My Mouth's Most Happiness (part 1)

Sometimes, I write blogs for me, you guys. You can read them and everything, but I just need to remember things and so I write them down on the internet. This is one of those times. I need to remember everything about my meal at Alinea and writing it all down will help me (although, I cannot imagine ever forgetting it, but we all get old sometimes).

Please feel free to read the next two blogs and live vicariously through me (that happens so rarely I am kind of excited for the chance of it).

However.

If you think that you might ever eat at Alinea (especially if that could be happening sooner rather than later), I think I would actually caution against reading this (at least until after you've gone and then we can compare stories).

One of the best parts of the meal (and there were quite a few best parts) was the surprise element of everything. There was no menu, no warning about what was going to happen next. I was even a little bit bummed that from my seat I could see other people's tables, so some of the surprises were ruined for me. Boyfriend's seat meant that he couldn't see anything before it arrived on our table and his glee from some of the dishes made me a little envious.

So, just...think before you read. If you don't think that you're going to get to Alinea in the next six months or so, than please - feel free to read away. This experience totally made my life.

I will start with the fact that this is the most I have ever spent on anything that wasn't a vacation and wasn't an actual, tangible thing. In fact, the more I think about it, the more I think of it as a little 3-hour vacation. Probably the most expensive one I will ever take on a dollar-per-minute basis, but still worth it. I celebrate the fact that I currently live a life, where, with a bit of savings, an adventure like this is financially feasible for me. Can I do it every month? Nope. But once a year to celebrate something as awesome as Boyfriend's golden birthday? Sure.

So we get to Alinea. And it has a crazy, magic door that automatically opens as you get near it (its basically a grocery store door that is solid metal, which makes it infinitely cooler and more future-y looking).

Once you're there, its basically like a very well decorated town house with an enormous kitchen full of people, but then you go upstairs and its just a pretty, minimalist house, for antisocial people who don't want to talk to or eat with others.

And then they ask if you want wine. And you can say no. Because I cannot imagine the food would be that enhanced with wine. Boyfriend and I both just got single glasses which we managed to sip on throughout the total meal and it was totally satisfying as a between-course amuse-bouche (and way, way, way less cheaper. I am made of money, but not, like, that much money).

(this is going to be the longest two blogs ever. With no pictures. Sorry guys, I am trashy, but not trashy enough to take food pictures).

So then the first course comes and it looks just like regular food.

Its Char roe with carrot, coconut and curry. I was surprised by how normal it was. It was just food on a plate. It was delicious, with salty and sweet and lots of flavors but for a moment, my heart sank. I was expecting madness and here was just some food. But you don't put on your A game during warm-ups. Duh.

Then. Drift wood logs covered in seaweed were placed on the table in front of us and I was like, "Hell. Yes. We are not in Kansas anymore."

On this log with seaweed there were 4 shells. And no silverware. Eat with your shells everyone.

The Oyster Shell - which had an oyster leaf in it. This was a leaf that had the awesome saltiness of an oyster without the slimy-eyeball-sliding-down-your-throat sensation of an oyster. aka - amazing.

King Crab - with passion fruit, heart of palm and allspice. I am not going to say the meal peaked at this moment, but oh my crab meat. I put my finger in that shell and got out all the crab meat. Classy? Not me. There is crab on the table. I will have visions of this particular dish dancing in my head for the rest of time.

Mussel - I will now always be disappointed in mussels for the rest of my life. They are ruined. Unless everyone else starts serving them with saffron, chorizo and oregano.

Razor Clam - The sauce of this one (made with shiso, soy and daikon) made me lick the razor clam shell. I could have cut my tongue off. It would have been worth it.

After they removed our logs they put down a fancy device that used a Bunsen burner to make soup in a very science-y way where the water boiled and defied gravity then soaked up flavors of lots of yummy veggies and then came back down. This was a little side show happening while we got our next course.

