Reserve

(Grand Rapids, MI) We love wine and there are few establishments in town that specifically make wine their prime focus...and we blackballed the most well-known wine bar in downtown Grand Rapids years ago, after a particularly horrible experience with a server and a manager. So, when we heard about the new Reserve wine bar, we were suitably excited. We met our good friends and fellow foodies, JoJo and Ivy, for what we hoped would be a new favorite place...

He Fed:
The first thing I notice about Reserve is how bright and airy it is. White is the predominant color, with some unique Asian influence in the light fixtures, with a somehow rustic Michigan feel. The centerpiece is Ran Ortner's Open Water #24 Grand Rapids 2009 Art Prize winner, set against the back wall over the wine taps. To the right is the charcuterie station and upstairs is additional seating. Juliet and I arrive early, claim our OpenTable.com reservation, and are seated at the booth directly inside the entry. That turns out less than ideal; when our dinner companions join, their seats are in direct flow of the air vents above! I can totally empathize with the restaurant for trying to fill these seats, but they really must do something about the blasting air (or heat) directly on customers. Put a baffle or something on the vents.

Thankfully, because we had arrived so early on a Saturday evening, there is a booth upstairs that turns out to be much more comfortable. I walk around, taking in the lay of the land, and am delighted to discover more seating in a swankier kind of lounge area that seems quieter and more private than the boisterous downstairs section. Just behind our booth there is also a door leading to an outdoors deck area with an herb garden growing on the wall and some comfortable seating. When it gets warmer (we're still due for an Indian Summer, right?) I'm definitely heading straight from work to a seat outdoors.

I begin with a glass of the Nino Franco Rustico Prosecco while we peruse the charcuterie and cheese menu. We select 5 for $26. The Speck from Iowa is my favorite, the lightly smoked ham so delicate yet full of flavor. Surpisingly, I actually like the housemade chicken liver and foie gras pate with morel mushroom gelee, spreading it on a slice of whole grain bread from Nantucket Bakery. The Burrata from California is also a creamy delight, while the Roquefort (France) and Midnight Moon (California) are best sampled in modicum.

As we are often wont to do, the multi-course charcuterie leads to a multi-course small plates extravaganza. I am already focused on the Agnolotti filled with goat cheese in a pumpkin broth. I love pasta and I love pumpkin-flavored dishes (or drinks) as long as they are done with a light touch. Well, the agnolotti is too light a touch! Some of the pasta doesn't even seem to have cheese in it, so I'm left chewing a too-toothsome bit of pasta that tastes slightly undercooked. To be fair, when I do get some nice bits with cheese in them, and after the pasta steeps a bit in the broth, I can taste what the chef is aiming for.

We share plates, and I am a little bit blown away by JoJo's Spinach and Egg Risotto, topped with a sweet pepper remoulade that gives the creamy richness of the egg and Reggiano a nice kick. I also try a bit of Ivy's smoked wild Alaskan salmon that shows me another facet of fish I didn't know existed. It's not salty, nor fishy, and fills my mouth with smoky succulence not unlike that of the Speck. Sadly, I do not have the guts to try Juliet's oysters. (I do return to Reserve a week later to share the Manila Clams with a friend, and they are spectacular...a good first experience with clams.)

The parade of dishes (including salads and more bread) and wines (including a French Malbec) eventually overpowers me. I can only drift on, picking up random forkfuls of what's left on the plates.

It goes without saying that this is my new favorite "of the moment" restaurant, and the first place I will think of when yearning for a glass of good wine. Even now, I can imagine popping in for a quick bite at the charcuterie station and sipping a 4 year old Cotes du Rhone.

She Fed:
I've heard a lot of buzz about Reserve and am looking forward to a night of wine, cheese, charcuterie, and playing catch up with our friends, whom we haven't seen in ages. The hostess seats us at a table right at the entrance. As soon as JoJo and Ivy arrive, the air conditioning kicks on and it's blowing directly on us. When we ask for the air to be turned down, our server explains "Our system is smart and we can't turn it down". Doesn't seem very smart to us so we ask to be moved, which clearly disappoints our server. She seems unsure of how to handle our request. In fact throughout the evening, most of our servers seem uncomfortable in their roles. Either this is their first restaurant job, or they are still getting used to their new surroundings.

