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I brunched at North Pond a few years ago with two very dear friends. On that balmy summer morning, I recall a cut of chilled smoked salmon so delicate and silky you would have thought it came out of a sushiya located near a campfire. There was also a wedge of warm buttery crust lined with meaty Portabello mushrooms above a thin layer of savory cream. That tart came with rich, tangy balsamic butter sauce. And I do recall committing blasphemy on that Sunday morning with a rum-infused cake.

More recently I saw Bruce Sherman at the 2008 James Beard Awards in New York (he was nominated for Best Chef Midwest). There, he served an “Anise Hyssop and Goat Cheese Sorbet with Rhubarb Relish and Herbed (chive) Shortbread Cookies,” which not only won the award for the dish with the longest title, but was one of the two best things I tried that evening.

Having vowed at our brunch to return for dinner together, North Pond seemed like appropriate place for a reunion of friends, who three years ago had met at this tiny place out of place, and who, in the intervening years, had strayed to the four corners only to find themselves back in the city wherein they had many culinary adventures together.

Dinner at North Pond is not brunch. It can seem less idyllic, especially if you are seated in the main dining room (as opposed to the “Front Room,” lined with a panoramic view of the city), which has a more tavern-like feel. At night, the restaurant’s flush, bright interior fades to a warm glow radiating from the wood-paneled and mural-covered walls. If it’s busy, like the night we met, it can feel frenetic, compounded by the view of the kitchen form the main dining room.

Although the $85 five-course “Seasonal Tasting” looked fine, we decided to cover more ground and experience a wider range of Sherman’s cooking, for about the same price, by ordering á la carte.

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First Courses

Corn, Goat Cheese

Egg, Bacon

Beets, Goat Cheese

The warm, butter-yellow corn soup poured around a dome of goat cheese panna cotta studded with large English peas at the table was frothy – almost fluffy ($13). Rife with summer sweetness, we were shocked to learn that it was completely creamless, relying solely on the freshness of the pureed kernels for the velvety rich texture. The panna cotta was more dense than light and a sobering tart anchor amidst the otherwise wanton storm of sweetness.

“Egg, Bacon” initiated what would be a running discussion about the issue of season-appropriateness ($12). Surely all of the elements of this dish - eggs, bacon, (Borlotti) beans, cress and red peppers – were in season, this being the apex of summer. But, to put them together in a hearty ragout topped with that now-ubiquitous cornmeal-crusted egg (what I’ve come to call the “molten egg ball”) seemed a bit heavy-handed for the hot weather. On its merit, it was great – the yolk oozed out on cue, the beans were meaty without being gritty or mushy, and the (cover your eyes) unctuous bacon-infused stew was hearty and robust. Come around to winter, take out the cress and the (pickled) red peppers, this dish still would have been acceptably seasonal yet much more appreciated.

On the other end of the yardstick was my Beets, Goat Cheese, which was a light and delightful summer line up of the usual suspects: chiogga, red, golden, and white baby beets accompanied by a small wheel of minted goat cheese wrapped in a grape leaf topped with a bevy of pine nuts. Other than to say that the combination of mint and pine nuts was a wonderful revelation and that the beets were perfectly cooked and sweet, there’s not much to report that you haven’t already (or can’t) imagined about this dish.

Second Courses

Walleye, Caesar

Lettuce, Radish

Charcuterie, Fruit

There was something strange about all of these “Salads.” “Lettuce, Radish” ($12) was perhaps the oddest: the wedge of butter leaf lettuce and baby red oak leaf lettuce dressed with tart shallot vinaigrette, coated with confetti of shredded radish and chopped Marcona almonds was upstaged (distracted?) by a gigantic basil-buttercream macaron. I mean, don’t let me object to a basil macaron filled (this sucker was stuffed) with buttercream, but I’m not sure I need that sweet, crumbly, and creamy confection appearing on my tart, crisp salad. I can’t say it was a bad combination, but it certainly was an odd one.

