Remembering Beef Wellington @ The Bakery

Remembering Beef Wellington @ The Bakery

When The Wife and I were in grad school on the southside, we decided to splurge and have dinner at a (to us) upscale northside place. In those days, there was really only one choice for aspirant foodies: The Bakery . Reservations had to be made a month in advance (almost unheard of in those days) and the price was astronomical (I seem to recall $20/person for a prix fix dinner). It was BYOB (we brought a Rioja, which fascinated our server: wine from Spain was somewhat rare, at least in those days in these parts).

Louis Szathmary was among the first chefs who might be called a celebrity, in the sense that he was instantly recognizable (walrus-like mustache, hugely good humored, radiant rubicund visage, always in a toque) and media-savvy. He spent a number of years on television, appearing on shows like Dinah “See the USA in your Chevrolet” Shore and Phil Donahue. He did ads for Stewart’s Coffee, which even at the time seemed odd that he’d serve in his restaurant…but then again, The Bakery was perhaps not “fine dining” in the NYC or European sense; it just seemed that way to young Chicagoans during the Carter years.

At various points during the dinner service, Chef Louis would prowl the dining room, shaking hands, spreading good vibes, and basking in adulation.

I have a fairly clear memory of our first meal there: we started with pate (doled out from a huge silver tureen), then French onion soup, and a Beef Wellington, which is an odd dish in that it blends French technique with English-favored beef and it bears the name of the guy who spanked the French at Waterloo. For all those oddly alluring reasons, and because it may have been the only item that was actually “baked” at The Bakery, and because it seemed exotic and unusual, I ordered it on each of my three visits to this Lincoln Avenue restaurant.

As prepared by Szathmary, it was tenderloin topped with pate en croute, and it was served, I believe, uncut, whole.

Recipes for Beef Wellington were catalogued by Claiborne and Child, and it seemed like kind of the go-to fancy food of the era.

A few weeks ago when I was interviewing Jean Joho, I brought up the idea of serving Beef Wellington, and he lit up and enthusiastically told me that, indeed, he had put this dish on the menu at his Las Vegas restaurant. I doubt there are many other “name” places that condescend to prepare this throwback, though it still sounds tasty to me.

On our last visit to The Bakery, and in the service of maximizing cognitive dissonance, we followed up dinner with a performance by Tom Waits at Park West: he sang his final number (“Invitation to the Blues,” as I recall) “crucified” between two Philips 66 gas pumps as fans threw him cartons of Lucky Strikes. After the lights came up, Waits wove his way back to the bar and waited for people to come up to say hi. We were too awed to approach him, one of the great regrets of my youth. At least we had Beef Wellington at the Bakery.

For the modern age, pre-chin-job Gordo Ramsey does BW without pate, substituting Parma ham – hey, it’s the twenty-first century.



And on that note, check out BeefWellington’s musings on “the aesthetics of woman’s essence and ass shapes are enticing the man’s tastes, magnetic”:



Beef Wellington at The Bakery. It was a different time.

I loved Chef Louis' rendition of BW. I first became acquainted with it by accident==in the 70s, I was friends with some Hungarians who were renting one of the apartments above the restaurant, where one of their sons was working as a waiter. One night he brought up an order of BW gratis, and started a long-term love affair between me and the Bakery. I must have tried the BW there at least a half dozen times before the sad day when they closed down. I always thought that I would be able to find the dish somewhere else, but that is easier said than done.

Reminiscing on past meals is all very well, but who's doing beef wellington locally now, and how do they do it?

Like David Hammond, a visit to The Bakery was one of my first adult fine-dining experiences. Got there twice for the Beef Wellington (of course!) before they closed and have spent the past 20 years trying to find another that's anywhere near as good.

I'm not sure if it's a warped memory or reality, but so far nothing has even come close.

Pete Miller's has it - http://www.petemillers.com/pdfs/PMW.Dinner.web.0310.pdf
I've never had it there.

