaniments included sake (interestingly enough, the identical sake I was served at Alinea—Fukucho Moon on the Water Junmai Ginjo). It’s a fragrant, superbly smooth, beautifully rounded, sake. But I noticed that the wine menu that they had given us as a keepsake listed something different (Sato No Homare Pride of the Village Junmai Ginjo). I inquired, in order to confirm that I was drinking Moon on the Water. (I was.) A course or so later, he brought out the sake listed on the menu (but changed for the service). Completely different and, in my estimation, nowhere near the perfect match the Moon on the Water had been. What an unexpected, generous gesture! (For those who are interested, I found the latter to be “ricier,” an adjective the sommelier gently corrected to note that it tasted more heavily of bran. And though it was “clean,” I didn’t find it as well-balanced or as nicely flavored as the Moon on the Water.”) It allowed us to talk again—about the differences between the sakes, the pairing, and so forth.

    One other note that I think aptly illustrates a number of things. Shortly after we sat down and had been handed the menus, I asked if the restaurant had a policy on the use of cameras and whether they would mind. With a big smile, I was told that cameras were welcome and that the staff would be happy to do anything they could to facilitate picture-taking. Sadly, the camera failed. Yet, at one point, before I had given up on fixing it, a server noticed the problems I was having and asked if I wanted him to look at the camera to see if he could assist!

    All this by way of explaining that I have no pictures. I will offer only a relatively few comments on what we thought were the highlights (or otherwise). LDC had the Vegetable Menu and I had the Grand Menu. Though we didn’t enjoy every single course—and would never entirely expect to—we were constantly impressed by the care, thoughtfulness, presentation, and taste of everything we ate.

    Standouts for LDC were a the squash and the sherbet courses. The latter course was maca which, for those who are unfamiliar with it (we’d never heard of it), is variously described as root, an herb, and a food from Peru. Interestingly, the overwhelming majority of the first hits on Google report (with varying levels of excitement) its properties as an aphrodisiac. Maca is related to the radish, seems to be roasted ordinarily and can be used to make everything from pudding to soup. The sherbet was accompanied by a few pieces of maca (there is a long finger-like root projecting from a “squashed turnip”-like body), pickled date and quinoa (in keeping with the Peruvian theme). In three words, LDC described the sherbet as decadent and creamy. She also singled out the butternut squash (served with walnut, Perigord truffle, and toasted pepitas) as excellent, in part for its wonderful, unexpected combination of flavors.

    Two of my courses, back-to-back as life would have it, were just about perfect. When I saw the roasted squab breast on the menu, I was curious (apprehensive might be a better word) about how it would work with the cocoa nibs. (The presentation also included hazelnuts and pearl onions.) I needed to simply trust Charlie Trotter. I know I have never had a better piece of squab in my life. The flavors complemented beautifully and the tender meat was cooked to perfection. I was depressed to think that the rest of the menu couldn’t possibly live up to the level of that course. But then I moved to the venison. Golly, I thought. Actually, “this may be the best venison I’ve ever had” would be closer to the mark. The portion was generous to a fault. Served with black trumpet mushrooms and a black cardamom carrot puree (the latter of which I found somewhat less successful), the venison was unctuous in the best possible sense of the word: absolutely perfectly cooked, juices slowly oozing, rich, and…well, frankly, virtually beyond compare.

    Not everything worked. LDC didn’t care for the salsify course and I simply couldn’t find it in my palate to like the Nigorizake sorbet (with pear and jasmine rice). Sake as sorbet was an offbeat taste (I can see how it might sound intriguing) and it not only didn’t cleanse my palate but I found that it left a rather off-putting taste. Fortunately for me it was followed by a toasted milk ice cream served in a small pool of organic buttermilk with white pepper and nutmeg. The pepper and nutmeg were added in just the right amounts, highlighting without intruding. And the ice cream was delectable. Absolutely delicious.

    LDC made a couple other observations that I hadn’t noticed but, on reflection, made great sense to me. The first was prompted by my conversations about the restaurant’s philosophy behind the wine selections. Given the clear effort (in the wine accompaniment) to present a variety of dishes, flavors, textures, and sensations, it surprised her that two of her first four courses were mushroom-based. Different mushrooms, different preparations and tastes to be sure—but two mushroom dishes nonetheless. She was also surprised that, with the exception of the saffron risotto, all of her dishes were “purely” vegetables—no pasta, no grains. As it happens, her observation is slightly incorrect: one course included a small piece of brioche and the maca sherbet, as noted above, included a bit of quinoa. These aren’t complaints but observations and I offer them merely to share our thoughts. We don’t presume to know all of the considerations that go into deciding what items will constitute any given menu, but LDC was struck enough to comment and I thought her comments were quite apt.

    One last note on the wine accompaniment (and its server). The last wine to be served is the Alvear “Solera 1927" Pedro Ximenez. Since I had recently finished the same bottle at home, I asked if something could be substituted. The request was honored without the least hesitation (and, in fact, an offer was made at the very beginning that if any courses or ingredients presented issues of any sort that they would be very happy to accommodate a substitution request. Although we didn’t take them up on the offer for the meals, we were grateful for their raising the issue so gracefully and generously.) And so I found my dinner ended with Warre’s 1977 Port (in lieu of the PX). I am not ordinarily much of a port aficionado but this was a revelation: powerful, exceptionally well-rounded and flavorful, intense…a wonderful way to finish.