A long, thin metal shish kabob stick stuck vertically into a metal paper weight was put down in front of us. This was the "no-hands" portion of the meal. At the end of that stick was some squid and woolly pig with a little orange and fennel all put together in something you could eat in one bite, but still had some serious squid tentacles happening. It was salty and strange but so delicious and now I kind of want all my food to be served in a way that I don't need to use my hands. Why? Because.

Our 7th grade science class soup was done, and so it was poured over a piece of scallop that looked (and inexplicably tasted like) tofu. But also tasted like scallop? Let's take the two funnest food-words to say and make a dish that puts them in the exact same bite. And lets pour some crazy delicious broth over it. Ohhh. Kay. And just for funsies, lets make teeny-tiny veggies garnishes in the bowl too. Like a carrot shaving curlicue the size of pencil shaving. Yep. Science Soup. Mind fuck scallop. Doll house veggies.

This whole time there has been a block of ice the size of a six-pack on the table with some red liquid suspended in it. At this point in the meal, they hand us some glass straws and tell us to go head and drink the red liquid. It is not some sort of animal blood, as I was slightly fearful of, but some beet juice with hibiscus and black licorice. If I liked beets, it would have been delicious. But I don't like beets enough to make up for the fact that I was terrified that I was going to have to consume blood.

The ice cube is taken away and then the closest thing to an entree is put down in front of us.

A Scup (which is a Sicilian fish), some chick pea fritters (which probably aren't Sicilian but are delicious), and caponata (which is the best goddamned thing that has ever happened to me, also Sicilian). The fish and the fritters were great but the caponata was so perfect. Like the sugo at The Girl and the Goat, it spoke to a part of me that I don't even know existed. The deep, soulful Italian part. When it was over, I was looking longingly at my plate and Boyfriend said, "Wow. You loved that stuff. You have never looked at me like that." I am so excited to try to make it. It probably won't be as good as it was last night, but even if it is 1/10th as good, I will be so happy. Forever.

And with that, I leave you to guess at what you think the next 10 courses might have in store.

My Mouth's Most Happiness (part 2)

So, where did we leave off?

Oh yes - caponata. Or as I like to call it, the eggplant game changer (go read about courses 1 - 9. It's cool, I'll wait).

After the thing most resembling an entree came and went (with all of it polished off and the consideration of stowing the fish head in my purse for Miss Hazel) we came to the physical challenge part of the meal.

We were given a wax cup full of liquid with a little metal spear holding some unidentified squares dangling above it. At the word "go" we had to pull the spear very carefully out, depositing the squares into the liquid. We had to be very careful to this in a timely, yet gentle fashion while under the very judgmental eye of one of our waiters. Naturally, all this pressure got to me, and I nearly failed, but I managed to get my squares into my liquid and shoot it back with a quickness.

It was hot and cold at the exact same time while also managing to be simple and delicious. So many adjectives. It is called "Hot Potato, Cold Potato" which is pretty much exactly what it was. According to my limited internet research this has been on the menu for a really long time, which makes sense. It really encompasses everything Alinea is about. Its totally off the wall, requires tableware you cannot find at Sur La Table, and is very delicious.

The next course comes with a pillow full of juniper air, which I am seriously considering purchasing for my own at-home use. I forget how amazing juniper smells until they are putting a pillow of it in front of me, with a plate of mushrooms on top.

If you know me, you know I do not eat mushrooms. The texture of mushrooms makes my skin crawl. Just thinking about the way they feel in my mouth gives me a fit of the shivers. But I had a funny feeling this was going to happen, and I told myself long before we even got to the restaurant that I was going to eat everything put in front of me.

So I ate the mushrooms and once I got over the mushroom-y-ness, all of the other flavors were amazing enough to keep the texture-based goosebumps at a minimum.

Pillow of juniper deflated, we got to make our own venison goulash roll-ups in cabbage leaves. I was not anticipating spending all of the dollars and then having to eat with my hands, but I went with it. I know there is a part of me that is country girl (its smaller than the part that is Italian but it exists), and this country girl loves her game meat.  Mmm, venison. I probably will never be able to have actual goulash without being severely disappointed.