Dave148 wrote:Pete Miller's has it - http://www.petemillers.com/pdfs/PMW.Dinner.web.0310.pdf
I've never had it there.

I have. It's good, but not nearly as good as the Bakery.
We ate at the Bakery twice, and the last time was on the last night of the restaurant. We went with two friends, the husband was Hungarian and had been there many times and wanted to say goodbye. I don't remember the wine, although I do know it was an Hungarian red. It was a great meal, so cool to be there on the last evening. Chef Louis came around and talked to each table and said his goodbyes.
I actually have Chef Louis' recipe for BW, it was in the Sun Times a realllly long time ago. I can try to find it and transcribe it here for anyone who would like it.

LTH,

I first came through Chicago in 1973 on tour of the midwest, as a bass trombonist with the U.S. Army Field Band of Washington, D.C. http://www.armyfieldband.com/ A fellow band member from the midwest had been raving for weeks about going to The Bakery for their Beef Wellington when we got to town, and of course, I had to have it. We dined at The Bakery two consecutive nights, but I must confess to having had the roast duck with cherry sauce the second night.

I have a copy of the Beef Wellington recipe, which is in Chef Szathmary's 1972 The Chef's Secret Cookbook, which Chef Szathmary autographed for me. An integral part of this recipe is his house made pate recipe, which is also in this book.

Those two dinners, and many more as a traveling musician, were my inspiration for putting my horn back in it's case for good and picking up a French knife as a profession, a move that I made in 1979.

David Hammond said:
"As prepared by Szathmary, it was tenderloin topped with pate en croute, and it was served, I believe, uncut, whole."

David, you are correct. It was probably a 7 or 8 oz. center cut filet - I'll have to look it up later. This was a much more cost efficient production method for Chef Louis than to sear and wrap a whole tenderloin, possibly ending up the evening with 3-4-5 orders already roasted off and unsold. Keep in mind the fact that this was his "signature dish" and he probably sold 40-50 orders each night. Much better for his food cost. And as you might remember, that same pate was served with thinly sliced dill pickles to every customer as an "amuse". This pate recipe utilizes cooked and shredded leftover meats such as duck, chicken, beef and veal, all of which were whipped in a mixer with lard and/or chicken/duck schmaltz. A perfect vehicle for the chef to "sell" any and all leftover meat/poultry.

I will be happy to send either recipe by P.M. to anyone who would like a copy. David, thank so you very much for bringing up this well deserved topic.

I was an undergrad in that period and a group of us made the Beef Wellington pilgrimage a couple of times. (Aside from The Bakery, fine dining for us was The Keg in Evanston. Seems to me that Leslie Reis had Cafe Provencale at that time, but somehow it wasn't on our radar.)

For some reason---a perfervid imagination combined with limited experience of the world, I expect---I found the experience of eating at there almost sinister, in a thrilling and glamorous way.

The combination of formality and old-world Europeanness created, for me, an impression of high times in Weimar in the 20s, just before it all came crashing down.

The catalyst for this was a tiny moment when, after feeling slightly oppressed by hyper-vigilent ashtray-emptying (ah, yes, smoking at the table!) and water glass re-filling (you couldn't so much as flick or sip without a uniformed busboy appearing over your shoulder) making me feel more spied upon than served, I suddenly realized that beneath all the graciousness, everything that happened at the table was under invisible but rigorous control.