    As to general matters, the pacing was nearly perfect, presentations magnificent. We were constantly impressed at the finesse and quality of the service. No one ever hovered and no one was ever far away. Virtually anyone who had anything to do with our evening was attentive to the point where it is hard to imagine that they could have done a better job. From refilling water glasses (often enough without being every time we took a sip) to providing new and intriguing breads, all warm from the oven (not reheated so far as we could tell), everyone was present when they needed to be. Everyone was friendly, everyone was eager that we have a great time.

    (Yet, though it seems almost churlish to complain, I’ll note one “failure” that surprised us given the ease with which it might have been accomplished: although the menu included a “Happy Birthday” greeting to my wife, not a single person mentioned it. Was that necessary? Of course not, but given the extraordinary detail and attention otherwise lavished on us, it seemed slightly odd to us. We didn’t expect (or ask for) any special dessert “recognition” and didn’t receive any. But the simplest of all things, a spoken comment when we entered, was absent. Perhaps we were more sensitive to it, too, because at least two tables near us received such greetings while in the dining room.)

    We had an extraordinary evening. I made a brief comment earlier about the superiority of Trotter’s staff to Alinea’s. I will note in passing that this observation is based on only one visit to each restaurant. The service unquestionably affects the experience but, service issues notwithstanding, we had extraordinary dinners at both places. We enjoyed them both for different reasons and consider ourselves fortunate simply to be able to afford them. Indeed, we wish we could afford to return more often. And yet, given the remarkable evening that we had at both places, we know that we will be back to both.
    Gypsy Boy

    "I am not a glutton--I am an explorer of food." (Erma Bombeck)
  • Post #8 - February 22nd, 2008, 7:35 am
    Post #8 - February 22nd, 2008, 7:35 am Post #8 - February 22nd, 2008, 7:35 am
    Gypsy Boy wrote:We chose to dine at 5:30pm because that is what the hostess offered when I called for my desired date. As I pondered the early time on the telephone, she pointed out (quite correctly) that we’d be there for well over two hours in any event. As it happened, we were there for almost three, leaving us to get out and still have some of the evening free.


    Wise choice. I have been to Trotters several times and twice have had a problem being seated on time when we took the 9:30 reservation. On one occasion, my dads 65th bday with a party of 10, we did not sit until close to 11pm. It was difficult to enjoy a meal that really requires your full attention and catch cat naps between courses. I understand that Trotters was not going to kick out the party who overstayed their alloted time from the 6:30 seating. However, it was very difficult to enjoy, or even remember what we ate which is a big drag when you are spending 3k on a special birthday dinner. I will only choose the early seating at Trotters, or any place of its ilk, from now on.
  • Post #9 - February 22nd, 2008, 11:03 am
    Post #9 - February 22nd, 2008, 11:03 am Post #9 - February 22nd, 2008, 11:03 am
    One quick little story I've never shared about Trotters.

    A couple years ago I received a gift certificate from a client for $300. I believe at the time dinner was $115. Of course with two dinners, wine, tax etc we were well into the $450 territory.

    When the waiter (who was terrific) brought us the check I presented the gift certificate along with my credit card to cover the difference. He looked at it and said he would be back in a few moments. When he came back he said that he was in the kitchen talking to Charlie. He said that the dinner was intended to be a gift and should stay that way. He refused to accept payment for anything over $300.

    I guess I should also mention that before the first course the waiter asked if we had any allergies or dietary restrictions. Being a smart ass I told him that my physician recommends I eat foie gras at least once a day. In addition to the first course he presented to my wife and I he also brought me out a special plate with foie gras prepared 5 ways. It was incredible and I thought really cool that they did that.
  • Post #10 - February 22nd, 2008, 11:22 am
    Post #10 - February 22nd, 2008, 11:22 am Post #10 - February 22nd, 2008, 11:22 am
    Chef Trotter has a reputation for being magnanimous in that regard. My partner took his wife for an anniversary dinner and accidently pointed to a $450 bottle of wine when he meant to order a $75 dollar bottle. The waiter was nice and had him reconfirm the order before he opened the bottle. My partner then ordered a second bottle, because he "loved" it so much (go figure). When the check came he was suprised but admitted his mistake after the waiter showed him the wine list. Nonetheless, Chef Trotter bought him the second bottle and presented him with a gift basket on the way out. Mt friend felt warm and fuzzy all over. Chef Trotter knows how to make you feel welcome and appreciated.
  • Post #11 - February 22nd, 2008, 4:13 pm
    Post #11 - February 22nd, 2008, 4:13 pm Post #11 - February 22nd, 2008, 4:13 pm
    Why do those last two stories bring tears to my eyes? Maybe it's the fact that someone at the top of his craft so clearly loves what he does that he goes to such lengths to please his customers. This despite the fact that even if CT didn't do this, there would be 10 people lined up to take that seating.