After a few minutes of discussion with two hostesses who seem flustered, we are escorted upstairs to one of only two booths in the entire restaurant. It's much quieter and the air is not blaring—perfect! We are given three menus, one for cheeses and charcuterie (priced at $7 per selection, 3 for $15 or 5 for $26), one for small plates. and one for wines and beers.

We start with three cheeses: a Michigan chevre, a California burrata and a Michigan vino tomme; an order of speck from Iowa (yes, Iowa); and the chicken liver and foie gras pate with morel mushroom gelee which is housemade by hand. Our choices are served with a variety of condiments—chutney, honey, multigrain bread, flatbreads, etc. As you might know, I'm kind of obsessed with foie gras and after one bite, I am in love with Reserve. This is one of the best foie terrines I've ever had. Who would have guessed little old Grand Rapids could compete with charcuterie made in Sonoma, Las Vegas, Manhattan, Rome or Paris? The speck is quite lovely too with its salty richness and I'm secretly thrilled that Iowa is turning out world-class speck. How cool is that?

The cheeses are all delicious and flavorful, but for me the burrata is the star. I've had it warm on flatbread at a friend's house, but here it's chilled and resembles a ball of fresh mozzarella. The burrata has a soft thin skin and inside is creamy, rich and much more flavorful than mozzarella. It's slightly "bloomy" but not as ripe and sweaty as say a tellagio.

We move on to small plates and order several to share: Oysters on the half shell; burrata with roasted peppers and a sherry vinaigrette; smoked fish trio; risotto with a poached egg; cauliflower soup; endive salad with pancetta, poached egg and truffle vinaigrette; chevre agnolotti; and two more cheeses, Hooligan (a washed rind cow's milk) and Midnight Moon (aged California goat's milk). The conviviality begins, with each of us trying a little bit of everything...except no one wants to try my oysters and JoJo, our resident vegetarian, steers clear of meat dishes. There isn't a bad dish on the table, although Jeremy's agnolotti are a bit too "doughy" for me.

The original architectural bones of the building have been kept intact and the decor is truly fabulous. High ceilings, light colors, clean lines and a theme of circles run throughout. I am told the restaurant was built around the 2009 ArtPrize winner, a large landscape of (presumably) Lake Michigan which hangs right above the bar.

The sheer number of wines by the glass, the variety of cheeses and the housemade charcuterie make Reserve a clear winner. The fact that Reserve is closed on Sundays is a major disappointment. I would be thrilled to have a place to go on Sunday afternoons for a solid glass of wine and some good cheese. (Come on Reserve, show how innovative you really can be by having some limited Sunday hours!)

© 2010 HeFedSheFed.com

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Asiate

(New York, NY) By some miracle, we were able to check in very early to our hotel, freshen up a bit, then strike out for lunch. Thanks to OpenTable.com, we had reservations at Asiate on the 35th floor of the Mandarin Hotel. Hungry, somewhat tired, we hailed a taxi and looked forward to a quiet meal before the inevitable first-day nap...

He Fed:
The entrance to the hotel is very strange, with only a bank of elevators on the first floor. Apparently, the lower floors of the building are either condos or businesses. You have to ride up to the 35th floor just to get to the lobby! When the doors open, we are presented with a spectacular open lobby area with sculpted chandelier and a lounge next to the wall of windows. Since we're a bit early, we decide to enjoy a glass of Prosecco in the lounge. The Manhattan skyline just outside seems surreal as we sip the bubbly.

Finally, the restaurant opens. We finish our drinks and check in with the hostess, who leads us into a dining area that is white and airy with the sun shining in. According to my request on OpenTable.com, we are shown to a small table right next to a corner window. Central Park is just below and we can see nearly half of Manhattan! It is an amazing view.

For lunch, Asiate offers a prix fixe 2 course menu for only $24.10 (not sure what the significance is of that number). We ask our quietly efficient, if not overly-friendly, server to suggest wine pairings with each course and his recommendations are spot-on. A fresh-tasting amuse bouche of tuna tartare arrives on a spoon from the kitchen, along with some cheese puffs that are nice but pretty plain, then we're off and running with the courses.

I start with a bowl of the soup du jour, a deep golden Fall Squash with truffled brioche croutons. We are informed it has been made with no dairy, just pureed, but it is so silky you don't miss the cream. It's nice, but not inspired. A glass of 2008 Barone Fini Pinot Grigio matches the sweetness of the squash, creating an autumn symphony that is celebratory yet mournful of summer's passing.