The entrees were being served and a waiter came around separately with the veggies, spooning them onto each plate with the Wellington. As he transferred 3 or 4 new potatoes to my plate another potato rolled from his dish to my plate as he leaned in, and he took it back. Suddenly, I realized that I was only allowed that exact number of potatoes, and that this was so strict a standard that he had to take back the extra one. I imagined him returning to the kitchen 1 tiny potato short and being summarily fired.
Thus, as Chef Szathmary toured the dining room I saw him not as a grandfatherly host, but a tyrant counting individual potatoes and haricots.
I felt like I was an extra in an out-take from the film of "Cabaret," possibly in danger of being rousted from my meal by brown shirted toughs.
None of this has anything to do with The Bakery, of course, but it has become my memory of eating there.
I don't remember the Wellington itself very well, but I was always under the impression that it was one of those dishes that faded from the scene because it's nearly impossible to make it work---being encased in dough not being the best way to treat the meat, and the meat juices ultimately doing bad things to the dough---so that the result almost always compromised the 2 main elements.
I may be entirely wrong about that, but it's what I think I had "learned" somewhere.
Tom Waits, alas, does not figure in my Bakery memories. (Though Dexter Gordon does, in ways similarly wonderful.)

Hi,

It's interesting to begin with a film clip of Gordon Ramsey making Beef Wellington. In at least one Hell's Kitchen series, Beef Wellington was a menu item the contestants were always struggling with. One person took to hiding less than perfect Beef Wellingtons, which Ramsey found and flipped out about.

I was at The Bakery only once with my family. I remember the pate and Chef Louis roaming the dining room and that's about it.

At Culinary Historians, I've met Szathmary's wife Sada and various people he employeed. Barbara Kuck worked closely with him in the kitchen and in his personal library. When part of his extensive collection of cookbooks and related materials went to Johnson and Wales, Barbara followed as its curator.

I have several signed copies of his books found at house and rummage sales. Whenever I find his books or the Popes, I pick them up.

Regards,

Yes, love Beef Wellington. I've also come across
some fine Salmon Wellingtons. This one in Vienna
was served cold (with a side of "fish jello" - not so fine).

But I've also had it warm with a lemon-based
sauce; absolutely delicious.

In the mid 70's, with one kid away at summercamp, my parents and I went to The Bakery. I was about 10 years old so my memory is limited. I remember having to be on my best behavior. I don't recall anything about the food ( I ate everything as a kid)-but Chef S. visited our table and said that he would bake my wedding cake for me when I grew up. I know that he donated all of his cook books to a college-were these displayed in bookcases in the dining room? For some reason I recall seeing them but it could be a false memory.

mrbarolo wrote:The entrees were being served and a waiter came around separately with the veggies, spooning them onto each plate with the Wellington. As he transferred 3 or 4 new potatoes to my plate another potato rolled from his dish to my plate as he leaned in, and he took it back. Suddenly, I realized that I was only allowed that exact number of potatoes, and that this was so strict a standard that he had to take back the extra one. I imagined him returning to the kitchen 1 tiny potato short and being summarily fired.
Thus, as Chef Szathmary toured the dining room I saw him not as a grandfatherly host, but a tyrant counting individual potatoes and haricots.

Szathmary may very well have been tyrannical and careful about portion control, but oddly I recall getting "seconds" on the pate when it was clear we really liked the stuff. The Bakery waiters seemed to me to be total pros, very friendly and genuinely interested in their patrons’ happiness: so when our waiter saw us devour the pate, he carved out another scoop from the terrine.

Evil, thanks for reminding me of the thin sliced pickles (I almost posted that they were gherkins, but that didn't seem right -- they were, now that you remind me, translucent green disks, delicate and moist).

David Hammond said:
"Evil, thanks for reminding me of the thin sliced pickles (I almost posted that they were gherkins, but that didn't seem right -- they were, now that you remind me, translucent green disks, delicate and moist)."

Yes, and they worked perfectly with that hearty yet refined pate. I don't remember the bread service. Too long ago. But I clearly remember being both surprised and delighted with the rich pate accented with Kosher pickle! No cornichons!

but oddly I recall getting "seconds" on the pate when it was clear we really liked the stuff.

I believe that the offer of seconds on the pate was standard, since it matches my recollection, too. Not for the Beef Wellington, tho.

Hi,

Two years ago, Barbara Kuck presented to Chicago Foodways Roundtable, "Chef Louis Szathmáry and “The Bakery” Restaurant."