    There's something about service like this that affects me deeply, but maybe it's because I've become used to being treated like a wallet everywhere else in my life. I only wish I could go to Trotter's. Someday, hopefully!
  • Post #12 - February 22nd, 2008, 4:53 pm
    Post #12 - February 22nd, 2008, 4:53 pm Post #12 - February 22nd, 2008, 4:53 pm
    The last time I went to Charlie Trotters (a very long time ago) I waited an hour and forty five minutes before I received any food at all (although I did finish a very nice bottle of Volnay and I think they might have given me 1 piece of bread, no refill). I asked anyone passing by ( sorry sir, I'm the sommelier, sorry sir, it's not my station etc.) if they could help and in retrospect, I'm amazed that I didn't walk out long before my amuse showed up. Our waitress, who had been mia, explained that our order had been lost in the kitchen and it was all her fault. I then had about 10 courses shoved at me in the next 1:15 (they needed my table). I don't remember much about the meal as I was too angry at that point to enjoy anything and that they tried to take most of my plates away from me before I had finished.

    They did send out a half glass of sauternes on the house with my foie gras course with the assurance that Charlie was pulling out all of the stops for us. Other than that, I think they offered to buy us a drink at the bar if we would leave our table immediately after our hurried desserts to make room for another party. Charlie's mother was circling the dining room asking if people enjoyed their meal. I told her about my experience and I think she ran away as quickly as possible. I paid the bill as presented and promised never to return.

    In a moment of weakness, a friend of mine called me many years later and asked if I wanted to join him and some of his business associates for a free dinner at Trotters in the dining room with the TV screens of the kitchen and I accepted. The dinner was pretty good.
  • Post #13 - February 22nd, 2008, 8:28 pm
    Post #13 - February 22nd, 2008, 8:28 pm Post #13 - February 22nd, 2008, 8:28 pm
    I'll give my rather unique example of Chef Trotter's magnanimous nature.

    A good friend and I and our companions ate at the kitchen table and made arrangements beforehand to bring in a bottle of 1964 Petrus. Of course, we ordered three other bottles and agreed to whatever corkage the house considered appropriate.

    Trotter created a special dish to go with the Petrus: Braised oxtail risotto of which each of the four portions had $50-$75 worth of fresh shaved white truffles on it.

    It would have been a wonderful gesture had we ordered such a bottle off his list. The fact that he would do it for a bottle brought in from my cellar completely blew me away.
  • Post #14 - February 22nd, 2008, 11:40 pm
    Post #14 - February 22nd, 2008, 11:40 pm Post #14 - February 22nd, 2008, 11:40 pm
    This topic has really blown me away and erased previous assumptions about Charlie Trotter's. I've only heard mediocre things about the place and like one person noted...a very bad experience calling them. Having eaten at Alinea recently I don't know how it could get much better, but I'll know when I visit Charlie's. I was about to book reservations for either Moto or Schwa but at this point they'll have to wait. Thanks for the detailed posts. :)
    GOOD TIMES!
  • Post #15 - April 17th, 2008, 6:13 am
    Post #15 - April 17th, 2008, 6:13 am Post #15 - April 17th, 2008, 6:13 am
    I just noticed this thread and thought I would add my own personal example of Charlie Trotter's magnanimous nature. This happened probably 5 or 6 years ago.

    To set up the situation, I've always been a big fan of Charlie Trotter's "Kitchen Sessions" PBS television show. I think it's the best cooking show I've ever seen. One thing from the show that I had noticed was a tall, somewhat narrow sauce pot that he used to make sauces that he blended in the pot itself with a hand-held "stick" blender. I had been looking all over for a similar pot to make sauces, but was unsuccessful.

    One night shortly afterwards my wife and I were with some friends dining at the kitchen table at Trotter's. Between a couple of courses I asked Charlie about the pot. I asked him what brand it was, as I had been unable to find one. Without saying a word, he held up his finger as to say "wait a moment" and disappeared into the studio kitchen. He came back a minute later with the pot and gave it to me! I can't remember the brand right now off the top of my head, but I remember finding it on the internet for over $100, so it was quite the nice gift.

    By the way, I've made sauces with the pot and they don't come out as well as his. Must be operator error.

    All the best,
    John
  • Post #16 - April 25th, 2008, 4:20 pm
    Post #16 - April 25th, 2008, 4:20 pm Post #16 - April 25th, 2008, 4:20 pm
    Interesting discovery this evening. I was looking for last-minute restaurant inspiration on OpenTable.com and discovered that not only is Trotters on OpenTable, but they could seat 3 of us at 5:30 today! That's not something you stumble across very often. (If only I could have made it to Trotters with 25 minutes' notice, I would have considered it.)
  • Post #17 - May 11th, 2008, 1:02 am
    Post #17 - May 11th, 2008, 1:02 am Post #17 - May 11th, 2008, 1:02 am
    First time at Trotters. I had a 200 gift certificate from my boss, and brought a friend from college. We're both 23, and were treated as if we dined at Trotters on a nightly basis. It was amazing.

    I can't decide what was better, the people working at CT or the food. The food has been described in this thread (and I've posted pictures of every course as well as the kitchen and behind the scenes stuff here:

    http://www.flickr.com/photos/mjkmjk/set ... 991893584/

    ), so I'm going to talk about the staff.


