After a few moments I decided that it was not worth a “discussion” about why taking the subway was a bad idea. It would be a bit more fun to let this trip speak for itself. So we got on board. At the very first stop towards town a couple got on the subway dressed for the holiday. At the next stop another guy. Yes as the train continued toward town, people and even groups of people piled into the ever filling cabin wearing Irish regalia and vocal with a party attitude.
I was constantly amazed at one point as more people managed to fit into the overcrowded train cabin. So here I was, tightly rubbing shoulders with people on either side of me, my wife is now sitting on my lap to make more room for others and a few other people are standing in front of crushing my knees. I took this opportunity to call Charlie Trotter’s and confirm this evenings reservation with the phone pressed firm to my head and a finger jammed in the other ear.
As I hung up the phone the woman next to me said, “I couldn’t help overhearing that you are going to Trotter’s tonight”. “Yes I am looking forward to it”, I shouted, trying to compete with the noise in the cabin. “You should really check out Avec” she countered “They are amazing. It’s like a local secret. Whenever famous chefs are in town they always pop into Avec.” She went on to tell me about how they have a small plate and large plate menu, they have new items on special daily and the food is unique. So I send myself a text saying go to Avec on Randolph St. and I committed right then and there to check it out.
As we approach downtown the train unloads the spirited passengers about 2 stops before we disembark. Finally it’s quiet and there are only a few people in the cabin. As I am getting off the train I am haunted by the description of Avec. Trying to be logical I wonder how reliable this tip could be. But somehow I became consumed with the description of this place.
That night we went to Charlie Trotter’s and had what you would expect, a VERY expensive 6 course small plate experience that quite frankly I can’t remember much about. I remember the atmosphere, the service, and even saying that I enjoyed it, but I cannot remember specifically what we ate. Now for me that is really saying something.
So the next night we piled into a taxi and asked him to take us to 615 W Randolph St, Chicago. He was not familiar with the place. In a foodie town I became somewhat nervous. When we arrived I took another pause. I look inside through the glass and the placed looked, well simple. It was a long thin place with wooden walls that had wooden benches the same color running along either side. I looked over to my wife to get her reaction. No expression. I looked next door and saw another place that looked nice. I turned back to my wife and said, “We are going here instead.” “No” she said, “You wanted to go to Avec, you wanted an experience and that is what we are going to do, let’s give it a chance.”
So we go inside. We had been told that they don’t take reservations and to get there early or you can’t get in. It was about 4:45pm so we took that advice to heart. There was almost nobody here.
Flash forward about 20 minutes. The place was jammed, we had gone through the impressive looking menu and the wine list and our first small plate was hitting the table. From the description we could not resist. It was a chorizo-stuffed Medrol dates with smoked bacon and piquillo pepper-tomato sauce. One bite of that and every doubt that I had about this place had left the building. We also ordered a large plate. A slow roasted pork shoulder with clams, braised greens, potato and linguica sausage. I literally wanted to invent new adjectives to describe the food here because awesome was not sufficient.
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