Fasten your seatbelts, this is a riveting talk on Louis Szathmary of The Bakery that goes for full two hours courtesy of Chicago Public Radio's Chicago Amplified series, which you can download from here.

Regards,

I'm trying to think of anywhere that's cooking anything en croute these days. It just doesn't seem to be that common anymore.

I didn't make it down to the Bakery (though my parents did), but in the mid-'70s, I made the first of what became annual pilgrimages to Le Français. That first visit, my date and I shared their famous salmon with truffles and lobster mousse baked en croute and served with three sauces. (It seems that many things baked en croute during that era were inevitably for two. Is it more difficult to cook things well if you have too small a meat to crust ratio?)

It seems to me that a lot more high-end places did en croute dishes back then -- not just in the US, but also in France (as Le Français's salmon en croute was a Paul Bocuse creation). Then it vanished. Nice to think crust might be slipping back onto the scene.

Cynthia wrote:I didn't make it down to the Bakery (though my parents did), but in the mid-'70s, I made the first of what became annual pilgrimages to Le Français. That first visit, my date and I shared their famous salmon with truffles and lobster mousse baked en croute and served with three sauces.

I'm pretty sure The Wife and I had the salmon en croute (the exterior was carved to simulate a fish, cool) at Le Francais sometime in the 70s, and we began the meal with a mega-caloric belly bomb of pates (it was like eight big scoops, and we ate it all...before dinner proper).

David Hammond wrote:Szathmary may very well have been tyrannical and careful about portion control, but oddly I recall getting "seconds" on the pate when it was clear we really liked the stuff. The Bakery waiters seemed to me to be total pros, very friendly and genuinely interested in their patrons’ happiness: so when our waiter saw us devour the pate, he carved out another scoop from the terrine.

Evil, thanks for reminding me of the thin sliced pickles (I almost posted that they were gherkins, but that didn't seem right -- they were, now that you remind me, translucent green disks, delicate and moist).

Evil Ronnie wrote:Yes, and they worked perfectly with that hearty yet refined pate. I don't remember the bread service. Too long ago. But I clearly remember being both surprised and delighted with the rich pate accented with Kosher pickle! No cornichons!

The very good bread came from nearby Toscana Bakery (at least until it closed in 1980). I remember enjoying the bread and butter almost as much as the pâté.

Evil Ronnie wrote:We dined at The Bakery two consecutive nights, but I must confess to having had the roast duck with cherry sauce the second night.

I had the duck on my only visit to The Bakery, in 1976, but envied my tablemates who ordered Beef Wellington. The duck was a pain to eat politely, not to mention too sweet.

The other day I met someone who had escaped Budapest, Hungary two months after the 1956 revolution. Of course, Chef Louis Szathmary and the Bakery Restaurant were one of the topics discussed. The person mentioned they were a friend of his and we exchanged some reminiscences.

My boss in 1964 introducing me to the Bakery the year after they opened. Being a big fan of his restaurant and hosting numerous business dinners there, I got to know Louis. I never spend big bucks there like other customers did; however, it got to the point where my first wife and I could stop by after the final seating on a Sat. night and enjoy a dessert with Louis and the staff in the cold kitchen. Louis enjoyed demonstrating a "Hungarian hand kiss" to her. It started at her fingertips and worked up her arm to her shoulder and down towards her bosom.

So I decided to Google his name and found a citation to a link on the LTH Forum. It referenced a talk given two years ago by Louis' assistant, Barbara Kuck, that's still available at the Chicago PBS website:
http://www.chicagopublicradio.org/Conte ... dioID=2632 It's a shame they didn't have a mic available for the Q&A at the end of Barbara's talk.

I knew that Louis had developed, while at Armour Foods, their institutional line of frozen entrees. In 1968, I was on a business trip to Massachusetts and arrived late at the Worcester Holiday Inn just as the restaurant was closing (around 10 pm.) The waitress gave me a full menu and I asked if I could order anything from the menu. She assured me that I could. I think I order the fish and it was quite tasty. I found out from her that it was part of the frozen entrees from Armour. I told her I knew the person responsible for developing the product line and she was impressed.

