Showing posts with label Chicago. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chicago. Show all posts

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Grant Achatz on Terry Gross


A few years ago -- back before we turned into big Paleo nerds -- M and I celebrated an anniversary at Alinea, a damned fine restaurant. The food was awesome in a look-ma-no-hands! molecular gastronomy kind of way, featuring unexpected twists, textures, and flavor combinations with every bite.

But just a week or so after our meal, Alinea's young chef/owner, Grant Achatz, learned that he had been stricken with cancer. And not just cancer, but cancer of the tongue. The doctors recommended that he undergo surgery to remove most of his tongue and part of his mandible, which would've rendered the then-33-year-old chef of arguably the best restaurant in North America unable to taste food ever again -- and even then, he only had a 50 percent shot to live past the grand old age of 35. It was almost Shakespearean.

Ultimately, Achatz chose an experimental treatment that preserved his tongue, but required radiation that burned and peeled off his taste buds. It wasn't clear if he'd ever taste anything again.

Today, Achatz was interviewed by Terry Gross on Fresh Air (to promote his book, cookbook, and new restaurant). His story is engrossing, harrowing, and uplifting, and foodies of all stripes should definitely give it a listen. Paleo or not, we should all share this guy's intense appreciation for flavors and food.

Thursday, March 18, 2010

What I Ate Today

Lunch at Blackbird:


Octopus confit!


Veal chops!


Dessert!

And dinner at Frontera (again):


Shrimp & calamari ceviche!


Lamb barbacoa!

Plus, I downed a bag of cashews, some carrots, a homemade protein bar, some trail mix, and some crappy hotel-conference-room food: a slider burger (sans bun), a crab cake and three cocktail wieners.

And I've been planted on my ass all day.

I think I need to go work out now.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Starving In Chicago

I just checked into my hotel and am starving. I'm contemplating whether to order something generic and possibly gross from the room service menu, or to walk over to Frontera Grill, where I always eat when I'm in Chicago, but where I'll probably have to wait a while to get a seat at the counter.

Another option would be to take a cab up to Great Lake for some Bianco-style pizza. (Just thinking about Pizzeria Bianco makes me want to fast-forward to my next trip to Phoenix.) Yes, I've been attempting to go Primal, but pizza is my Kryptonite, and if I make it to Great Lake, I'll have visited an even dozen of the 64 best pizza joints in the country (which, sadly, is still fewer than 20 percent of the places on the list).

I'm starting to drool. It's amazing how hungry you can get from sitting on a plane all day.

[UPDATED: I went to Frontera Grill, sat at the counter, and took photos of what I ate:




I'm not starving anymore.]