I had my first amuse bouche in Chicago. At that same restaurant I was introduced to a chilled soup shooter. The food was sublime. The service was impeccable. It was my first time in Chicago.
Chicago, unlike New York, has been a city that when work looked for volunteers to staff a show my hand was the first one raised. At the time I didn't pay much attention to Michelin Stars. As someone who claims to be a foodie, I have a horrible secret to share. I didn't really follow Michelin Stars until I read Jay Rayner's The Man Who Ate the World: In Search of the Perfect Dinner. Until this month, there wasn't a Michelin Red Guide for Chicago.
Why do I bring up my first time in Chicago? My first introduction to amuse bouches? Because today's guide answered a riddle I'd been unable to solve. The riddle was simple. Why do I love Chicago? I love Chicago because I've never eaten a bad dinner there. In fact, every dinner I've eaten at Chicago where I chose the restaurant (there was one team dinner exception which I don't count as there was nothing I could eat on the menu) has been at a restaurant given at least one Michelin star or acknowledged in the Bib Gourmand category.
Are you curious which Chicago restaurant is begging me to return? The restaurant is Blackbird. I went there for my 34th birthday on the recommendation of a classmate who lived there. With the exception of the food and service at Blackbird, I had a horrible birthday. The staff went above and beyond to save the night and won my heart for Chicago.
Congratulations to all Chicago restaurants, but especially to those at which I've eaten. I look forward to dining in Chicago again soon.