Belly Shack

While Belly Shack was certainly not my absolute favorite meal while in Chicago (I mean, it was up against some stiff competition), it definitely was not my least favorite. In fact, there are at least a couple of dishes that warm my soul just from thinking about them.

Being a Korean-American chef and serving up non-Korean food with Korean flavor profiles is pretty trendy these days. But it's one of those trends I don't really mind, as long as the chef is bringing something new to the table. If you're just now trying to make another Korean taco truck, just stop. Roy Choi's got that covered. Seriously. Stop it. Other than that, I love seeing how chefs incorporate flavors that I grew up with into well-balanced, thoughtful dishes.

Belly Shack's Bill Kim doesn't necessarily rise to the level of, say, David Chang, but he does have a serious knack (kind of like Roy Choi) for understanding and delivering familiar, and somewhat updated, comfort food. The restaurant is pitched as a marriage of Korean and Puerto Rican flavors ("Ko-Rican")--some were shining examples of the concept, others suggested a less passionate relationship.

The space is obviously influenced by urban street culture with tagged walls, industrial colors, and metallic seating arrangements. The space is simple, though, and eerily clean. Naturally, my two friends, Janice K. and Steph C., and I ordered a sizable chunk of the menu.

First was one of my absolute favorites: Hot & Sour Soup. Rich, tangy, hearty, complex, and clean--a clever intersection of tortilla soup and a traditional Chinese hot and sour soup. Neither contribution of flavor profiles crowded the other: the bright cilantro and characteristically zesty broth balanced out the heartier hominy and juicy chunks of chicken. Gulping this down in a few heartbeats was tough to resist, mainly because the soup seemed to taste better with each and every spoonful.

The two downers of the night were strangled with large nets of noodles. The first victim was the Asian Pork Meatball Sandwich. Multiple porky meatballs topped with a mountain of flavorless somen noodles (too much unnecessary starch!) and stuffed into an awkward piece of dry and floury pita bread (maybe an Italian Giuseppe bread of sorts instead?). The measly topping of crispy shallots wasn't enough to save the texturally deficient sandwich and the topping was a sadly sweet rendition of Korean chili paste (go-chu-jang), that the table agreed would be better replaced by some gutsier sriracha, and perhaps a spritz of lemon or lime.

The second strangulation was the Belly Dog, a thick and more flavorful pita topped with a juicy, grilled dog, a mountain of crispy (read: often limp) egg noodles, crispy shallots, and pickled green papaya. This might have fared better with a sauce (sriracha-lime aioli?) alongside the crispy shallots and pickled green papaya. The egg noodles were absolutely unnecessary.

The side of Togarashi Spiced Fries with curry mayonnnaise were good, but mainly because of the sauce and addition of togarashi. The fries themselves were unfortunately a bit soggy at times.

Okay. Now back to the good part! Served in a typical Korean metal rice bowl, the Edamame was delicious. Some more of those crispy shallots and "Seoul sauce." I was hesitant about the sauce, mainly because it was packaged for sale right next to the cashier, and most bottled Korean marinades, especially when labeled "Seoul sauce," tend to be overly sweet and salty with nothing beyond generous portions of garlic, soy sauce, and sesame oil. But this was different. It was not too salty or sweet, with a notable balance of acid, heat, and balsamic vinegar. The sauce exceeded my expectations and made each pod of edamame rise above its typical minimalist, salt-sprinkled preparation.

My other favorite of the meal was the Brussel Sprouts & Chorizo. The quartered greens were cooked through with the perfect amount of caramelization and sometimes a welcome char. The chorizo was rich and hearty, lightened up by some cilantro and punchy fish sauce. The crispy wontons on top were a great addition for texture and a tad bit of starch to simmer down the other bold flavors. So, so good.

I also thoroughly enjoyed the Boricua with Marinated Beef. Next to the Hot & Sour Soup, this was probably the next most successful display of Asian and Puerto Rican influences. A fun mix of Korean ingredients smashed between two flattened fried plantains. The plantains were surprisingly crispy and satisfying as a substitute for bread. The beef was delicious, with a tasty and well-balanced bulgogi-like marinade.

The layer of brown rice and bean sprouts mashed with a heavy helping of hoisin BBQ sauce and a sauce similar to Thai chili sauce was a perfect, sweet, tangy, and delicious way to complement the starchy plantain. It also reminded me of how, as a kid (and now), I would love to mash my brown rice with tons of butter, bean sprouts, and a soy sauce, green onion, sushi vinegar, sesame oil, lemon juice, garlic, and red chili flake sauce (at least, that's what I think went into it--I should ask my mom about that). A real throwback to my childhood.