Then there was the walleye that swam (from the nearby Great Lakes) into a Caesar salad ($12), with some crispy prosciutto shavings in tow. This really could have been a small main course. The filet had a smoky charred top, which I think was its best contribution to the otherwise pretty straightforward salad.

There was nothing strange about the plate of charcuterie ($14), except that it wasn’t really a salad – in any sense of the word, really. Coppa, lonza, and lardo – all from Acron Edition – and house-made finocchiona and rabbit mousse, lined up, accompanied by shallot-raisin compote, croutons, and cress. Lardo would have been better if it had been served on hot toast – to allow it to melt slightly. Otherwise, the house-made rabbit mousse was my favorite of the lot.

Third Courses

Wild Salmon, Squash

Lamb, Cucumber

Pork, Apricots

Green Beans


There’s always a pork dish at North Pond. This one, featured a triptych: (1) ancho-braised shoulder on a chive shortbread (which appeared as a base with minestra nera) and slices of apricot; (2) roasted pork chop; and (3) boneless rib glazed with slightly sweet (I’m assuming apricot) sauce ($33). Every one of the three preparations was properly cooked and had its own personality. Was there too much activity on this plate like a good friend of mine noted from a recent meal at North Pond? Yes. Did it detract from the overall experience? Yes and no – even now, my mind rotates from one to the other, not willing or able to land on a favorite.

But this raises a good point. My friend’s observation was apt. Bruce Sherman is not a tidy presenter. If plating were an art, he waffles between folk and abstract expressionism.

Take, for example, the Lamb, Cucumber” ($35), which featured (1) juicy T-bone bedded on fluffy white “Wehani” rice; (2) yogurt-marinated lamb leg – pink and incredibly moist and tender for leg meat; and (3) nuggets of breaded sweetbreads (I’m not going to assume they were lamb sweetbreads, but it would make sense) scattered across a Jackson Pollack backdrop of spiced jus, chopped pistachios, and salad of diced cucumbers, tomatoes and garbanzo beans. It wasn’t the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, but musky and robust, the entire mess had a hearty Mediterranean appeal if looked at from afar.

Likewise, a side order of string beans (a tad high at $9) looked like an abstraction in a mini cast iron skillet. The tangle of wax, green, and purple string beans were sauteed with fat cubes of pork belly and garlic (until they went crispy) and topped with slivered almonds.

I’m not sure whether or where the polenta appeared on the “Wild Salmon, Squash” ($34) that my friend ordered. The large filet of gently-cooked salmon (I wouldn’t be surprised if it had undergone sous vides) covered a good portion of the underlying mosaic of squashes in a blushing olive oil-tomato broth. The salmon, as I suggested, was extremely soft and silky. Together, the vegetables and broth were delicate yet flavorful, which to me, perhaps of all of everything we ate, tasted most of a farmer’s bounty.

Fourth Courses

Apricot, Sweet Corn

Sorbet, Pie

Cheese, Fruit
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Mignardises

An ambitious start, our meal ended modestly for my friends. I, on other hand, wouldn’t leave the table without cheese and dessert.

My friends split the “Apricot, Sweet Corn” ($9), which found a quenelle of sweet corn ice cream perched atop a balance beam made of crêpes layered with apricot (jam, I assume). While the “crêpe Napoleon” was fine – a bit dense and wet for me – the sweet corn ice cream was better, and the halved and burnished vanilla-roasted apricot sauced with a “kernel emulsion” the best. In concert – especially with some crunchy popcorn thrown on the plate – it successfully showcased two of summer’s sweetest products together.

The biggest thrill on the “Cheese, Fruit” plate ($12), which featured three cheeses, was the slice of Capriole Mont St. Francis melted on a board of toast. I like strong cheeses and the applied heat helped amplify the funkiness in this wonderful goat milk cheese. It was nice to see something thoughtful done to a piece of cheese other than serving it plain (see here also), or making some silly composition out of/with it, like so many chefs are wont to do.

