Consider the source: If Charlie Trotter, this country's cardinal culinary zealot, describes you as zealous, at the very least you figure it takes one to know one. It was taken as a great compliment by Michael Taus, Trotter's former apprentice. "Charlie is more serious about food than anyone I've ever met," says Taus. And it came in handy when Taus was looking for a name for his first restaurant. Taus happened to be rereading a letter of reference that Trotter had written for him, which said, "Michael is devoted to the art of cuisine with an almost religious zealousness." So, Eureka! In 1993 Taus named his first restaurant in Elmhurst, Ill., Zealous. And when he moved it to Chicago in March of the new millennium, he saw no reason to change the name.
The name's the same, but almost everything else has changed, except Taus' cooking, and he has raised the bar on that. The new Zealous occupies a 7,000-square-feet former warehouse with 18-feet high ceilings, redesigned as a restaurant by New York architect William S. Leeds (who also designed Spruce and Bin 36). When you enter through huge glass doors, you step onto a slate bridge that crosses over a stream of black mosaic glass and leads into the restaurant. Or, if you are early, as my dinner companion and I were, you take the wooden footbridge into the bar, and sink into sectional chairs (comfortable, thank you!), upholstered in shades of olive. Little round pots of fresh green grass decorate the square cocktail tables. The long stainless steel bar is lit by hanging chandeliers that look a bit like upside-down candles suspended in cones. And the back bar (where the bottles are stored) has narrow sliding glass panels that shift to one side or another and give you a different view of the liquid inventory every time a customer orders, and the bartender mixes, another drink. It's all visually interesting but all very subtle. And that describes the spirit and semblance of the restaurant as a whole. Original brick walls, mellowed and textured by age, are visible in the bar and in the restaurant, providing a counterpoint to the stainless steel and glass used throughout. Curving, undulating metal half walls skirt the main dining room space, and the chef's table is set in the very middle bordered by a little rectangular grove of bamboo trees that must thrive by day in the sun streaming down from a huge central skylight.
And where is the chef in this age of open kitchens? (Open kitchens became trendy in the 1980s, and I remember the first open kitchen I saw at a restaurant called Jams in New York. The theory was, and still is, that open kitchens provide fun -- live theater for diners. But my belief was, and still is, that it imposes a hardship on chefs and their kitchen staffs, who are obliged to smile valiantly and look composed during the demanding, hot, hectic, backbreaking work of cooking food to order -- the better the restaurant the harder the work and the higher the stakes. Are they having fun?) Chef Taus is in his kitchen, that he designed, behind a sandblasted glass and aluminum wall. You can see only shadows and detect movement. But if you express an active interest in your food, as we did, you may be invited back to that kitchen to meet the chef, as we were. He was as gracious to us as if (he didn't have a clue) we had been restaurant reviewers.
To the left of the main dining room as you enter stands a singular two-story wine cellar enclosed in glass. It is temperature controlled and holds a 6,000-bottle wine collection, chosen by general manager and wine director Amy Cairns (also Taus's fiancee). Cairns constructed the wine list which offers 450 selections. She also pairs wines for each course in the tasting menus, not limiting the wines to the 30-by-the-glass selection that the restaurant offers but opening bottles from the wine list for the best possible wine-food matches.
The main dining room has freestanding tables and also upholstered banquets, which is where the two of us sat, side by side. Since we were two we had the option -- as do tables of four -- of ordering from the a la carte menu of appetizers, main courses and desserts. This is not an option for tables of six or larger, who must order, as we chose to do, from one of the degustation menus (created by Taus and Chef de Cuisine Bryan Opiela) that change to some degree every night and dramatically with the seasons. There are two five course menus, one vegetarian ($75), and one non-vegetarian ($85) with two tiers of wine pairings: $105 and $135 for the former, $115 and $145 for the latter. Our waiter explained that all wines were poured in the same quantity but the more expensive wine pairings offered more expensive and often uncommon wines. Same goes for the seven-course grand menu ($105) and its wine pairings ($145 and $185).
The service was my idea of terrific. The staff was dressed in really cool DKNY suits and ties -- again that subtle touch -- and were friendly but not folksy, totally informed but not condescending, professional but relaxed and actually seemed to be enjoying their jobs.