And of course, to finish off our Chicago trip, we had to get some Soft Serve with Bacon Chocolate Chip. The ice cream was classic--creamy, sweet, and smooth. The bacon sprinkle was fun, but I was kind of hoping for a larger, saltier portion of the stuff. The chocolate chip cookie chunks were a little hard, but I liked how the brittle chunks added some great texture to the dessert. Still, I wonder what the dessert would have tasted like with freshly-baked, soft chocolate chip cookies and chunks of crispy, salty maple-glazed bacon.

All in all, I'm a fan of what Bill Kim has to add to what sometimes seems like an over-saturated food trend. Belly Shack was a great, comforting way to round out a crash course in Chicago's food scene and to hobble onto a plane in the cold weather back to Seattle--happy, inspired, and satisfied.

Belly Shack
1912 N Western Ave
Chicago, IL 60647
(773) 252-1414
http://www.bellyshack.com/

GET: Hot & Sour Soup; Edamame; Brussel Sprouts & Chorizo; Boricua with Marinated Beef.

Girl & the Goat

My idealistic goals of writing at least a few posts in the past two-and-a-half months or so were just plain silly. After another great trip to LA, my last set of law school finals (huzzah!), a celebratory drive down to Portland for Memorial Day weekend, graduation (it's official!), and one of the absolute worst experiences of my life (the bar, or as some of my friends now refer to the test-that-shall-not-be-named, the bratwurst), I'm back.

And to celebrate the return of this here blog, tonight, I'd like to share one of a just a couple more experiences from my January trip to Chicago: Girl & the Goat.

I had been a huge fan of Stephanie Izard during her season of Top Chef.  She always seemed focused on flavor, put-together, drama-proof, and generally a nice person who didn't crumble under the extreme pressures of reality television. When she became a "Best New Chef" in Food & Wine magazine, I was excited. Something about that award, and the countless others that followed, legitimized what Top Chef tested and who Top Chef crowned. And after attempting a few of her cookbook recipes at home, I was more than curious to see what her restaurant had to offer.

The interior is, to say the least, spacious, with vaulted ceilings, smart lighting, a walk-in friendly lounge and bar, and a beautiful display of liquors.

Your safest bet, however, is to make a reservation. The bar and lounge can fill up quickly, and relying on a last-minute cancellation can be stressful. But if you don't end up making a reservation, peeking your head in can't hurt.

I went with, obviously, Steph C., my partner in indulgent mastication.  And indulge and masticate we did.

The night started on one of its highest notes with Chickpea Fritters, served in a rich stew of chickpeas, pickles, and red onions topped with a drizzle of creamy mozzarella.  The stew was comforting, packed with sweet tomatoes and well-cooked chickpeas, brightened up with a the crisp red onions and acidic pickles.

The star of the dish, however, was the incredible chickpea fritter.  Lightly fried and crisp on the outside, soft and silky on the inside.  Like with a cube of agedashi tofu, cutting into this fritter was effortless.

Next up were some Grilled Rainier Oysters. I'm an oyster purest. I like my oysters freshly shucked and immediately eaten.  No mignonettes, no lemon, no horseradish.  Because an oyster by itself, in its rawest form, is magical. These, however, were good, if not better than good. The oyster meat itself was warm and just barely cooked on the outside, opening up to the oyster's glorious briny juices. Topped with just a touch of some acidic finger lime and a velvety, smoked uni vinaigrette, this is one cooked oyster that this purest would not mind having again.

Our adventure continued with one of my favorites of the night: Pan Fried Shishito Peppers. Holy shishito these were tasty. Beautifully blistered, well-salted, and topped with generous portions of parmesan, sesame, and miso.  The texture was perfect with an easy bite and a light crispy shell.  Any remnants of the cooked-off spiciness was well-balanced with the creamy parmesan and sweet miso glaze.  The smart sprinkle of sesame rounded out the dish with a definitive Asian flavor profile.  I need to attempt to make these at home at some point. Soon. They'd be the perfect every-second-of-the-day snack.

A snack I wouldn't want to have every second of the day is their Ham Frites. Not because I didn't love these guys, but because these have no chance of ever coming off as a healthy snack.  At least with the peppers you're eating a veggie with some sesame seeds. And some sweet miso.... And some creamy parmesan....