The plat du jour is too good to pass up: potato gnocchi with a medley of fall vegetables in a heavy tomato sauce. It arrives on a shallow plate, green, yellow and brown colors surrounded by the rich red-orange sauce. The earthy squash, eggplant, and brussel sprouts contrasts with the sweet, salty tomato and Parmesan, then all the elements bond when the crisp, doughy gnocchi is introduced. My inner vegetarian is thanking me, though the overall experience is just above average on my tongue.

Dessert seems too foolish, since we need to sleep a bit before the evening's festivities, so I end with another glass of Prosecco. We aren't getting away that easy, however; the kitchen sends out some chocolate biscotti, cookies, and presumably homemade orange jellies. The bill is a bit higher than expected (thanks to the wine). As I look out the window and finish my Prosecco, I decide the only reason to come back to Asiate is for the amazing view. Otherwise, similar fare can be found at ground level for a better deal.

She Fed:
The one thing I enjoy about frequent travel for work is occasionally I discover someplace fabulous and later share it with Jeremy. I had a business luncheon with a colleague at Asiate and knew this was a place I had to bring him the next time we came to Manhattan. I am so excited we're here together for lunch!

As soon as we walk into the Mandarin Oriental the air is slightly perfumed with something floral and spicy. It's refreshing and relaxing; I immediately forget the grimy cab ride over, the honking horns and hectic pace just outside the door. We take the elevator up to the 35th floor (ears popping) and head towards the bar.

We purposefully arrive early so we can enjoy a drink before lunch and soak in the view from the Lobby Lounge, just outside Asiate's doors. Unfortunately, all the seating near the windows is either occupied or reserved. Guess it's not such an original idea? Our mood will not be dampened and we slide into two cushy chairs, order our bubbly and enjoy some people watching. I am worried our request for a table near the windows at Asiate will not be fulfilled and I really want Jeremy to experience the restaurant as I did the first time.

I shouldn't have worried. We are seated right at the floor to ceiling windows overlooking Columbus Circle and Central Park. The trees are only just beginning to show traces of autumn's yellows, crimsons, and oranges. People are eating lunch on the benches below and some are even stretched out, soaking up the sun. Seeing this makes me inexplicably happy.

I begin with the shaved mushroom and artichoke salad mixed with slivered radicchio and microgreens sitting in a swirl of bright vinaigrette. The mushrooms and artichokes are meaty and lush; the radicchio is bitter and the vinaigrette adds some tang. This is fall in New York on a plate and one of the best salads I've ever had.

Next is the lamb loin with roasted brussel sprouts, chanterelle mushrooms, zucchini, and potatoes. The lamb is juicy and dark pink, cooked to medium rare. The sprouts are caramelized from roasting and the other veggies are crisp tender. I hate mushy veggies and these are perfectly done. There is a thin layer of chanterelle sauce under it all. Before I know it, my plate is empty.

Our waiter suggests a French Sancerre to go with my salad and a red blend from Long Island for the lamb. Both glasses are spot on and I am so delighted with the Long Island red that I order a glass for dessert...which goes perfectly well with the gratis biscotti, cookie, and fruit gelee he delivers with the check. I cannot recommend Asiate enough. This will be one of my regular stops in Manhattan. I'll meet you there for lunch anytime!

© 2010 HeFedSheFed.com

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Riingo

(New York, NY) Our final day in New York is jam-packed with activity, so we decide to sleep late, skip breakfast, and walk a couple blocks to a hotel restaurant called Riingo (found courtesy OpenTable.com). Reviews are mostly positive and although the online menus look somewhat standard, we hope for a special flair from the chef...

He Fed:
We find the somewhat hidden door to Riingo next to the main entrance to Hotel Alex (discovering later we could have come in directly from the hotel lobby). Turns out Riingo is a pretty standard, though nicely appointed, boutique hotel bar and restaurant. The front wall of windows is impressive, and the slightly Asian influences range from square brown leather seating, greengrass accents, to metal framing. Soft indie tunes play overhead. A hostess greets then informs us they are not quite ready to serve brunch yet, although we're on-time. Would we like to wait with a glass of water? Sure, why not.

After a fifteen minute wait, we are finally shown to a nice booth table in the very back dining room, which is quiet and private. Perfect for two foodies shooting video! I get some shots of the amazing high ceilings and painted chain link "chandelier" overhead. Presumably live flower shoots bloom in alcoves behind us. The whole effect is very serene.