Given that the Blue Mont Bandaged Cheddar (the only one of the three that I was unfamiliar with) is uncolored, I found the very yellow interior very strange. The rind was even stranger – it tasted of wet rag, every bit the musty bandage that the wheel was wrapped in. The interior was alright – rather dull - but I did not find the rind fit for eating (and I particularly enjoy the rind normally).

The “Sorbet, Pie” was nothing like I had imagined. Instead of a wedge of something molded and frozen, I was delightfully surprised by a colorful trio of quenelles - blueberry-lavender, sour cream, and anise-hyssop sorbets – lined up on a strip of pie dough and dusted with brown sugar streusel crumbs. It reminded me of what Sherman served at the James Beard Awards: anise hyssop and goat cheese sorbet with rhubarb relish and herb (chive) shortbread (the same chive shortbread that came with the ancho-braised pork shoulder).

Tart, sweet, tangy, fruity, and fragrant, together, the effect was very much like eating sorbet pie.

I don’t consider North Pond a fine dining restaurant (for a more polished, like-minded experience in Chicago, consider Vie in Western Springs). That’s not a complaint or an insult. The refinement is in the philosophy, craft, and dedication.

Service is more friendly and casual than choreographed or sophisticated. At times service lagged – after a good twenty-minute wait, we were finally notified that our main courses would take another ten minutes due to a “crunch” in the kitchen. But, overall, our server was efficient, knowledgeable about the menu and wine, and, impressively, upon hearing us discussing the quotes on the wall, whipped out a sheet with all of the quotes accompanied by short bios of their authors.

North Pond is a slight step back in time, offering a more tinted than dented glimpse of a simpler time and place. Like captivating pangs of nostalgia, the edges may be fuzzy, the details unimportant, but overall impression sweet and deep.

It would probably be months before we three friends would be reunited again, and so we settled into a snifter of Stranahan’s Colorado Whiskey ($18), and rode out the evening on its a heady cigar smoke and thirty-mile trail of butter.

Craig B wrote:"I don’t consider North Pond a fine dining restaurant"

I would disagree with that comment. They certainly charge fine dining prices.

My wife and I had such a lousy meal there that I can't even start with what went wrong. I was really looking forward to the meal and it fell flat on its face. The chef was in the house so there was no blaming the normal staff for not executing while he was away.

ulterior epicure wrote:I think the issue of price is completely independent of fine dining.

riddlemay wrote:

ulterior epicure wrote:I think the issue of price is completely independent of fine dining.

I can be convinced of that (and probably become more convincable if you remove the "completely"), but I disagree with you in that I think North Pond is fine dining.

To me, the definition has something to do with ambition. Culinary ambition, and (for lack of a better word) ambience ambition.

Seems to me North Pond has more than modest ambitions in both departments. Whether you think their ambitions are realized is another story. In my opinion they are, but even if I thought the opposite, I'd still call North Pond fine dining--just bad fine dining.

But you might well set the ambition-bar higher than I do.

ulterior epicure wrote:Just curious, would you consider avec fine dining?

riddlemay wrote:

ulterior epicure wrote:Just curious, would you consider avec fine dining?

I haven't been to Avec. (Hangs head in shame.)

Gypsy Boy wrote:I will observe that wherever the salmon came from, it was probably the single most enjoyable piece of that particular fish I've ever had. Extremely mild for salmon, luscious, rich, and perfectly chosen complements. A stellar dish.

Gypsy Boy wrote:We returned for dinner there on Saturday night for the Lovely Dining Companion's birthday.