But really, it'd be the healthier snack when put up against a basket of ham fries, right?  Especially when those wonderfully crunchy and salty fries come topped with a generous dusting of dehydrated ham, flanked by a smoked tomato aioli and a cheddar beer sauce.  Oh, that cheddar beer sauce. So, so good. Needless to say, this dish was heavy, and Steph and I had a hard time getting anywhere near the bottom of the basket.

Another one of my favorites of the night was the Diver Scallops. Scallops are easily one of my favorite proteins. Creamy, toothsome, and, when seared, crisp with a capital C.

The sear was perfect, as was the cook. The scallops sat in a mixture of goat broth and XO sauce that was both gamey and briny with each slurp. Under the scallops were bok choy, gems of squash, and pizza poofs, which each added their own forms of texture and heartiness.

The Crispy Duck Tongues were our sad attempt at getting something that remotely resembled a salad. The fried duck tongues were perfect--lightly crisp and insanely delicious. This, balanced with the acidity of Satsuma oranges, earthy roasted shiitake mushrooms, and bright Thai basil made for a very memorable dish. The bitter bits of arugula, punchy pickled red onions, and crispy sprinkle of wonton rounded out any excessively meaty bites.

Another great dish (holy cow, I forgot how many amazing plates we ate that night) was the Grilled Baby Octopus. The octopus was tender and perfectly grilled with just the right amount of char. When tossed with a smart understanding of hearty guanciale, Romano beans, radishes, and an appropriately nutty, sweet, and acidic pistachio-lemon vinaigrette, the octopus danced on my tongue with all four pairs of arms.

The Hen of the Woods Mushroom Ragout, in terms of flavor, at least, was great. The combination of sweet potato and earthy mushrooms was one of the most comforting bites I had in the midst of an acutely cold evening. The capers were a bit questionable after the first few bites, and the agnolotti could have been a touch more cooked, but the rich shroom creme fraiche was incredible, and overall, I liked what was going on in this dish.

The Sugo, however, was undeniably delicious. The al dente sheets of pappardelle were addictive, and a perfect balance of hearty beef/pork/goat/veal sugo (I mean, how can that not be amazing), rosemary, and cape gooseberries made each bite burst with a beautiful combination of rich umami, pleasant sweetness, familiar herbal notes, and delicate tartness.

The night, unfortunately, ended with our two least favorite dishes. The Confit Goat Belly was excessive. It could have been excessive simply because we had eaten more than our fair share at that point, but it was also excessive because the distinctive gaminess of the goat was only burdened by the heavy hand of bourbon butter, lobster, and crab. The fennel made meager attempts to brighten the dish, but overall, there was a noticeable lack of acidity.

The special Wood-Oven Roasted Pig Face was just as heavy, though I think the problem had more to do with the excessive portion of pig face than anything else.

The fried egg, tamarind and cilantro sauces, red-wine maple drizzle, and crispy potatoes were great, and would probably have gone really well with a small portion of the goat belly. Girl & the Goat brunch, anyone?

My favorite of the two desserts we ordered (because ordering dessert was masochistically appropriate at that point), despite its richness and chocolatey-ness, was the Chocolate-Thai Chili Gelato with an incredibly moist chocolate cake, addictive whipped-cream-like peanut fluff, tart pomegranate, and Left Hand Milk stout. The gelato could have used more of a kick and I would have liked some more pomegranate, but as far as chocolate desserts go (I'm not usually a big fan), this was pretty great.

The Gingerbread Cake with cranberry-orange sorbet, caramel, orange cream, and candied ginger was more up my alley, but was a bit less interesting. A pretty great blend of tartness, creaminess, and gingery kick.

Eleven savory dishes and two sweet dishes later, I suppose I was satisfied. If satisfied means bursting at the seams, even with my most forgiving pair of jeans. I spent the entire night intermittently looking at the huge, well-displayed, and geometric open kitchen with hopes of seeing Stephanie Izard, but to no avail. I took one last look at the kitchen before walking back out into the bitter, unforgiving Chicago cold, wishing I could have eaten just one more dish.

Girl & the Goat
809 W Randolph St
Chicago, IL 60607
(312) 492-6262
http://www.girlandthegoat.com/

GET: Chickpea Fritters; Pan Fried Shishito Peppers; Diver Scallops;Crispy Duck Tongues; Grilled Baby Octopus; Sugo.

Longman & Eagle

After sitting through hours of snowstorm delays from Seattle to Chicago in January, Longman & Eagle was a beautiful sight for sore eyes, a filling feast for a hungry stomach, and a fountain of flavor for a parched throat.  Nothing against left feet, but the second I walked into the place, I knew my trip to Chicago was going to start off on the right foot.