    EVERYONE
    made us feel like we were CT's best and most loyal customers. Our server served us complimentary twelves (that's a sweetened tea drink) after we said water would be fine...and then he noticed I had a camera and asked if we'd like to tour the kitchen and wine cellars after our meal; we got a chance to mingle with the sous chef and the line chefs and the pastry chefs, which was like taking two giddy kids into a candy shop, letting them loose, and then letting them meet Willy Wonkas who make it all happen.

    Every single dish was explained to us and we were told where everything came from. My favorites were the little hens (dish 2) and the chocolate desserts. My dining companion left with two full bottles of Trotters vinaigrettes and a cookbook after she requested that one of her portions be wrapped for later. I left with a full stomach, 60 pictures, and a fantastic dining experience.

    Mel
  • Post #18 - June 2nd, 2008, 8:30 pm
    Post #18 - June 2nd, 2008, 8:30 pm Post #18 - June 2nd, 2008, 8:30 pm
    Best dinner in Chicago yet.
  • Post #19 - June 2nd, 2008, 10:15 pm
    Post #19 - June 2nd, 2008, 10:15 pm Post #19 - June 2nd, 2008, 10:15 pm
    euthe wrote:Best dinner in Chicago yet.


    I used to think so too until I went to Schwa on Saturday. Now I'm not so sure.
  • Post #20 - June 12th, 2008, 3:10 pm
    Post #20 - June 12th, 2008, 3:10 pm Post #20 - June 12th, 2008, 3:10 pm
    Where do I begin? Who am I to bash the man who, 20 years ago, put Chicago on the world's culinary map; the great Charlie Trotter? What gives me the right? After all, I'm just some rube from the suburbs, so what could I possibly know about fine dining? Oh well, here I go, in spite of myself . . .

    In 1996, through a series of frustrating missteps, my first attempt to dine at Trotter's hit a brick wall. After a couple of unreturned phone calls, I gave up and decided that the table I wanted wasn't worth the amount of effort I was being required to spend obtaining it. Life is long, I thought. Sometime down the road there will be another chance, a more reasonable way, and when it comes along, I'll be sure to take advantage of it.

    Flash forward 12 years and my friend Gypsy Boy (whose toes I am probably stepping on by penning this account), who described his recent experience at CT's upthread, generously asked if I'd like to join him on his return visit. "Absolutely," I said. "I've always wanted to dine there." The reservations were made, and for the 10 weeks that followed, the anticipation built as I anxiously looked forward to our meal. Finally, I thought, I'd journey to the original epicenter of Chicago's nationally-recognized culinary scene.

    Even though it is normally an imposition for me to don any clothing beyond my boxers, when the day of our reservation finally arrived, I happily put on a blazer, slacks and shoes that required tying. This, in spite of the intense humidity and temperatures in the high 80's. It didn't matter. I was going to Trotter's and I was excited.

    Our experience began inauspiciously. We left our car with the valet and, as we'd arranged, waited outside the restaurant for our friends. I told the doorman who greeted us that we were waiting for our friends, whom I mentioned by name. He told me that they had not yet arrived. So, we waited. Nearly 15 minutes passed and with the exact time of our reservation now slightly past, we decided to get out of the sticky heat and head inside. Up the stairs we climbed, past the prominently displayed Relais Gourmandes plaque on the wall, and into the restaurant's waiting area where, we discovered, our friends were actually waiting for us. I was perturbed by this because, even though our friends explained that they'd arrived and entered while the doorman was away from his post, I assumed that he would have checked before telling us that they had not arrived. He didn't and we'd waited outside needlessly. No worries, though, because that was now behind us and we were all together, and heading upstairs to our table.

    Table service started out most excellently, with champagne being poured for 3 of us and a non-alcoholic bubbly being poured for one of us. This was done without request, as the restaurant was well aware of the non-drinker's preference. After briefly perusing the menus, 3 of us ordered the Grand Menu with the standard wine pairings and one of us ordered the Vegetable Menu with no pairings.

    I'm not going to spend a lot of time describing the food. Our reactions to the courses were mixed but mostly favorable. There were some consensus hits and misses, and some dishes on which we didn't all agree. I only tasted one dish from the Vegetable Menu, a tasty artichoke soup, but my favorite savory course from the Grand Menu was a delicious and well-executed crispy quail preparation, which was accented by a rich, chicken liver-based sauce, and chorizo, which had been turned into a delicate ribbon. IMO, the highlight of the meal was the desserts. They were inventive, thoughtful, distinctive and delicious.

    As our meal progressed, some conspicuous service issues emerged. I'm not sure what exactly was going on but our primary server seemed sullen and unhappy. Gypsy Boy, who is far more understanding than I, was convinced that she was new, even though I'm not certain that it should matter. If she wasn't capable of properly waiting tables without being trailed, she should not have been entrusted with the task. In any event, she was relatively unfriendly and not very helpful, either. At one point, when we asked her if a French chardonnay we'd been served was oaked, she responded with only a "yes" and immediately walked away from the table. Her descriptions of our dishes were perfunctory and barely audible. It seemed to me that she was simply going through the motions. Her lacking manner may not have been so obvious, save for the fact that during a later course, another server came to our table and eloquently described what we'd been served. Her manner was entirely different. She spoke to us like she actually cared, and she provided salient details about our food, at an audible level. This made me realize that we had probably ended up with an unfortunate draw.