Our first mistake is coming at 11am for brunch. We cannot take advantage of the prix fixe brunch which includes an adult beverage (Bloody Mary sounds good). We both order lattes, and our soft-spoken and inattentive waiter returns to inform us their espresso machine is broken. So what? I think. Run down the street to the nearest Starbucks and get me my latte! Instead, I get the coffee which is passable when enough cream is added.

We are presented an amuse bouche of mini zucchini muffins, which are too gummy for my taste. Adding butter helps a bit, but I think they should have been left in the oven a couple more minutes. Multi-grain bread comes out with our dishes, and that's a whole lot better (especially with butter). The toast has cool cross-hatch marks on them, so you know they were probably prepared on a grill top rather than a traditional toaster. My excitement dissipates, though, when I realize there is no jam. I know they have it; I just saw a lady at a table up front asking for more of the homemade strawberry jam!

I go with an old standby for my main course: eggs benedict. Only, here, it's Serrano Ham Benedict with a tarragon hollandaise on brioche. The bread is amazing...soft, yet crisp on the outside. It is the perfect bed for a great benedict. Unfortunately, the rest of it is pretty bland. A benedict lives and dies by the success of its hollandaise. Riingo's sauce could have come from Denny's for all I knew. The ham is okay, adding a little bit of saltiness. At the end, I'm left with a "meh" taste in my mouth, even after I add splashes of hot sauce.

Although it is nearly noon, we decide we'd rather head back to the hotel and pack early than trust our waiter to bring us a mimosa. He can hardly keep the water glasses filled! Sometimes earning 1000 points on OpenTable.com just isn't worth it.

She Fed:
We walk a few blocks from our hotel to Riingo, which is also housed in a hotel. I've never been a fan of hotel restaurants, but it's not like this is the pancake house at a HoJo. The decor is stylish, almost too hip for Sunday morning. It looks like a jazz bar with low chocolate brown leather seats with tiger striped backs, a long mahogany bar and dark brown strands of fringe lining the floor to ceiling windows.

We arrive about 10 minutes early and the hostess explains they're still setting up for brunch "in back" and we'll need to wait for a few minutes. She seems distracted and slightly confused, almost as though it's her first day or something unexpected has just happened. The entire mood of the place just seems a bit off. We grab a seat on one of the low benches and the hostess brings us ice waters.

About 10 minutes after 11 am, we are shown to our table in a small room at the back of the restaurant. The walls are lined with glass tubes each holding a delicate flower sprig and are painted with stripes of high gloss white alternating with stripes of eggshell white. The light fixture is surrounded by thin chains hanging down about six feet and painted with a beautiful mural of clouds and a brilliant sunset. The room is gorgeous and we choose the banquette at the far end of the room.

We immediately order lattes only to have the waiter reappear and apologize that the espresso machine is broken. No espresso on a Sunday morning? Ugh. I order tea and realize after a quick run through of the menu, that nothing sounds good. I saw a woman eating scrambled eggs in the bar area and they looked tasty, but there's no scrambled eggs on the menu. It never crosses my mind to request the breakfast menu or to even just ask for scrambled eggs. I settle on the "make your own omelet" with Vermont cheddar and mushrooms.

While we wait, our waiter brings us two mini zucchini muffins which are soggy on the top and dry in the middle. Our food arrives and my omelet, rolled French style, is very pretty, but even with wild mushrooms and cheese, it's pretty bland. The roasted potatoes on the side are another story. I love crispy caramelized roasted potatoes and I dunk each hunk in some Dijon and gobble them up.

The other highlight is the multigrain bread. It's been pressed and toasted, almost like a panini. So it's super crispy on the outside while still chewy on the inside.

Our waiter is stiff and awkward. Despite us being his only table, he never checks in to see how our food is and it takes him over 10 minutes to return with the check when Jeremy asks for it. Riingo might be a fun place for drinks or small plates, but I cannot recommend them for brunch. Good toast and roasted potatoes are easy to find and probably with a steaming latte too.

© 2010 HeFedSheFed.com

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Peter Luger Steak House

(Brooklyn, NY) Back in the day, when we were still developing our foodie skills and using television to explore, we heard about a mythical restaurant in Brooklyn called Peter Luger Steak House. These shows would tell the tale of an old-school eatery that knew the value of hand-selected prime cuts of beef and on-premises aging. We made it our mission to visit Luger's one day, and even though previous trips to NYC got us close, we'd never been able to swing it, until now...