If I ever get to open up my own cocktail and small plates joint, I would take a lot of inspiration from Longman & Eagle, which happens to take a lot of inspiration, in decor at least, from what I would find in Seattle or Portland: wood paneling, flannel button-downs, repurposed bits of furniture and design, affordable prices ($8 cocktails!), and a very casual and friendly vibe.  This is not your typical one-Michelin-star restaurant.  Except when it comes to some very special plates of food.

Steph C., my friend Janice, and I started our 11:00pm snowstorm therapy session with a round of cocktails and a couple Warm Cheese Grougeres.

Like dark, savory Beard Papa pastry cream puffs, these aromatic grougeres' flaky, croissant-like exteriors opened up to a creamy, addictive Dunbarton blue Mornay sauce.  Although the sauce didn't flow out like a poached egg's yolk, the starch soaked up the warm, cheesy, and perfectly salty sauce like a sponge.  Basically, a cheese and croissant lover's dream.

Buffalo Sweetbreads were up next, featuring aerated ranch, hot sauce, Thumbelina carrots, and micro celery.  The sweetbreads were rich, melting in my mouth after crunching through their thoughtfully fried exteriors.  Where a standard ranch sauce would add more heaviness, the aerated ranch had a bright effect on each bite.  The fluffy creaminess of the ranch played well with the punchy, yet familiar hot sauce, while the micro celery and intensely flavorful carrots helped to complete this play on a standard basket of wings and celery.  So, so good, and probably my favorite of the night.

Not to be outshone, the Swan Creek Rabbit Pâté brought an impressive mix of spice, fat, meat, and acid.  The pâté came wrapped in a fatty layer of bacon, while the pâté itself had a noticeably peppery flavor, toothsome texture, and subtle gaminess.  The side of pickled giardinière vegetables sprinkled with mustard seeds and the whole-grain mustard brought some balanced and needed acidity.  Don't bother with the teeth-shattering crostini.  The pâté and pickled veggies stand perfectly fine without the bread, anyway.

I think the whole table agreed that the weakest dish of the night was the Pastrami Spiced Pig Head. This heavy cylinder of meat came with an unpleasantly gooey sauerkraut gnocchi, an unappetizing thousand island sugo, a hard-to-notice shaved pear-watercress salad, and a tasteless sprinkle of dehydrated rye.  While the concept of a delicious take on a pastrami sandwich was there, the largely-portioned pig and texturally deficient components made the dish too heavy and the experience lacking.  But on to bigger and better things.

Like the Wild Boar Sloppy Joe.  Hello.  Sure, this thing was heavy, and picking this up was nowhere near an option.  But this flavor bomb was worth every bite.  The ground boar was laced with a few leaves of fried sage and crispy onion, making the boar something I'd want to have as a ragu on a plate of pasta or a chili on a bowl of rice.  The soft brioche buns sopped up every bit of wild boar juice.  The pickled jalapeño brought more heat than acidity, which was bearable after a few, indulgent bites of the well-crisped and rich side of beef fat fries.  Things were getting dangerously heavy at this point, but we forged ahead.

The Roasted Marrow Bones were also very good.  Topped with some sea salt and red onion jam and accompanied by some sourdough crostinis, the marrow bones were simple, but delicious.

Few things latch onto my heart (I'm talking soul here, not fat) like bone marrow.  And this pair of bones was no different.  Rich, gelatinous, and flavorful.  The sweet onion jam was a perfect addition to each bite, but the sweetness and fattiness of the plate begged for some acid.  Regardless of this deficiency, we slurped up every last bit.  Unlike the earlier crostinis, these were soft and did a great job of scarpetta-ing up any greasy remnants.

The night almost ended with two relatively disappointing dishes.  The Hand Rolled Cavatelli was great for a few bites, but quickly became excessive.  The pasta was unfortunately overcooked, which made the pasta melt into a mush of rapini, chanterelles (a dish with chanterelles that I didn't absolutely love?!), artichoke hearts, truffle butter, grana padano, and matsutake purée.  Like I said, the flavor combination was great for the first couple bites, but after those bites, the dish became unbearably heavy.  Maybe it's because we had just eaten a huge sloppy joe.  Or maybe this dish just got lost in too many good things.

The other so-so dish was the "Steak and Egg."  The beef short rib was tender and good enough, but the tiring bordelaise sauce and undercooked farm egg and creamed spinach raviolo didn't ooze or contribute to the dish like I wanted them to.  The pickled ramps and mushrooms (the menu said black trumpets, but I think we got something more along the lines of hon shimejis) were tasty, but not enough to carry the dish.  I liked the concept and intention though.

