Au Revoir, Mes Restaurants

I had the pleasure of dining at Booth One the other night.   You know, it’s the old Pump Room in the Ambassador East.  Now gussied up and brought into the age moderne by the folks at Lettuce Entertain You.

It even has the old white telephone upon which legends of the stage and screen used to gab.  It was the 1940’s version of the iPhone for VIP’s.

In its heyday, these were the types who got to sit in Booth One.

Bogie and Bacall weren’t there on the Monday night that we visited. But things were lively just the same.  Kevin Brown, the CEO of Lettuce Entertain You, was on hand.

So was R.J. Melman.  He’s son of the famed founder Rich- and now President of LEYE.

(The two work as partners now that the old man has kicked himself upstairs as Chairman.)

So much for the brass. The diners were an interesting mix of young and affluent and old and affluent.

No, Wagner and Wood were A.W.O.L but there was an eighty year old billionaire with his bottle blonde, fifty-something date to add a little je ne sais quoi to the atmosphere.

The dinner itself was delish.  I split an order of Beef Wellington and a chicken paillard.  The Wellington was so retro- and so good. Made absolutely decadent by its sauceboat of truffle bordelaise sauce. )

The paillard? Safe but serviceable.

And let me add that the Booth One chef really understands his vegetables.  My squash and mushroom side – along with the artichoke fritter and baby spinach salad that accompanied my chicken – were superb.  Really ooh la la.

The amuse bouche were mini Parker House-like rolls adorned with garlic butter, parmesan cheese and poppy seeds.  I ate one.  I could have eaten the entire platter. And btw, when I asked for ground pepper for my salad, the waiter brought out a small bowl filled with cracked pepper.  I haven’t seen that touch since Chasen’s closed and it was wonderful.

And the desserts were outstanding.  I don’t have a sweet tooth and dessert is my least favorite thing but the table’s two selections- the coconut chocolate cake and the nectarine upside down cake- were fabulous.

I had a wonderful evening.  But honesty compels me to admit that I miss the Old Pump Room and all its peacock-feathered, turban-wearing, theatrical coffee-pouring glory.

So glam. So NOT politically correct.

And that got me thinking of the other dearly departed French restaurants I used to love.

Hélas, they are adieux, mes amis.

Do you remember L’Epuisette?  It was probably my very first encounter with “grown up” fancy French food.  I remember trying sole Veronique for the first time there and feeling très audacieux.

It was opened in 1963.  I made it there in 1970.  And now it’s just a belle memory.

Along with these other French beauties.

Let’s start with the grand dame of them all.

Maxim’s.  Opened by Nancy Goldberg at 1300 North Astor Street in 1963.

I made a grand entrance à la Gigi on many a night at many a fête there.

And how I loved their Veal Orloff.

It closed in 1982.  I haven’t had Veal Orloff since.

And then there was Biggs at 1150 North Dearborn.  It first opened its elegant doors way back in 1954.  It was later acquired and renovated by Ray Castro in 1964.  Jovan Trboyevic was his Maitre D’.   (More about Jovan later.)

It was très elegant.  And remember the little individual soufflés?

Are you old enough to remember La Cheminée?  Opened by Burton Kallick in 1969 at the site of what used to be La Chaumière, it had a “rustic” French ambience.   Back then, when a guy wanted to impress you, he’d take you there- even though you could get a complete dinner for ten dollars

And now let’s welcome back Jovan with two kisses on the lips.

First, he opened the eponymous Jovan at 16 East Huron in 1967.

Then in 1972, he opened Le Perroquet on East Walton.  It was a temple of French “nouvelle Cuisine.”

And he followed that up in 1979 by starting a club privé, Les Nomades.

 

The only thing I can remember about it was that Jovan very much frowned on table-hopping.  I wasn’t much of a table-hopper but I only went there once or twice.

Another star on the Chicago French culinary scene made histoire gastronomique in 1973.

But he had to go all the way to Wheeling to do it.

That’s when and where Jean Banchet opened Le Français.

So much has been written about this temple to Fine French Food that my raves are de trop.    But i must admit that I could only eat there once a year.  It was so rich- ooh la la their lobster bisque- that I would have indigestion for a week après.

I know that I’m leaving out  so many places that were fabulous.  And they don’t exist any more.

Le Coq Au Vin, Maison Lafitte , L’Auberge on Clark,  L’Escargot in the Allerton Hotel, Chez Paul.

Quelle Dommage. 

I think I’ll let a maestro have the last French word.