    But other service issues arose that had nothing to do with our primary server. At least twice, plates arrived at the table with the food upon them toppled over. Somehow, between the kitchen and the table, these platings did not survive as the kitchen executed them. Had it happened only once, I would have figured it was an anomaly. But it happened to multiple plates on multiple courses. Given the venue and its reputation, this reflected a notable level of carelessness. Additionally, at various times, my and other water glasses sat empty on the table. Early in the meal, when GB asked for a copy of the menu, so that we could follow along, a long time (2 courses, iirc) passed before it was brought to him. When I got up to use the restroom, I returned to the table and found my roughly folded napkin sitting on the table, exactly where I'd left it. During dessert, one of my companions waited too long for a coffee refill and actually had to ask for it -- as a server glided past our table -- rather than having it offered to him.

    The most ironic and possibly egregious error of all happened after our meal, when the check was brought to the table. I was not aware until that moment that the house automatically adds an 18% service charge to the bill. That, in and of itself, does not bother me in the least, although given the quality of the service that had been provided, it was pretty bemusing. I have to say that even when service is poor, I generally tip 20%, so I was delighted that on this evening, I only had to tip 18%. You want your 18%? Fine with me. I was happy to oblige. However, a careless mathematical error was made on Gypsy Boy's portion of the bill and the service charge added to it was way more (2x, iirc) than it should have been. He pointed this out to one of the hosts, who apologized and returned shortly thereafter with a corrected bill.

    This dining experience was, unfortunately, a comedy of errors that was certainly not befitting a restaurant that counts itself as one of the finest in the world. I wasn't offended or outraged by anything that happened, just stunned by it, relative to my other fine-dining experiences. And for $663 (the bill for my wife and I), I do expect far more. Had any one of the gaffes occured singularly, it would have been minor but add them all together and our experience was verging on disastrous. When my wife went to the restroom, she witnessed a heated 'discussion' between members of the service staff because some plates were out and ready before a table's wine had been poured. Perhaps this was a hint of the level of chaos that was going on behind the scenes. Unfortunately, the service we received didn't belie this incident, but instead, merely provided additional context for it.

    Maybe the hot, humid weather had something to do with it but on this night CT's reminded me a bit of Brennan's in New Orleans; an overrated, over-the-hill restaurant riding on its reputation and resting on its laurels. The service charge aspect drove home the feeling that the venerable Charlie Trotter's has become a something of a tourist trap. I do wish I'd gone there when it was still fighting its way up the hill rather than after it appeared to have hit the 'coasting' stage. Who knows . . . maybe it was just a bad night. But, considering that they knew that Gypsy Boy had service issues during his previous visit, I was really surprised by the experience we had. This was essentially their response to his letter and he actually felt like the service during this visit was worse than the service which prompted the letter in the first place. Is this what a great, world-class restaurant is supposed to be? For the sake of Chicago's culinary reputation, I certainly hope not.

    =R=
    Same planet, different world
  • Post #21 - June 12th, 2008, 4:40 pm
    Post #21 - June 12th, 2008, 4:40 pm Post #21 - June 12th, 2008, 4:40 pm
    Ronnie,

    Wow, I would definitely put this in a letter to the restaurant, as you never should experience this kind of evening at a place of CT caliber. You've got either a refund coming or a return trip on the house.

    I've eaten at CT 5 times that I can recall over the year, every time at the kitchen table and the last time being a couple of years ago. Two of those times Charlie was not manning the kitchen. I can attest that the place definitely operates differently, and not for the better, when he's not there. And I don't know how much he's there any more.

    The reason I say you should write to them is because of something I heard CT tell someone about 10 years ago. I was at a book signing of his and someone asked a question about the restaurant. The guy asking the question said that he had never been to the restaurant because of the price. CT told him that if the guy came to the restaurant and it wasn't the best dining experience he had ever had, the table would be free. Now I know that CT is full of bravado, but it's a bold statement to make in public and you might call him on it and see what happens.
  • Post #22 - June 12th, 2008, 6:35 pm
    Post #22 - June 12th, 2008, 6:35 pm Post #22 - June 12th, 2008, 6:35 pm
    ronnie_suburban wrote:This dining experience was, unfortunately, a comedy of errors that was certainly not befitting a restaurant that counts itself as one of the finest in the world.

    Were it not for the meal I had there last week, I might have been a little skeptical of your description, Ronnie. Not that I doubt your honesty, but in every prior meal I've had at Trotter's, service has been unimpeachable. Though some of the particulars differed, I also experienced a number of significant service gaffes. I hoped it was just an isolated incident. Sorry you weren't able to experience their service team's A-game in your first experience there, because it can be a thing of real beauty. (I didn't write a letter to the restaurant, but did offer some comments through the new feedback feature on OpenTable, authorizing them to be forwarded to the restaurant.)

    Trotter was in the restaurant, the night I dined there. He walked through the dining room carrying--I kid you not--a labrador puppy, which he held and stroked as he stopped to talk with a table of regulars. (While he was in the dining room, I was in the latter moments of a nearly half-hour wait between courses.)

    Scott
  • Post #23 - June 12th, 2008, 7:37 pm
    Post #23 - June 12th, 2008, 7:37 pm Post #23 - June 12th, 2008, 7:37 pm
    I am presented with the same quandary as my esteemed friend, Ronnie: where to begin?