The night ended with a bang, courtesy of their Maple & Bourbon Cornbread Pudding, flanked by a huckleberry compote, date-bourbon custard, charred olive oil ice cream, and smoked olive oil.  The cornbread pudding was just sweet enough for a dessert, but just light enough to not make the meal any heavier than it already was.  The custard was creamy and delicious with the bourbon toning down the typically intense sweetness of dates.  The charred olive oil ice cream was heaven.  Charred olive oil is a flavor I never would have expected to like, but the subdued olive oil flavors were accompanied by a notable nuttiness and flare that made this difficult to not like.  The smoked olive oil was subtle and delicious and the huckleberry compote gave each spoonful a welcome tartness.

Needless to say, the small plates were the way to go in both cost-effectiveness and flavor.  And despite the handful of misses we had that night, the hits were more than good enough to make me soar like an eagle and ensure that I will come here again.  The menu changes somewhat frequently, but thankfully, it looks like all the items I loved have reached a certain permanence on the menu.

Longman & Eagle
2657 N Kedzie Ave
Chicago, IL 60647
(773) 276-7110
http://www.longmanandeagle.com/

GET: Warm Cheese Grougere; Buffalo Sweetbreads; Swan Creek Rabbit Pâté; Wild Boar Sloppy Joe; Maple & Bourbon Cornbread Pudding.

Hoosier Mama Pie Company

With Mother's Day in full effect, I couldn't help but write up a quick post about Hoosier Mama Pie Company.  Not only because this place has "Mama" in the name, but also because these are some of the best darn pies I've ever eaten.  Although Steph C. and I only got to delve into one savory slice and one sweet slice, I have no doubt in my mind that the rest of their selection is just as exceptional.

The space is small.  Extremely small.  But there is still enough space to seat two parties of two, and one party of four.  We arrived by bus around mid-morning and the place was less than bustling.  But with the amount of activity going on behind the cashier, I can only assume that most of their business consists of take-out.  Or maybe it's because people probably go in, order a pie, eat the pie in thirty seconds, and go on their merry ways.

The minimal decorations are just darn adorbs.  And they have cute prices to match.  A bottomless cup of tasty coffee and a generous slice of pie costs a mere five dollars.  If I lived anywhere near this place, this would dominate my morning routine.

Both pies were simply outrageous.  The first slice we got, by recommendation of our friends Janice and Frances, was from their Chicken Pot Pie.  The crust was insane.  I could have just eaten the crust by itself and called it a day.  Buttery, crispy, and flaky, the crust made for the perfect accompaniment to the pie's innards.

Tender chunks of juicy chicken, beautiful bits of peas and carrots, and a thick, comforting gravy made each bite feel like a good ol' American hug.  The hints of sage and black pepper almost made my soul cry with happiness.  The best part was that nothing was overcooked or soggy.  It was as if this slice was specially made that day, that minute, that second.  For us.  I didn't want this slice to end, but it did.  Thankfully, we had a slice of dessert pie to slow down the regret of eating our first slice so quickly.

The Apple Pear Cranberry Pie was magical.  Neither the buttery crust or the addictive crumble on top were too sweet.  The pie let the natural flavors and sweetness of the fruits sing.  My teeth sank into each gooey gem of fruit with ease.  Like the Chicken Pot Pie, nothing was overcooked.  The apple and pear still had a slight bite and were texturally enhanced by the crumble.  I love a solid apple pie, but I'd take this combination of sweet and seasonal pears and apples and tart cranberries over any apple pie I've had, any day.  I want to say that we took a little bit longer to eat this slice in an effort to enjoy each bite, but I'm guessing we probably didn't.

If you haven't gotten your mom a Mother's Day present just yet, and if you live in Chicago, you have about half an hour to get over there today and make your mom's day.  If you don't have time to hit this up today, or if you don't foresee getting your mom a present in time for the occasion (no judgement! well, maybe a little bit), do yourself a favor and surprise mom on Tuesday (they're closed Mondays) with a belated, delicious pie.

Also, if you live in Chicago, you should probably be going to this place at least once a week.  I know I would.  If you don't live in Chicago, when you visit, do not miss this place.

Next time I go, I kid you not, I am going to get one of everything and spend my entire morning savoring each and every bite.  Or something close to that, at least.

Hoosier Mama Pie Company
1618 1/2 Chicago Ave
Chicago, IL 60622
(312) 243-4846
http://www.hoosiermamapie.com/

GET: Chicken Pot Pie; Apple Pear Cranberry Pie; Everything.