Difference between Alinea and McDonalds? At Alinea you get a warm towels after you eat with your hands.

Towels removed it was time for an explosion (Fun Fact, the word explosion will always makes me think of the Madhouse Comedy Explosion and Summer 2004, good, drunken times).  The black truffle explosion was a single ravioli served on a spoon and with a warning to eat it all in one bite.

Boyfriend summed it up best with, "Wow, I think I need a cigarette." They do mess around with hyperbole at Alinea, just black truffle oil.

For most of the meal, things seemed to be how they were just because... but the next course was apparently based on Miro's Still Life with Old Shoe.

Image (via)

What does a course based on this look like?

Different sized utensils, all with bites of food on them. While most of the other courses came with strict instructions, this one was the "there are no rules" course. All bites were eaten in whichever order we preferred. Of course, I have no idea what was on most of them except deliciousness. I wish I could be more specific. There was for sure a spoonful of jam, and a spoon with a bit of vinegar and oil on it, a bite of foie gras, some crunchy business and a fork of squab.

Having had utensils to eat with for 2 courses in a row, it was time to go back to eating with our hands and/or a smouldering cinnamon stick.

Most of the things that I ate during this meal I would never dream of recreating, but at the end of the smouldering cinnamon stick was a ball of brie cheese, caramelized onions and anjou pear with a crispy outside. While I will probably leave the fire hazard out of it, the rest of this dish sounds totally doable (and we all know how I feel about brie).

After I explained to Boyfriend that that cinnamon stick was his birthday candle, they brought out another torture-looking device. This one with five long, thin metal fingers sticking out of a solid base. On the end of each finger was a bite no larger than the size of this O (okay, maybe a little bit, but not much bigger. Maybe this O). Each bite was a different type of Hawaiian ginger, garnished with completely different flavors.

This is the moment where Rachel learns the lesson that it is not the size of the food but the size of the flavor that makes all the different. Each bite packed a wallop that had me reaching for my sparkling water. One of the pieces of ginger had a single cell of grapefruit on it. A single cell! These were some of the most flavorful things we ate all night. Ginger means business, everyone.


After letting ginger blow our minds a little bit, we got geared up for dessert which I am saving for another blog because it deserves at least this much description if not more.

My Mouth's Most Happiness (part 3) (...Finally)

Sooooo, like, 7 months ago, I had a crazy delicious meal and started writing about it (check out the first couple courses, and then the middle couple of courses. Annnnd finally, I got my act together to finish it tonight. Enjoy the third installment of our Alinea adventures.

After all the real food - it was dessert time.

They brought out Winter. Like the seaweed log before it, this was basically some designer's wet dream, with 4 bites of food on it. In this case - another log, with pine needles, and rocks that had been cooled to -80 degrees and adorned with peppermint flavored snow. Resting on top of the snow were bites of different fruits (including persimmon) and a nutmeg marshmallow.

Then there was the deconstructed hot chocolate, that was water but of course, it was actually hot chocolate. Okay, Harry Potter, you win.

The snow was realistically cold and fantastically delicious. I scraped it off the rocks with a fork until Boyfriend said that, really, that was quiet enough.

The penultimate course was one of the ones that I wish had been a surprise for me (but was happy was a surprise for Boyfriend). It was a balloon, full of helium, made of something akin to Apple Fruit by the Foot (but, you know, a billion times more delicious and flavorful). Dangling off the end was a silver implement that we were instructed to use however we wanted - with the end result being eating the apple balloon.

I went the direct route and stabbed the balloon right through with the silver tool. This left me very, very sticky, but satisfied.

Boyfriend managed to find a way to eat it slowly enough that he could suck out minimal amounts of helium (but enough to make his voice high pitched) and keep the balloon afloat as he ate it. He's an engineer, people.

The final course was easily the most amazing thing that happened throughout the entire meal, and will continue, probably until the end of my life, to be the best show I've ever seen. I don't know how they managed to keep this course a surprise - but they did and holy.crapballs. was it worth it.