We had an early reservation (6:30) and were seated in a corner where two outside walls met. Given the building's age and construction (1912, brick), there is no insulation. The brick walls radiated cold and it got colder as the evening progressed. Quality of food and service notwithstanding, there is something gravely off-putting about having to wear a down jacket while eating simply in order to stay warm. (We were not alone; someone four tables away also kept his heavy winter overcoat on the entire time!) What we found even more surprising was that every staff member who had anything to do with our table took our coats in stride, as if this happens all the time. Bruce Sherman was hailing distance away, expediting the entire time but he was so focused on his work that I did not once see him look up from his plates or the kitchen. In two-and-a-half hours, he not once left his "station" that I saw.

We had the tasting menu and I feel obliged to note two things initially: First, the entire table is required to order the tasting menu. Everyone has it or no one has it. I find that off-putting, but we decided to go with the flow and not make an issue of it. What's the point? Second, one of the five courses featured lamb. I love it, LDC doesn't. So we asked if the kitchen could accommodate a change in that course. Again, we were informed that if the kitchen agreed--our server made a big point of telling us that they very well might not agree--the change would have to be made to both orders. I have never encountered such insistence before and find it silly. In the event, determined to celebrate our occasion and not let this bother us, we decided to be agreeable. We were told that the kitchen granted our humble request but that we wouldn't know what the substitution was until it arrived (though it was likely to be fish).

The menu (and our reactions), condensed and abbreviated by your humble servant:


--chilled stone crab claw, shaved fennel-apple salad, crab salad profiterole and smoked caviar
I liked the crab salad the best and while the course "worked" for me, it wasn't an out-of-the-park home run. Enjoyed it, would happily have it again, but that's it. A good app and left me eager for what would follow.


--sheep's milk ricotta-pear cappellaci, matsutake mushrooms, pear broth
Diverging opinions here: LDC liked it quite a bit more than I did. Although I liked the cappellaci (spelled incorrectly on the menu), the rest of it didn't come together for me. The ingredients/the flavors didn't mesh, didn't complement each other and never achieved that synergy generated by a total greater than the sum of the individual parts. The pear broth was, as pears are wont to be, not strongly flavored. The mushrooms and other flavors easily overtook the broth and were it not for the pasta, would have been a complete bust for me.


Next we were treated to a gift from the kitchen. A local woman, our server informed us, brings in salmon on (rare) occasion (provenance unknown to me). When it shows up, it is of such quality they consider it a great treat to have and to serve. Rightly so. A small cube of salmon came with shaved Cox Pippin apples, pea shoots, candied hazelnuts, and [?] sauce. (I neglected to take notes, the more fool I.) I will observe that wherever the salmon came from, it was probably the single most enjoyable piece of that particular fish I've ever had. Extremely mild for salmon, luscious, rich, and perfectly chosen complements. A stellar dish.


(Prawns unfortunately not visible in this photo)
--prawns, candied red beets, roasted heirloom squash, pistachios (whole and grated), parmesan foam
Mid-sized shrimp in my book, but what do I know? Another very likeable dish that I'd happily repeat but wasn't knocked out of the park. I was pleasantly surprised to enjoy the parmesan foam and, to my surprise, the saltiness of the cheese was exactly right to highlight the prawn/shrimp. With the slightly sweetness from the beets and the squash, it all married surprisingly well. To change my metaphor, although it was wonderful, it didn't sing.


--[in lieu of the lamb:] grilled swordfish, pickled apple, roasted sunchokes, curly endive, red wine glace [a smaller portion of an identical regular entree]
I enjoyed this more than LDC. The swordfish was generous in portion and well cooked. It's not a fish I want "rare" and it was cooked sufficiently but not so much as to dry out the fish. Indeed, I've had so many overcooked pieces of swordfish that I pretty much stopped eating it for a long time. Now that I see someone knows how to do it right, I may start up again.


Served after the swordfish was a shotglass of intensely flavored Concord grape sorbet with lemon gelee and lemon ice. Absolutely. Exquisite.