He Fed:
Despite New Yorkers warning us off Peter Luger Steak House for the last year, promising much better fare to be found within Manhattan, I can't deny a certain frisson of excitement upon seeing the Peter Luger logo on the building as our cab draws closer. This is what we've been waiting for! A friendly doorman opens the entry and bids us welcome.

Inside, a packed bar filled with lively conversation stands to the left. We approach the host stand, where I give my name to a bespectacled gentleman who sizes me up shrewdly before checking his list. "It'll be just a couple minutes," he says and indicates we should wait against the wall. If either of us had been in the mood, we could have enjoyed a beer while waiting but we're saving that precious stomach space for the feast ahead. We peruse the awards hung on the wall, watch the vivacious people and scurrying waiters interact with each other, then are shortly led to a nice table near the front dining room window.

Our waiter is friendly and efficient, with a dry sense of humor. He knows it's our first time and takes very good care of us. After hearing so much about the restaurant, we already know what we want: Steak for Two. We also order a bottle of the house red (bottled in Napa), sparkling water, french fried potatoes, and onion rings.

As most of you know, I enjoy the occasional lean filet. I'm not big on other cuts of beef; fatty sirloins and porterhouses are just too rich. Having said that, when our Steak for Two arrives—already cut and perfectly prepared medium-rare—all my fears slip away. Our waiter serves us each two slices to start, from either side of the bone, and spoons the buttery drippings on top. I take a bite... Steak Nirvana.

The tender meat, softened by the butter and fat, dances along my tongue and teeth, then glides down my gullet way too easily. A sip of the dry Cabernet helps mediate the slippery sensations, and a couple fries bring my taste buds back to life. The onion rings are the only disappointment, looking more like mangy strips soaked in too much grease. The fries, though...oh, the fries! It is entirely impossible to stop eating them, even when I am stuffed.

Not too stuffed, unfortunately, when our waiter returns to congratulate our complete decimation of the steak and perversely suggest key lime pie for dessert. Key lime, of course, is my kryptonite. Somehow, I managed to "fill in the cracks" (as a friend of ours likes to say). The pie is prepared authentically, with just the right amount of puckery tang.

As I count out twenties (cash only), I can't imagine a better porterhouse anywhere. This isn't the best steak I've ever had, but it most definitely is the best porterhouse I ever expect to eat. If my heart can take it, maybe we'll be back for our 25th wedding anniversary.

She Fed:
Great grandmother's spatula! We're finally going to Peter Luger's. Jeremy has been pining to go and despite several trips to Manhattan over the last three years, we've never made the trek to Brooklyn before tonight.

We receive a lukewarm greeting as we enter and the host looks slightly bored as he checks his reservation list for our names. Jeremy and I will not be deterred, so we cool our heels in the bar/entrance/lobby, soaking up the surroundings. A framed Zagat certificate for every year since 1982 lines the walls. The bartender is pouring drinks at a fast and furious pace. Someone at the end of the bar is clearly a regular who's been out of commission for awhile, as several waiters make a point of coming up to greet him and welcome him back. All the servers (all male by the way) are attired in white shirts, black trousers, white aprons and black bow ties. I can't think of any other way to describe it, but there's a Sopranos vibe going on here. (The kitchen staffer who hulks out of the kitchen through the bar in a blood spattered apron helps further the vibe.)

Now rumor has it that Peter Luger waiters pride themselves on being aloof and purposefully rude. There are also stories of waiters harassing customers that request menus. This was not the case with our server who is prompt, friendly, and checks on our table throughout the evening. In fact, all the waitstaff are cordial and warm as I observe their interactions with nearby tables.

Our dinner arrives and it is exactly what I expected. A large porterhouse for two carved and served au jus table-side, a large platter of French fries, and a large platter of onion rings (two of their most highly rated sides according to Jeremy). The steak is cooked perfectly and tastes divine with big beefy flavors, very tender but with enough chew to let you know it's beef and a slight char on the outside. The French fries are probably the best fries I've ever had. Piping hot, super crisp on the outside and tender on the inside, they are supposedly basted in beef drippings at some point during the cooking process. The onion rings are a perfect cross between onion straws and big puffy onion rings. But the steak is the star of the show and I go back for seconds.