    First, I think, by saying that I am very sorry that a dinner that should have been fun and celebratory was less than that. As Ronnie said, this was a “follow-up” dinner. I posted on the original dinner upthread and also wrote a lengthy and even more detailed letter to the restaurant. In response, I received a very thoughtful and generous response from the general manager, inviting us to contact him if and when we decided to return.

    That dinner had been in February and by the time spring rolled around and the menu had changed, it seemed like an appropriate time to return. (Besides, one needs to save up for these outings.) We decided to invite Ronnie and Julie to join us. As Ronnie has noted, we arrived first and, purely coincidentally, the doorman who normally greets customers and opens the front door wasn’t there. (I saw him rushing toward us, too late, out of the corner of my eye.) No big deal; I don’t have a problem opening the door for myself and he is, after all, entitled to get up and stretch his legs.

    We were greeted warmly once inside and clearly there were notes next to our names on the computer. Since we were early, we seated ourselves in the lobby/bar area and had a drink while we waited. For most of this time, we weren’t near the front window and so I had no occasion to look outside. Then, when an older woman arrived and I gave up my seat, we moved to the bar. Soon, looking out, I saw Ron and Julie standing there, looking in a different direction. I mentioned it to the Lovely Dining Companion and we wondered what they might be waiting for, little suspecting that it was us. After a minute or two of this, Ronnie decided to come in and so we met, fortunately.

    I have to agree with him on the wrong-footing: how could the person outside possibly know whether we had arrived without checking? It’s simply inconceivable to me that he would say we weren’t there yet; we had arrived about ten to fifteen minutes early, and spent all of that time in the little lobby.

    I will agree with most of Ronnie’s observations save one: the young woman whom he identifies as our server was not, in my opinion, our server at all. She only ever appeared to present a new bottle, identify it, and pour it. That’s it. I believe that a different person entirely was our server. How could two reasonably well and presumably compos mentis adults disagree on the identity of the server? Beats me. But I will part company with Ronnie here. In the event, I agree that, whatever her job, she did not do it well: responding to my question about the oaking of a French chardonnay with one word and then walking away is nothing less than rude in my book. I will ascribe much of her behavior that evening to nerves and newness: I think she was just learning her job and was nervous. It’s happened to us all. No, it shouldn’t happen at a place like this and under circumstances like this, but I’m inclined to be forgiving here. I think “sullen and unhappy” is a bit harsh, though she was certainly neither warm nor outgoing.

    Unfortunately, the young man who was apparently serving as sommelier that evening, while much more personable, was a bit too erudite for me. He knew his stuff; he just came off as too pedantic for my taste. Particularly given the extraordinarily wonderful experience I had had with the sommelier on our last visit, it was a disappointment.

    Other services issues were pretty much as noted. I’ll confess that I didn’t notice the empty water glasses myself, although I was more than a little surprised at how long my coffee cup sat empty before I finally, and with surprisingly great difficulty, flagged someone down to get a refill. So, too, I was quite surprised that a request early on for the menus so we could follow along was evidently forgotten (our wine server’s fault again, I’m afraid). When the menus were eventually brought, they were clearly “packaged” as keepsakes in a protective envelope and I was taken aback that both sets were handed to Julie—nothing to either me or LDC. (I also thought, to echo a comment just made--that the wait between a few courses was longer than seemed comfortable.)

    I noticed one “toppled” presentation and missed the other and I didn’t witness Ronnie’s unfolded napkin, though I saw that both mine and LDC’s were replaced instantly on our departures/returns. As to the service charge issue, I am completely befuddled. Our dinners and one pairing were, I think, $335. I was nonplussed when the service charge—supposed to be 18% (about $60)--was listed as $230! Plus tax on top of that. It was handled promptly and properly: an apology and a quick correction.

    I recite all of these little things because my feeling is, ultimately, the same as Ronnie’s. Had these things happened many (if not most) places, I would have shrugged them off. Few of them, with the exception of the flip answer to my question about the wine, bothered me too much and few ultimately mattered that much, in the end. But the stream of incidents, one after another after another, left a sour taste. To be fair, many things went right. The welcome was warm and genuine. The food was absolutely first-rate. Indeed, as Ronnie noted, they were well aware that LDC does not drink alcohol and served her a fruit tea infusion for an amuse; noting her enjoyment, they served it to her throughout the meal. Not every dish was to my taste, nor would I ever expect that from a tasting menu. There were nevertheless some truly exquisite dishes. Indeed, had the service throughout matched the quality of the meal, I would have been quite happy.

    As we descended the stairs on our way out, we were invited to tour the kitchen, a fascinating experience. We didn’t have the opportunity on our first visit, so this was a real treat and we all enjoyed it. (FWIW, none of us noticed CT’s presence in the kitchen.)

    But I’m left with this thought: this is Charlie Trotter’s. We paid $500 for dinner; well over $1100 for four meals. When you’re playing in that league, there’s simply no excuse for a doorman not to check, for a wine steward to give a one word answer and depart, for requested menus to be forgotten, for food to be presented inappropriately, for water glasses and coffee cups to go unfilled, for napkins to be ignored, for a huge error in a service charge.... It’s too many things happening to the same table and it’s wrong.