One of the chefs came out and asked about our meal. I was in such a place of pure bliss already, I could barely talk to him. He put a dark chocolate fishbowl on the table and filled it with liquid nitrogen (poured out of a dainty white china pitcher). And then as he chatted with us, he started using various sauces (butternut squash, lingonberry and stout) to draw designs on our table.

I know that I should not be impressed, as plating and presentation is a fairly basic component of culinary arts, but the designs were so beautiful and smelled so amazing. It was art more than food. Boyfriend's birthday present was not so much the meal, but me restraining myself from taking a picture of the final design.

The beauty was either heightened, or short lived, depending on your opinion - when the chef picked up the chocolate fishbowl and unceremoniously dropped it back on the table where it broke open, full of treats like the fanciest pinata this side of Mexico.

The liquid nitrogen had frozen bits of cotton candy, toffee, sweet potato and magic in the fish-bowl-pinata-of-delicious. We were handed spoons and left to enjoy as much of this amazing last course as we could.

If you know me, you know I don't leave food on my plate (or...table? as the case maybe). I think about the starving kids in Africa, the fact that I am paying for this, my Italian grandmother who was always telling me to eat more, my friends who use leaving food as a weird dieting mind game that I will have no part of, and the fact that I may never have this chance again, and I eat until its gone.

So I ate as much as I could fit inside me. There have only been one or two times where I have truly eaten to the point of near stomach explosion (our feast in the Italian countryside comes to mind). And even when it got to the point where I could literally feel my stomach stretching uncomfortably inside my beautiful Jason Wu dress, I kept eating the delicious chocolate scooped up with amazing sauce and real (real!) magnolia petals.

I don't think I would have stopped without Boyfriend telling me I was under no circumstances allowed to throw up in the cab ride home. I would have sat in that restaurant for hours letting the waves of hedonism wash over me if given the chance.

But eventually, sadly, it had to end. They brought the check and cleaned up the end of the beautiful chocolate mess. While we waited for a cab, we got to sneak a peak inside the kitchen which was surprisingly normal looking (I am not sure why I assumed that they would be like, cooking with flame throwers and wearing those crazy super magnifying glasses - I have a very active imagination).

We got in our cab, and went home - and like any vacation, there was that crushing realization that we were very much back in the real world, where you eat on plates with regular forks and all of the food is just normal and boring.

Boyfriend bought me my own Molecular Gastronomy At-Home Kit which I am waiting for a really special occasion to play with. The next time I eat crazy stuff, it'll probably be of my own making.

Do I recommend Alinea? Absolutely. If you el-oh-vee-ee LOVE food and are not going to be scared off by a price tag akin to a new computer, then absolutely. Do it. Or find some other amazing restaurant and eat there (and then tell me about it). The thing about living is that you should really enjoy it as much as possible.

Always sweet

When you want dessert. Eat dessert.

I spend most of my time locked in eternal mental battles. No decision is ever really made with full confidence. My favorite decision is when someone else makes the decision for me.  

All travel, career choices, meals, written words, everything is considered for as long as I possibly can before finally just blurting out something and then spending the rest of my life silently panicking that I made the wrong choice.

Except dessert. When I want dessert, I do not think about it - I find and enjoy dessert (like a Good Humor Birthday Cake Ice Cream Pop) and I never once have regretted it. 

If I'm full to the brim of other delicious things, I know enough not to pick out a dessert, but when there is room, I'll fill it up. The exception to this rule is when I give up all carbs because I am a competitive asshole with a weird religious bent.

When we went to Alinea (so long ago!) and the most.amazing.dessert.of.all.time was performed in front of us, I ate until my stomach nearly exploded. I wanted to just be given, like, 20 minutes to nap and come back for the rest. I wanted it just shove it all in my clutch and take it home to eat in bed. I miss that dessert more than some people I've known.

Food has always been a source of struggle for me. A battle of being happy versus being happier. The one battle I refuse to fight is the one against chocolate, against pie crust, against buttercream frosting. 

