The Cats did not win, additional debrief

As it turned out, an adjusted call gave last night's game to Ohio State. Boo!! In the meantime, I took a nap and the gals and I headed out to dinner. We had reservations at an Italian restaurant that received very positive reviews on Yelp. It's true that the revolting cover photo for Vivere looked like a mound of pale stomach lining, but I chalked that up to shitty user photos that the restaurant hadn't vetted.

However, as our cab pulled up, I heard cheesy Italian music blaring from outdoor speakers and realized with a horrid sinking feeling that when "Italian Village" (rather than Vivere itself) called to confirm our res, they weren't joking.

The Italian village is this hokier-than-hokey three floor ode to Italo-American dining. Each floor boasts a different culinary experience. Laminated menus with bad photos were mounted to the left of the door, a giant fleur de lis hung from the awning, and as I peered inside and saw what looked like escalators leading you up or down to your destination, I simply couldn't go in. I looked at my friend, Trina, and said something to the effect of "we can't go in there", and she nodded her head with emphasis -NO!- and I called and cancelled the res.

I am aware that this may sound very foodie-snob, but this joint was like Olive Garden meets Disney World, and thus could not be our last supper!

Fortunately, we also had a later res at GT Fish and Oyster, and for this I will remain infinitely grateful to friend Steph for days to come. Back in a cab, to GT and to the bar for apps while we waited for our table.

GT is an aesthetically hip and appealing restaurant. All glass and white and clean lines and perfectly dim lighting and candles. Cocktail casual, a great-looking menu and a sleek bar. Trina and I split a cold plate of fresh oysters and everyone indulged in a fantastic shrimp bruschetta which included avocado purée, grapefruit, lightly seasoned shrimp, toasted pistachios and slivered serranos. Wonderful! And they pronounced bruschetta correctly, god bless 'em.

Table ready, we then moved: a perfect spot in the corner where the two glass walls met; you almost felt like you were sitting outside. It was a high table with bar chairs, and over it hung a cool, black, maritime-inspired chandelier.

I ordered a second glass of the marvelous Washington-state Syrah I was loving, and we ordered eight dishes to share (they were small plates, peeps). The grilled Caesar salad was awful, fishy and icky and just not good. But from there on out, I thought GT was great: octopus (which had been confited and them lightly pan-fried) with cauliflower, seaweed salad, pear and miso aioli; green tea soba noodles with shrimp, tofu, bok choy, thai chili soy vinaigrette; eggplant with hoisin, miso and cashews; oyster po'boy sliders with kimchi and peanuts; lobster and english pea mac and cheese; and snapper ceviche with lime, thai bird chili, roasted corn tea, cilantro and corn nuts.

And for dessert, we had an off the hook sublime salted caramel tart with bananas!!

The service was terrific too: knowledgable, friendly and wonderfully accommodating! I'd definitely recommend trying GT.

Cats win, psycho storm, GT Fish & Oyster

My gal posse and I have covered some miles today, of road and memories. We left Chicago at 10 this morning, heading north to start our day in Evanston with breakfast at Blind Faith Cafe, an old favorite of ours. It's still nestled on the same spot on Dempster that it always has been (at least since 1994). I walked past my old apartment, the one above the dry cleaner on the corner of Dempster and Elmwood. I've written about it before; it always had warm floors because it sat over the humming machines below, it was full of natural light, and it was on a great block of indy stores and neighborhood spots. Anyway, we walked through campus, bought new t-shirts, headed up to the stadium and to the tailgate and felt very nostalgic the whole time.

We had just gotten into the tailgate tent when the skies opened, and I mean cleaved wide open. A security guard grabbed a mic and told us we had to evacuate the tent and shelter in the building next to us. We decided to try to get a cab and bail and in the meantime scurried into an NU paraphernalia shop to escape the downpour. The emergency siren at the stadium started wailing and sounded eerily like a tornado alert. The streets were flooding, our cab finally came, other started hovering around it like vultures so we threw ourselves in and headed off.

Naps, showers, an almost meal-fail (Italian Village, WTF?!) a meal save (GT Fish and Oyster), a great night and the details tomorrow. I'm pooped!

Mexique

One of my college pals and I met up in O'Hare just after we landed and I got a proper coffee. We have been jabbering nonstop since then and having a blast catching up. When we checked into our hotel, we linked up with another college friend, and I determinedly searched for a fab lunch spot: Mexique! If you feel you've heard of Mexique, it may be because its chef, Carlos Gaytan, is in season 11 of Top Chef (in New Orleans) and Mexique was recently awarded a Michelin star.

Mexique is on a relatively nondescript block of W Chicago Ave, in West Town. Inside its heavy front glass doors though is a lovely, spare oasis. We sat at the only table looking out onto the street, primarily because we knew we'd be laughing and talking and didn't want to bother the few patrons at the rear of the restaurant.

The cuisine is purported to be a Mexican-French fusion, though I didn't find much evidence of the latter. That said, our food was really, really good, so the absence of elements French didn't detract from the pleasure we took in the meal.

Alli and I shared the pumpkin soup with cranberries and two other delectable ingredients I can't recall (it was a special so not written down), and it was absolutely scrumptious. Dairy-free, you'd never suspect as much, and the layers of varying textures and spice made each bite a new and happy experience. I would very willingly eat a bowl of this daily!

Alli and Steph each continued on with mixed taco plates: tilapia with negro modelo batter and chipotle aioli; coffee-braised lamb barbacoa; pork belly with almonds, mole negro and pickled onions; crispy chicken... They loved each one but felt the lamb shone as the brightest star.

I opted for the huarache de camaron, an oval shaped masa cake that was perfectly crisped on the outside and soft and chewy inside, topped with shrimp in guajillo salsa, bacon, black beans, guacasalsa and pickled onions. I thought it was absolutely wonderful: fresh, bursting with a nice and thoughtful confluence of flavors, and just the right size portion.

It was another dish I'd happily eat on a regular basis. Alli and I each enjoyed a glass of Chardonnay from the Penedes region of Spain which was wonderfully clean and crisp, no syrupy malolactic biz anywhere in the glass!

The few flaws were disappointing ones: restaurant 101 stuff really, and downright shocking coming from such a highly regarded place. Almost every one of our plates and glasses looked and felt dirty. Not "this has never been washed," but "hmm...this has not been washed well." If you look on the soup bowl, for example, you might be able to discern a pinkish spot. It had a little fuzz stuck to it. There was some grit on the rim of my wine glass. And forget the plating. What could have been lovely, even strong, was marred by ugly, unprofessional drips and spatters, and by wilted garnishes or old greens. Alli's salad was definitely not on the good side of fresh, and there's no excuse for that.

Our waiter professed to have absolutely no cash for change; either on hand or in the restaurant. He said he could send someone out to find some; we said we'd just use credit cards. But that was utterly bizarre and should be remedied ASAP.

There were at least four flies/gnats buzzing around our heads the whole time. We were sitting by the door and window, and I didn't totally fault Mexique but in concert with the dirty dishes, well, you do the math.

Overall, though, I have to give Mexique an enthusiastic review because the food was excellent! Hope they can smooth the few rough edges because it's a delicious asset to Chicago's exciting food scene.