    Will we return? I can, with some confidence, say “I think so.” But it won’t be for a while. Probably quite a while.

    P.S. I skip over the food in the interest of getting this posted. I will post pictures and some descriptions of the food later and hope that I can prevail on Ronnie to add some of his pics and reactions as well. The food was far too good to skip over and I think we both owe it to the restaurant and the community here to talk about it.
    Gypsy Boy

    "I am not a glutton--I am an explorer of food." (Erma Bombeck)
  • Post #24 - June 12th, 2008, 9:40 pm
    Post #24 - June 12th, 2008, 9:40 pm Post #24 - June 12th, 2008, 9:40 pm
    Like our beloved Mayor, CT does it for the children as well.

    Unfortunately, my only experience with him personally was standing behind him last year at the Treasure Island on Clybourn checkout watching him buy 3 bottles of Draino. I made a hamhanded attempt to make a joke, said I was fan of his show and he was on his way.
  • Post #25 - June 12th, 2008, 10:10 pm
    Post #25 - June 12th, 2008, 10:10 pm Post #25 - June 12th, 2008, 10:10 pm
    Scott--DFW wrote:Trotter was in the restaurant, the night I dined there. He walked through the dining room carrying--I kid you not--a labrador puppy, which he held and stroked as he stopped to talk with a table of regulars. (While he was in the dining room, I was in the latter moments of a nearly half-hour wait between courses.)

    This is a very funny image and is reminiscent of a scene from a movie. I thought the intervals between some of our courses were a bit lengthy but since I'd never been there before I wasn't sure if that was the standard or not. I did, however, appreciate them because they allowed for long streams of uninterrupted conversation at the table.

    Gypsy Boy wrote:First, I think, by saying that I am very sorry that a dinner that should have been fun and celebratory was less than that.

    Well, in spite of everything, we had a great time. The company at the table was absolutely stellar.

    Gypsy Boy wrote:I will agree with most of Ronnie’s observations save one: the young woman whom he identifies as our server was not, in my opinion, our server at all. She only ever appeared to present a new bottle, identify it, and pour it. That’s it. I believe that a different person entirely was our server. How could two reasonably well and presumably compos mentis adults disagree on the identity of the server? Beats me. But I will part company with Ronnie here.

    Of course, I could be wrong and I often am. That said, I'm fairly certain that she provided most of the descriptions of the dishes we were served because I often found myself straining to hear her. Julie's (my wife) memory of this lines up pretty much with mine but who knows, we could both be remembering it wrong.

    Gypsy Boy wrote:Unfortunately, the young man who was apparently serving as sommelier that evening, while much more personable, was a bit too erudite for me. He knew his stuff; he just came off as too pedantic for my taste. Particularly given the extraordinarily wonderful experience I had had with the sommelier on our last visit, it was a disappointment.

    Yes, at least he was enthusiastic.

    Gypsy Boy wrote:When the menus were eventually brought, they were clearly “packaged” as keepsakes in a protective envelope and I was taken aback that both sets were handed to Julie—nothing to either me or LDC.

    Yes, now that you mention it, it was odd that all the keepsake menus were handed to Julie.

    Gypsy Boy wrote:As we descended the stairs on our way out, we were invited to tour the kitchen, a fascinating experience. We didn’t have the opportunity on our first visit, so this was a real treat and we all enjoyed it.

    Yes, that was cool and it is also worth noting that the woman who led us to the kitchen and the woman who provided the kitchen tour itself were both extremely pleasant and enthusiastic.

    Gypsy Boy wrote:P.S. I skip over the food in the interest of getting this posted. I will post pictures and some descriptions of the food later and hope that I can prevail on Ronnie to add some of his pics and reactions as well. The food was far too good to skip over and I think we both owe it to the restaurant and the community here to talk about it.

    I actually think I liked more of the courses than you did. The only non-dessert dish I didn't like at all was the sake/asian pear/jasmine rice bridge course.

    =R=
    Same planet, different world
  • Post #26 - June 13th, 2008, 5:15 am
    Post #26 - June 13th, 2008, 5:15 am Post #26 - June 13th, 2008, 5:15 am
    ronnie_suburban wrote:
    Gypsy Boy wrote:First, I think, by saying that I am very sorry that a dinner that should have been fun and celebratory was less than that.

    Well, in spite of everything, we had a great time. The company at the table was absolutely stellar.

    :oops: Well, of course, the feeling is mutual and that goes (almost) without saying!

    ronnie_suburban wrote:
    Gypsy Boy wrote:I will agree with most of Ronnie’s observations save one: the young woman whom he identifies as our server was not, in my opinion, our server at all. She only ever appeared to present a new bottle, identify it, and pour it. That’s it. I believe that a different person entirely was our server. How could two reasonably well and presumably compos mentis adults disagree on the identity of the server? Beats me. But I will part company with Ronnie here.

    Of course, I could be wrong and I often am. That said, I'm fairly certain that she provided most of the descriptions of the dishes we were served because I often found myself straining to hear her. Julie's (my wife) memory of this lines up pretty much with mine but who knows, we could both be remembering it wrong.