I adore the concept of a porterhouse shared between two people. You get the tender buttery filet portion and the chewy meatier strip steak side; it's the best of both worlds. I can't think of a better summer meal than a grilled porterhouse carved over a big green salad.

So after all the anticipation, research, and the $20 cab fare, is Peter Luger's the best steak I've ever had? No, I'm sorry to say it's not. The experience of Peter Luger's and those amazing fries are worth at least one visit and for us this was a "must do". But I've had steak just as good elsewhere, including at home on my own grill.

© 2010 HeFedSheFed.com

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Moto Restaurant

(Chicago, IL) For some unknown reason, we find ourselves in fortuitous circumstances quite often. On a beautiful, warm October day, we both had to be in Chicago for business and the opportunity arose where I could join Juliet for a "team dinner" at Moto Restaurant. Located in the meatpacking district, I wasn't too sure what to expect from the restaurant when the cab dropped me off in an alley clustered with trucks and the only means of egress took me a few minutes to find...

He Fed:
I open a narrow glass door among many, hoping I picked the right one. Signage is spare, and because our dinner is earlier than normal, there are no people waiting around or smoking outside. In fact, the desolate surrounding make me wonder if I've been dropped at the rear entrance. Just inside, however, a smiling man greets me and I know I've chosen correctly. I explain I am to meet the other diners downstairs in "the basement". He leads me through the upper dining area, and I get a fleeting sense of warmly-lit booths ensconced in browns and golds. Downstairs, I meet our fellow diners and drink in the cool environment: test tubes, lab equipment, and chemistry symbols adorning the walls. I'm in for a treat!

To start, I try the cucumber & GINger cocktail. It is refreshing, though the ginger aspects are barely there. After some prompting from others, I follow up with the siesta. This is more to my liking! The coconut milk shields my taste buds from the harsher aspects of the tequila. For some reason, it tastes like a tropical version of egg nog...which isn't a bad thing.

Adequately lubed, we are then presented with the menu for our 10 course meal. The menu itself it edible, a thin wafer of baked pastry upon which edible ink has been printed. The whole thing tastes like a grilled cheese sandwich! Some sections of raw tomato help freshen it up. We also ask the servers (who rotate out of the kitchen and sometimes create some of these dishes) to pair up some wine for each course. The servers are clearly having as much fun as we are, and that elevates our experience ten-fold.

We start with a Ceviche Margarita, taking form as a lime foam snowman with Himalayan salt eyes, nose, and mouth sitting atop a sleigh of raw tuna. When all elements are combined, it does indeed taste like a margarita! There is no fish taste at all and the textures play off each other nicely.

White Steel follows, a thick cut of mahi-mahi accompanied by bright red fish roe, all atop a hearts-of-palm puree infused with vanilla bean. The roe is salty and the texture is alien to me, but the fish is firm and flaky. Again, once all parts hit the fork with that puree, it becomes magic. I very nearly clear my plate.

Our final "fish" course is the Crab Cake, which is really a puff pastry filled with lobster bits. Along for the ride are marinated fennel bulb and butter sorbet, all of it making for a rich and creative dish.

Next up is NUAC man. No idea what it stands for, but it is a hunk of braised pork belly next to a mushroom broccoli rabe. In the middle of the rabe stands a tall, pale mushroom which has been dehyrdated then reconsistuted to create something like a mushroom "peep". It is light, crispy, and provides a nice constrast to the deep, earthen tones of the rest of the dish.

Our next course is called Quail & Cracker Jacks, and that's about as literal as this meal got. Juicy quail breast, coated in Cracker Jack coating, arrives on a plate with dipping sauces and a cherry-flavored prize pouch. It is quick and delicious finger food.

Our last main course is a Rabbit Maki, served up sushi-style with chopsticks. It is actually avocado and chunks of rabbit encircled by sticky risotto with a beet cone, garlic aoili, and a fresh pea puree made up to look like wasabi. It is a fun way to present the ingredients, and all of it works well together. I even like the rabbit!

Finally, our dessert course begins with a Mexican Cannoli. But wait! It's another bait-and-switch! It's actually spicy barbeque pulled duck leg in a pastry that tastes like a tamale, covered in achiote sauce and sour cream. It is easily my favorite dish...the supreme example of your eyes telling you this is sweet, your taste buds testifying it is savory, and your brain trying to assimilate all the disparate sensory data. In a word: fun!