Lots of good memories, including the time in 1969 when I took the president of the Sugar Assn. to dinner at the Bakery. Louis pitched him adamantly and insisted that one of the reason the industry wasn't doing well is that they hadn't used him as a consultant. (Every savory dish Louis served had a pinch of sugar to enhance the flavors.) Louis didn't know that the association's annual meetings were just the top industry executives getting together to discussing areas of mutual interest. The Sugar Assn. didn't have a show or expo with logs of attendees. But Louis gave him the hard sell.

There must be a gazillion stories from those of us of a "certain age" who recall Louis and the Bakery. It would be nice to see them posted here. He really was a pioneer in the food and hospitality industry and a great promoter of his adopted city, Chicago.

Regards,
Grandpa Bob

So, for my birthday dinner last week, The Wife made a big Beef Wellington...and it was okay. We both agreed that it was a mistake to use a full tenderloin -- had we prepared individual beef tenderloins, there would have been a higher crust to meat ratio, and so it would have been less likely to have been kind of soggy, which it was, so much so that the crust kind of fell off individual slices, which was not good.

Also, the liver pate did not add much to the overall composition, and in fact, I was not crazy about the organ meat tang on the tenderloin (it's possible The Wife used too much pate, but she was just following the recipe as far as amount).

A good and thoughtful effort, but this recipe needs work.

My wife made BW for my birthday when we were first married about 15 years ago. The full Julia Child recipe from scratch. She made the whole tenderloin and it was just the two of us. The first night it was fantastic - a revelation even. The next day, re-heated it was OK. By the third night I decided that I had had enough. We threw at least a third of it away. One of these days we'll tackle it again.

I've had BW both as a whole tenderloin and as individual filets over the years. While the whole tenderloin makes for a spectacular presentation, I prefer the individual method for the sake of more and crispier pastry.

I remembered this thread when I was wandering around Harrods in London recently and spotted this Beef Wellington available in one of the deli cases.



I'd love to tell you how it was, but I'm far too cheap to eat basically anything at Harrods (I did indulge in some outrageously-priced charcuterie...).

-Dan

DAvid,

Whose recipe was your wife following?

I'll bet my friend who cooked at The Bakery would have been happy to advise.

Regards,

No pictures, but for New Year's Eve I made Beef Wellington for the first time using this Serious Eats recipe. It was phenomenal.

For the mushrooms, I used about 2/3 shiitakes, 1/3 button. Picked up prosciutto de Parma from Eataly along with foie gras. Eataly sells fresh foie gras (about $32/pound if I recall correctly) and I was thrilled that they not only will sell less than the full lobe, but that when I got home I noticed that they cut it perfectly for me so that no trimming was required.

I picked up the center cut tenderloin at Whole Foods after receiving their $15 Dominick's-related coupon which made for a great deal. I also picked up Dufour puff pastry at Whole Foods.

And finally, I used cognac for the liquor.

Most importantly, the flavors and texture were terrific. Using fresh foie gras really made a difference and you could definitely taste it. I also prepared a green peppercorn sauce to go with it though I really don't think I needed it (but I love green peppercorn sauce!).

BR, so you used fresh liver and not pate. I don't think I've ever had it that way.

C2, sorry I didn't answer your query from 2010 -- we were making it up as we went along. Used way too much pate. It was not good.

David Hammond wrote:BR, so you used fresh liver and not pate. I don't think I've ever had it that way.

C2, sorry I didn't answer your query from 2010 -- we were making it up as we went along. Used way too much pate. It was not good.

Exactly - a quick saute of the foie gras (only 4 ounces), add rendered fat to mushroom mixture, then slice the foie gras horizontally, and eventually drape it over the tenderloin. I much preferred this version to ones I've tasted using pate.