    This may be the puzzle of the evening since the Lovely Dining Companion—while confessing to not paying quite so much attention—is inclined to agree with me. Ach! Who knows? In any event, I will stand by my earlier review of her foibles and my sense of where they arose. As to how much, if any, of her problems should be excused is, needless to say, an important question.

    ronnie_suburban wrote:
    Gypsy Boy wrote:P.S. I skip over the food in the interest of getting this posted. I will post pictures and some descriptions of the food later and hope that I can prevail on Ronnie to add some of his pics and reactions as well. The food was far too good to skip over and I think we both owe it to the restaurant and the community here to talk about it.

    I actually think I liked more of the courses than you did. The only non-dessert dish I didn't like at all was the sake/asian pear/jasmine rice bridge course.


    Now, Ronnie. You know that that is not what I meant. I have pictures and, if necessary, I will use them! I hope this weekend to be able to sit down and go through both the Grand and Vegetable (not, I should note, Vegetarian—a mistake I once made) Menus as well as the wine pairings with some comments. I think that, service issues to the side, the food is more than worthy of our attention. Though I wasn't quite as taken with this menu as I was with the one in February, there were, once again, several dishes that I thought were truly excellent and others which, though perhaps not personal favorites, were exceptional in their own right.
    Gypsy Boy

    "I am not a glutton--I am an explorer of food." (Erma Bombeck)
  • Post #27 - June 13th, 2008, 6:01 am
    Post #27 - June 13th, 2008, 6:01 am Post #27 - June 13th, 2008, 6:01 am
    Gypsy Boy wrote:This may be the puzzle of the evening ............

    GB,

    Seems telling there is any disagreement at all as to who was the server.

    Enjoy,
    Gary
    Hold my beer . . .

    Low & Slow
  • Post #28 - June 13th, 2008, 6:10 am
    Post #28 - June 13th, 2008, 6:10 am Post #28 - June 13th, 2008, 6:10 am
    G Wiv wrote:
    Gypsy Boy wrote:This may be the puzzle of the evening ............

    GB,

    Seems telling there is any disagreement at all as to who was the server.


    I agree except for one thing. At any place like Trotter's or Alinea (to pick two totally at random), every table usually has many people "serving" it over the course of the meal. Given the number of courses and the timing issues--all of which can be complicated by the wine service--I think it is usual and expected for there to be several different servers. I nevertheless agree that in most cases the diners ought to be in agreement on who the primary server is. So I think in this case it will just be easiest if you assume that I'm right. :lol:
    Gypsy Boy

    "I am not a glutton--I am an explorer of food." (Erma Bombeck)
  • Post #29 - June 15th, 2008, 10:02 am
    Post #29 - June 15th, 2008, 10:02 am Post #29 - June 15th, 2008, 10:02 am
    Gypsy Boy wrote:I will agree with most of Ronnie’s observations save one: the young woman whom he identifies as our server was not, in my opinion, our server at all. She only ever appeared to present a new bottle, identify it, and pour it. That’s it. I believe that a different person entirely was our server. How could two reasonably well and presumably compos mentis adults disagree on the identity of the server? Beats me. But I will part company with Ronnie here.

    ronnie_suburban wrote:Of course, I could be wrong and I often am. That said, I'm fairly certain that she provided most of the descriptions of the dishes we were served because I often found myself straining to hear her. Julie's (my wife) memory of this lines up pretty much with mine but who knows, we could both be remembering it wrong.


    Gypsy Boy wrote:
    G Wiv wrote:
    Gypsy Boy wrote:This may be the puzzle of the evening ............

    GB,

    Seems telling there is any disagreement at all as to who was the server.


    I agree except for one thing. At any place like Trotter's or Alinea (to pick two totally at random), every table usually has many people "serving" it over the course of the meal. Given the number of courses and the timing issues--all of which can be complicated by the wine service--I think it is usual and expected for there to be several different servers. I nevertheless agree that in most cases the diners ought to be in agreement on who the primary server is. So I think in this case it will just be easiest if you assume that I'm right. :lol:

    Not to beat a dead horse, but one reason I have confidently referred to this woman all along as our primary server is because her first name and last initial are shown at the top of our bill, something I just remembered last night.

    =R=
    Same planet, different world
  • Post #30 - June 15th, 2008, 12:55 pm
    Post #30 - June 15th, 2008, 12:55 pm Post #30 - June 15th, 2008, 12:55 pm
    The squab I had at Charlie Trotter's in April is perhaps the single most delicious thing I've ever had; specifically the squab's leg.

    We did not experience any service gaffes while dining there and I'm a bit surprised at the events described recently in this thread.

    The only thing coming close to a service gaffe was our refusal of the super-expensive wine pairing and the servers apparent befuddlement and annoyance with our lack of appreciation of the first wine offering - something to laugh at, really.

    This may seem pedestrian, however, when I find myself at a restaurant of Charlie Trotter's calibre I do not judge the service on the same plane I judge the taste of the dishes being served. That being said, I do expect a level of service higher than that of TGIF.

    Since this thread has evolved into focusing on service I feel I must contribute in some way to that area. I would rate service at Charlie Trotter's as top notch. The most impressed I've been with the level of service has come from Moto. It is appropriate to note that the level of food at Charlie Trotter's far outdid that of Moto, for me, personally.

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