But the best of everything was the food. Taus graduated from the Culinary Institute of America, interned with Pierre Pollin at Le Titi de Paris in Arlington Heights, and during his apprenticeship with Charlie Trotter found time to cook (just to learn) in Chinese, Vietnamese, Korean and East Indian restaurants. After Charlie Trotter he spent a year at Joachim Splichal's Patina in Los Angeles, where, again, he cooked to learn at a Thai-Philippino restaurant owned by friends. His food at Zealous is a distillation of his cooking experience, food from his multi ethnic background (Austrian, northern Italian, Sicilian and Czechoslovakian), and the signature style he forged from 1993 until this year at the first Zealous in Elmhurst.
Our first glass of wine was a Joseph Perrier brut Champagne poured to accompany a palate tickler: a tiny delectable spring roll garnished with fresh delicate chives and dots of fragrant, fiery Thai chile sauce. Bread was Taus' signature dill-onion roll. Wine number two, a grassy Grove Hill Sauvignon Blanc, was perfect with a tempura-battered, fried soft-shelled crab in a fresh buckwheat blini with glass noodles, garnished with sweet round carrots and purple basil, and a mango-basil sauce. The flavors of the crab, carrot, basil were brilliant, and the textures of the crisp batter, tender blini and silky noodles were simply lovely. This was definitely a dish that an accomplished gourmet home cook (me) couldn't conceive, much less accomplish.
Wine and course number three were my favorite for the evening and maybe for the year: A wine from Burgundy that is a pinot noir-beaujolais blend and Taus' rendition of pot-au-feu. A combination of diver scallop, veal cheek and foie gras -- perfectly cooked, each taste distinct -- accented with morel mushroom and fiddlehead fern in a light yet highly flavored hamachi broth seasoned with red miso.
Course and wine number four: A Mt. Eden 100% cabernet from Santa Cruz was made for perfectly cooked rare filet atop truffled gnocchi with a rich, intense mushroom au jus and green, crisp-tender pea shoots just slightly bitter as you bite them. The only shortcoming of this four-star dish was the texture of the gnocchi, a little pasty and underpar. But the gnocchi's flavor was so outstanding I'd have gladly eaten a bowlful with a soup spoon.
The trio of sorbets which preceded dessert were on the sweet side, but exquisite: exotic melon ( I believe it was kiwano), kumquat and vanilla yogurt sorbets with a raspberry soup.
|
|
|
|
Warm Peach, Black Walnut Biscuit & Grand Marnier Sabayon Gratin with Citrus-Peach Ice Cream |
The dessert course brought a small glass of Terra Rouge, my introduction to this lovely California dessert wine made with muscat grapes. Pastry Chef Michele Schmoll created a dessert duo that lived up to the meal, admittedly a hard act to follow. There was a perfect pannacotta with a citrus zing. The perfect part was the texture of this eggless Italian custard -- tender enough to shimmy if you shook it (who says dessert can't be sexy?) but firm enough to stand on its own. The citrus flavor was fragrant and well-defined and echoed in the fresh citrus salad with basil that accompanied it. And what would any dessert be without chocolate? Sharing the plate was an organic hazelnut brownie, dense and divine, with a tiny schoop of toffee ice cream.
The coffee that we ordered was fresh, hot and strong but not bitter. If we had been tea drinkers, we would certainly have lingered over the menu of five rare teas listed with descriptions: herbal decaffeinated Egyptian chamomile, low-caffeine white peony, Chinese green tea, oolong, and a full-bodied black tea to drink plain or with a little milk.
From the a la carte menu, signature standout appetizers include pan-roasted veal sweetbreads on a black pepper beignet topped with pickled lamb's tongue, and a sauce of veal reduction flavored with okra jus. And instead of the familiar prosciutto-wrapped melon appetizer, Taus wraps hand-harvested sea scallops and accompanies this pairing with a refreshing pepino melon coulis. The chef has taken a page from his Czechoslovakian background and rewritten it as an entree on his menu: Free-range Virginia lamb loin paprikas with roasted spaghetti squash pirogis and pickled red cabbage. Paprikas, pirogis and cabbage have never tasted like this.
Taus' talent and zeal combine to create a fine-dining experience that is first and foremost a matter of excellent flavors, exciting textures and surprising combinations. His food is experimental, but it is also approachable and understandable. This chef has a rare talent, and at 31 years of age, a sense of balance in cooking and presenting his food. We look forward to his future: if all goes well, he has many years cooking and creating ahead. Mostly we look forward, quite selfishly, to more great dinners at Zealous.