Chicago Dining, Part I: Bazaar Meat by Jose Andres
Chicago, ILL — With about 40 acclaimed restaurants nationwide and in the Bahamas, plus awards galore including a Presidential Medal of Freedom for his global humanitarian work through his World Central Kitchen, Jose Andres cuts a large swath in life.
So, when you step inside one of his restaurants, you know you’re in for a big, bold time.
That’s definitely true at Bazaar Meat by Jose Andres. It’s operated by the Emmy-winning and multi-James Beard Award-garnering chef, and owned by the Chicago’s Gibsons Restaurant Group. It may be five years old now, but you’d never know it from the crowd on a recent Thursday night when I dined, which appeared to be a mix of tourists and business people alike.
Take the elevator up to the second floor of the Bank of America tower to get to the restaurant, where you’ll walk past glassed-in refrigerator cases of Japanese Wagyu beef and American prime, aged for a minimum of 28 days.
The lively dining room features cork ceilings for sound dampening, along with dramatic crimson stalagmite chandeliers and not to mention beautiful views of the Chicago River.
You’re greeted with glasses of cava, a nice touch as you peruse the menu with selections from the four kitchens that make up this restaurant.
For good measure, you might also want to indulge, as I did, in a Salt Air Margarita of ($16) of tequila, orange liqueur, and lime. Instead of the usual rim of salt, it gets topped with salt air, a briny foam that looks like sea foam and tastes more measured than salt grains landing on your tongue.
That’s followed by an amuse that’s so delicious that you already can’t wait for the rest of the meal to follow. It’s referred to as a danish, but that doesn’t do it justice. It’s a perfect pastry, teeny as can be, buttery and crispy like a croissant, and topped with vivid green allium mousse and jamon Iberico crumbles. It is sensational.
Andres famously began his career at Ferran Adria’s El Bulli, the forerunner of molecular gastronomy. So, expect some especially creative techniques and modernist approaches to many of the dishes, especially the snacks and appetizers.
In fact, one could make almost an entire meal out of those alone, which is what my husband and I practically did.
I’ve had his “Ferran Adria” marinated olives before ($17), but they never cease to satisfy. It’s a pairing of traditional olives stuffed with pickled peppers and herbs in contrast to olive juice “spheres” that look for all the world like olives but taken in one bite dissolve into a gush of liquid, coating your entire mouth with the deep taste of olives.
“Bagels & Lox Cone” ($8 for one) is reminiscent of the French Laundry coronet but even more precious in size. Filled with dill cream cheese and topped with orange salmon roe, it does taste like your Sunday brunch favorite.
Similarly, the Caviar Cone ($15 for one) takes that idea up a level, filled instead with horseradish creme fraiche, then topped with osetra caviar and a fleck of gold leaf.
“Tuna and Fried Egg” ($24) is anything but basic. Not when it features meaty slabs of tuna sashimi with sunny side-up quail eggs, all and finished with soy dashi. It’s like steak and eggs — but surf-style.
“Jose’s Taco” ($12 for one) is a rich, fatty-tasting umami explosion, with an unctuous slice of jamon Iberico de bellota on toasted nori with caviar and a fleck of gold leaf.
Croquetas de Pollo (4 for $14) are crispy golden logs that arrive hot with creamy chicken bechamel oozing inside for a true guilty pleasure.
Speaking of gushing goodness, don’t miss the wild “Philly Cheesesteak.” Draped with rare slices of Wagyu beef, it arrives with instructions: Take a bite from one end, being sure to tip the opposite end up as you do. That’s because the “air bread” — like a hollow, inflated canoe-shaped pita — holds a molten cheddar sauce that will cascade into your mouth when held correctly (or out the other end onto your plate or the table, if not done just so). It is like a cheesesteak — but so much better, with tender, incredibly marbled meat mingling with more pronounced cheese without the interference of cottony bread to take away from the two star ingredients.
It may sound wacky but cotton candy foie gras ($12 for one) definitely hits. Who can resist a petit swirl of cotton candy, sprinkled with pimenton for smoky heat and chopped corn nuts for a touch of crunch? The gossamer sweetness dissolves to reveal a teeny cube of foie gras torchon at the very center. The ultra fatty duck liver is classically paired with a sweet sauce or garnish, so it all makes sense in the most fantastical way.
“Not Your Everyday Caprese Salad” ($15) turns an everyday salad into a showstopper with the most vibrant pesto I’ve had with cherry tomatoes turned deeply sweet from roasting, teeny-tiny “air” croutons (hollowed out like the cheesesteak bread so that it’s all crispiness) and mozarella balls that, just like those new-fangled olives, have been spherified so they burst with liquid when eaten. The result is levels of flavor you never thought you’d experience in a salad.
Before moving onto the entree — because yes, we did order one — a refreshing yuzu sorbet dusted with shiso powder was presented to cleanse the palate.
The grill section on the menu beckons with printed words, “C’mon, guys…this is why you are here!,” that you can almost hear Andres mouthing in your ear. So, why not indulge?
Iberico pork is already prized for its succulence, its meat made even richer from the acorns that the pigs feast on. The pluma cut from the shoulder of the loin is coveted because there are only two small ones per pig. A 10-ounce portion ($58) is cooked over fire at the restaurant and served with chimichurri and mojo verde.
It arrives already sliced, charred and crusty on the edges, and smoky, juicy, nutty and buttery tasting throughout. It’s the type of meat that makes you appreciate each and every bite.
We order piquillo peppers ($15) to enjoy alongside, their sweet, fruity, and smoky taste a perfect accompaniment.
For dessert, there’s Basque cheesecake ($28) that can feed 2 to 4, only this rendition is made with goat cheese for a slight savory note. It’s typically flamed at the table. But the mini torches may have run out of fuel, as we watched an unsuccessful attempt at lighting one at a neighboring table. So, ours was brought out without those flambeed theatrics, and simply drizzled with honey and sprinkled with sea salt at the table (video).
Initially, I feared this cheesecake might taste more like a cheese course than dessert. But I have to say, they nailed the balance. It was sweet, savory, tangy and salty, with a touch of floralness from the honey — in all the right proportions. And like any good Basque cheesecake the rim was firmer and the center increasingly softer and creamier the closer you inched toward it.
As you take your leave, there’s one last treat: snack bags of cheese and caramel popcorn to take with you.
Because at a restaurant this enjoyable, you don’t want the fun to end.