Real dessert proceeds, including truffled ice cream and pineapple chai, but for all intents and purposes, the meal is done. I finish with a cup of hot espresso.

For those foodies actively seeking a unique and experimental experience, I can't recommend Moto more. I can't imagine dining here more than once a year, but I can't imagine NOT dining here more than once a lifetime. So, if you're planning to go in 2011, let me know so I can tag along.

She Fed:
Remember the Seinfeld episode where Elaine is describing a new move Puddy is using? "Oh, it's a lot of fancy-schmancy stuff. You know what it's like? It's like a big budget movie with a story that goes nowhere." This lines sums up what I expect to find at Moto, but I hope I'm wrong.

I'm hosting a group of 12 designers and colleagues for a multi-day function in Chicago and as luck would have it, Jeremy is in town for a few seminars. What are the odds we would be in the same town on a weeknight? It seems opportune to invite him to join us.

While the rest of the restaurant looks quite normal, our group dinner is held in the "laboratory" down in the basement. It's a bit dark and there are shelves with beakers and apothecary jars lining the walls, which definitely adds to the atmosphere.

I begin with a cocktail which has housemade cucumber gin, ginger and lillet blanc, a French aperitif made from a bland of wine, liqueurs, fruits and herbs. The cocktail arrives in a beaker with a frozen cucumber garnish and dense fog rolling off the rim. I am only planning on having one, but after a few sips I find the drink so refreshing and light that I quickly order another.

I joke with one of our servers (our group has three adorable young men taking care of us tonight) that we just want a grilled cheese with tomato soup. His face turns bright red and he awkwardly laughs it off. I meant to be funny, but I worry I've offended him, until he delivers our first course. Our menu is not only edible, but tastes like a grilled cheese sandwich with tomato soup! The menu is a thick cheese cracker accompanied by juicy cubes of heirloom tomatoes. As expected this sends our large and fun-loving group into a lather and we remain loud and boisterous all evening.

Our second course is entitled "Cevich Margarita" and looks like a snowman! It's actually lime foam shaped like a snowman (complete with Himalayan salt buttons and a nose) sitting atop a tuna tartar sleigh. The adventure continues with "White Steel" a roasted mahi mahi filet with bright red fish roe and a schmear of pureed hearts of palm infused with vanilla bean. Then the crab cake arrives with a lobster puff pastry on the side. This is my favorite of the last three dishes and I'd like to order more of them please!

Next up is "Nuac Man," pork belly with broccoli rabe and mushroom saute. The waiter explains that the large upright mushroom centered on the plate was created by dehydrating mushrooms, reconstituting them and then forming it to look like a mushroom. Everything tastes lovely, but I keep thinking about the resources wasted to make a faux mushroom out of real mushrooms. I enjoy the real mushrooms in the broccoli rabe saute much better than the "lab created" mushroom.

Now things get a little hinky with "Quail and Cracker Jack," quail breast dredged in Cracker Jack crumbs and fried, garnished with a peanut sauce, a caramel sauce and an edible (tastes like cherries) Cracker Jack packet covering a pile of flash frozen popcorn crumbs. It's really very good and fun to eat.

"Rabbit Maki" arrives with risotto wrapped around rabbit nuggets. To complete the sushi appearance, there is a reconstituted wasabi pea on the side. With real sushi the cold rice sticks together and can be eaten with chopsticks, but I can't get my chopsticks around this beast. (Must be the warm risotto and not the heavy wine pours, right?)

A delicious and decadent looking "Mexican Cannoli" slathered in chocolate comes next. But it's not dessert; it's a tortilla filled with duck in achiote sauce, drizzled with mole sauce and dusted with cheese powder. This is by far my favorite dish of the evening, rich and satisfying.

The dessert does arrive; in fact three dessert courses conclude our meal. A white truffled ice cream, a glazed pineapple hunk with chai cream sauce and a green tea sorbet. All of them tasty, but I'm still thinking about the Mexican Cannoli.

Moto is truly a dining experience that everyone should try at least once. It was innovative and fun for a large group of foodies. The service was absolutely impeccable as were the wines chosen for our group. But I discovered I'm a bigger fan of fresh food than contrived food. And I'm uncomfortable with the amount of resources poured into each dish. That's just me though. I drive a Prius after all!

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