--chocolate mousse "dome" with apricot jam and gelee, malted milk ice cream and candied hazelnuts
We were not looking forward to chocolate, believing that it would be too heavy after what had preceded it. Wow! What a treat! The chocolate mousse was very light as was the entire dessert. We were quite pleasantly surprised and enjoyed it.

Coffee, decaf. The best I've ever had. I have, of necessity, gotten to a point in life when, if I'm going to have coffee at night, it has to be decaf. And I can attest that restaurant decaf has gotten noticeably better over the past five years. Sufficiently so that I'm usually willing to order it most places now. But this was far and away the best decaf I can remember having anywhere. And, of course, I neglected to ask whose coffee it was.

Bread, by the way, though not warm, was exceedingly fresh. Nice crusty stuff with a wonderful crumb. We both enjoyed it and ate far too much of it.

There were five courses. We waited at least fifteen to twenty minutes between each and every course. That's far too long. I am happy to have time to digest, to talk, to anticipate what's coming, and so forth. But fifteen or twenty minutes doesn't remotely work. Especially when it's after every single course. For all the beautiful presentations and good servers, despite the fact that everything was cooked just right, there was nothing on our plates that justified that kind of gap between every course. As I noted, we started at 6:30. The room was less than half-full when we arrive and was full by the time we left--after 9:00. At first we thought that there had been some mishap. (It doesn't help to hear an unhappy Bruce Sherman quizzing one of his cooks, "Do you have any bacon that's not burned?" Worse yet, the conversation devolved from there; while he never got angry or loud, this wasn't a conversation we enjoyed being treated to, either.)

One certainly can't blame the servers for the delay; and I'm completely baffled to explain how so much time could elapse between every single course unless it was by design. If so, someone should mention to the kitchen that this is excessive. Any continuity to the design of the meal is lost: four times over. I have no objection to sitting for two or three hours (or more), but not when the vast majority of that time is spent waiting. Especially when, as noted above, I'm cold as hell just sitting there.

One other observation: Sherman has been on a beet kick for several years now. Last time we ate there (at least two years ago), we were treated to a tiny packet of beet seeds to take home. We got the seed packet again last night. And once again--still--they were featured throughout the menu. Don't misunderstand. I like beets. But enough already. Let's move on to the next fad, shall we?

Given the cold spot we were given, given the excessive delays, and given the fact that the food was very good but not amazingly so, I expect it will probably be a couple years before we return again. And we'll probably go in the summer.

jpschust wrote:Sounds like the service was mediocre at best.

eatchicago wrote:What happened to Chef Sherman being inspired by and featuring local ingredients?

Gypsy Boy wrote:

jpschust wrote:Sounds like the service was mediocre at best.

The service itself was fine; attentive, timely, and unobstrusive. I/we had no problems with or objections to our server. She did a very good job; although she only presented two of the courses, she was knowledgeable and professional. It's hard to blame her for where we were seated, the cold, or the kitchen's policies or delays. And, as I hope I've suggested, the food itself was very good, if not stellar.

jimswside wrote:While the presentation is nice, providing only one stone crab claw is kind of ridiculous. How much was that "appetizer" if you dont mind me asking?

Gypsy Boy wrote:...the tasting menu is a bargain at $85.

Gypsy Boy wrote:
Next we were treated to a gift from the kitchen. A local woman, our server informed us, brings in salmon on (rare) occasion (provenance unknown to me).... Extremely mild for salmon, luscious, rich, and perfectly chosen complements. A stellar dish.

thomasec wrote:Digging this thread up....how much would dinner for 4 be if we decided not to order any alcohol?

Kennyz wrote:

thomasec wrote:Digging this thread up....how much would dinner for 4 be if we decided not to order any alcohol?

The sum of the price of each menu item ordered, plus tax and tip.

Kennyz wrote:

thomasec wrote:Digging this thread up....how much would dinner for 4 be if we decided not to order any alcohol?

The sum of the price of each menu item ordered, plus tax and tip.