My birthday will have cake, it will have Berger cookies, it will have more cake, and it might have some delicious and spirited Notre Dame chocolates, and I will eat them all. 

whaaa happen?

So, I disappeared from the internet for a while. Whoops. Sorry about that.

A friend made a comment in passing that wasn't meant to be mean, but made me feel self-conscious about this blog. Which is dumb, because this is the internet, its my job as a human to fill it with garbage. But the sensation of doubt was hard to shake and has left me tentative to fill the non-existent (and yet still there) void of internet I have.

Anyway - I promise, I will finish writing about Alinea. For those who are interested.

And I will blog about taking on Easter which will be epic.

And eventually, I will blog about something that isn't food.

Until I do - go download the new Of Monsters and Men album. Its real, real good. I do not consider myself a "music" person. So I am excited to be the first of my friends to have listened to them. They were amazing in concert and I cannot wait to see them again.

Day 4 - 6: More Santa Severa and Universal Health care

The next three days were very low-key for me. Which was nice in preparation for the tourist-gasm that was about to go down a few days later. I spent the time sleeping, discovering that the castle was closed for repairs (lame), and working on my sweet tan.

The best part of the last three days was the meal we had up in the countryside of Santa Severa. It was about a 20 minute drive into the mountains from our beach house. We got to spend time with Lei Lei and Christine, his wife, who is the ONLY person (out of all 4 adults) who remembers me from when I came when I was four. She said I looked exactly the same, which I have no doubt, is totally true.

The restaurant we went to was basically in this huge enclosed porch off of an old house. It was the traditional Italian country dinner you've heard about. We started with three types of bruschetta and appetizers, then two or three different types of pasta, followed by Pork, Beef and Mutton. All probably killed within the week and served with greens and potatoes. Bear really liked the pork, and the mutton was over done and dry (although I think I was expecting lamb, so over done is probably normal) but the beef was perfect. It was just rare enough. It was amazing, and we just ate and ate and ate until I had literally made myself sick, but I so wanted to keep eating because I hardly ever get meals like this. It was perfect.

While we were living a life of hedonism, Buttmunch was also kind of dying.

Its a long story, but the moral of it was Buttmunch was on antibiotics when we got to Italy. The first day I notice a red rash developing on his arms, and back and legs and really everywhere. The rash got worse and worse and basically left the kid a pile of hot mess by the time we were in Rome.

He was a champion about it - dutifully walking around with us as the sun blazed overhead. But it got to a point where he was resembling a tomato more than a human and was too tired to be sarcastic.

So he and Dad hoofed it to the pharmacist where he was told that he was for sure having an allergic reaction to something (probably the antibiotics) and he needed an antihistamine and he should go have a chat with a Doctor.

The next day, Buttmunch, Dad and Lei Lei drove out to one of the two or three doctors within a 20 mile radius and just walked in, saw a doctor - found out what the dealio was (a reaction to the sun while on the antibiotic) and got the medicine he needed. Total cost - NOTHING. Not a dime. (Well, the drugs might have cost something, but the doctor's visit was on the house).

Can you imagine if someone from Italy walked into a clinic (any clinic) in the US (especially in a resort/beach/country area) and had a crazy rash? No matter what kind of explanatory paperwork they had - there would be a battery of tests, an epic wait and then a bill akin to dinner at Alinea.

So THEN, Buttmunch takes the antihistamines and feels moderately better, until he takes the antibiotics again and busts into a Oscar-worthy asthma attack. We no longer have access to a car (and so the clinic from the day before) so they hoof it back over to their new bff - the pharmacist - who tells Buttmunch to throw those antibiotics away - and gives him an alternative drug and an inhaler to deal with the whole not-breathing thing. Sure these cost some Euros - but here's what they didn't cost - a prescription, a doctor's visit, or a waste of everyones' time.

I was consistently amazed by how much treatment he got for so little. What a civilized society.

*** edited to add the part about our delicious meal, that I had forgotten all about in the discussion of health care***

TYOE: San Francisco, part 1.

So, on the last day of this trip - I got offered my current job, which promptly threw my life into a tailspin. And then there was the fact that we did so.much during this trip that I was overwhelmed about trying to blog about it. But I figured it all out. A post for San Fran food and then an extra bonus post for all the things we did including off-site field trips.

Cool? Cool.

Guys. First things first.

HOW COME NO ONE TOLD ME SAN FRANCISCO HAS SO MANY HILLS?!

Seriously. I feel like everyone just assumed that I would know this. Why would I know this? Ya jerks. Needless to say, I was bummed, and so were my calves. I'm sure when you live there you get used to it, but nothing like walking around all day, only to be faced with gd. Mount Everest to get home.

I'm a lazy girl, but I tried to be real cool about it. Except I complained all the time. But just to Boyfriend, who is contractually obligated to love me anyway.

This trip, because it had so many parts and pieces that we had to do, it required an excel spreadsheet. No joke. We are such nerds.

Where We Ate (at least most of the places):
Chowder Hut Grill. This was literally the first thing we did after we dropped off our luggage. There are a million spots to grab a bread bowl right on the wharf, but we went to the one that seemed to be the most reasonably priced with a decent amount of seating. It did not disappoint. I wanted to eat about 400 billion bread bowls full of crab chowder. My heart. Oh. Its been 10 weeks, I still want it all the time, just propped up on my big old belly (that is full of previously slurped chowder).

Pat's Cafe. The first time we tried to go to Mama's the line was dumb. It was raining, it was 10:00 a.m. and it was the stupidest line I have ever seen. So we went to Pat's. It was good. Really, it is much harder to ruin eggs and avocado than it is to make yummy and delicious. Way to not screw up, Pats.

Jaspers. This place was recommended by a friend and it was pretty delicious. It was so hipster-y (I guess the best restaurants are these days) but the marmalade on my cheese burger made up for all the plaid button-downs.

Great Eastern. Boyfriend was apparently terrified of Dim Sum (as I am sure many folks from Indiana are) and so we got just regular chinese food. He experienced his first moo shoo pork and I regaled him with the story of how Buttmunch and I used to just eat the pancakes with white rice and plum sauce. This is to say, this food was totally fine chinese food. Probably better than I am used to, but  not so authentic that I was nervous.

Mama's. This place had a line around the corner at 8:00 a.m. on a Monday in the middle of May. I was expecting to have the most amazeballs, game changing brunch of my life. And I was? Satiated, but not blown away. I mean, yeah - that was a decent crab benedict and Boyfriend's cranberry-orange french toast was good, but...citizens of San Francisco there is so much else out there in the world of Brunch. Come to Chicago, we shall rock your world.

Lou's Fish Shack. We had a Groupon, which was good because this was so overpriced and touristy. But it was also kind of perfect for our epic post-bike ride meal. We were exhausted and did not want to have to think or plan anything. So to have a reservation somewhere just blocks from our hotel that served totally adequate sea food that filled us up. We were happy, touristy campers.

Zushi Puzzle. In an attempt to be true San Franciscans rather than tourists for a night, we tracked down a regular old sushi joint in the middle of nowhere. It tasted pretty much exactly like any decent sushi place in Chicago, which was a relief.

Ghiradelli's. Boyfriend remembers coming here with his family and I am a total sucker for nostalgia and ice cream. The wait is dumb, the portions are huge, but you have to do it. So do it.

If nothing else, all this traveling we have done has made us incredibly grateful that we live in Chicago which, to us, feels like one of the best foodie cities in the universe. And not only is the food in Chicago amazing, it is accessible. Sure we're home to Alinea, but we're also home to Kuma's Corner, and the Bongo Room. Amazing food in Chicago is not super expensive and not too hard to find, and maybe it's because we're living in tourist land when we travel, but we have struggled to find any city that matches it.

That being said - none of the food in San Fran disappointed. You cannot go wrong with fresh fish or sourdough bread and they worked that angle so hard. Well done, hipsters. Well done.

Eventually, I'll get around to talking about all the super fun things we did.