Mrs. JiLS and I supped at the Pump Room this Valentine's, and let me say, this was perhaps the best fancy-pants dining experience we've ever enjoyed. If you've never been (my story before last night) or haven't been in 25 years (seemingly the story of everyone else in Chicago), then you really ought to get there, now or again, as the case may be.
The food was excellent, costly, rich and elegantly presented. This being Valentine's, it was a prix fixe, and therefore probably not worth going through item-by-item, as it won't be repeated. But suffice to say, it was expertly done, and there were huge, luscious scallops; lobster; a crispy pork belly concoction that even won over Mrs. JiLS (squeamish at first, later snarfing with abandon); various other bits of fish and meat, with oh-so-very slightly amped up/modernized saucing and presentations. Paired wines were very well chosen (especially, a Baaka Valley red paired with the an olive-paste covered bread with the salad course, a bright Vouvray with the fish course, and a Walla Walla Cab served with the lamb course that was seriously good; wish I'd remembered to ask for the wine card, but alas). Again, just the sort of thing you expect to get served when you sit your fancy-pantsed posterior in one of the overstuffed, brocade-backed booths at the Pump Room.
The room itself is spiffy and elegant. The service was incomparable and without flaw (and I mean that, seriously. Those who know me, know my appreciation for truly professional service, and that, sir or madam, is what was on offer at the Pump Room last night). The pianist was remarkably worth listening to (apparently they had frozen Bill Evans in 1980 and thawed out at least his hands for the occasion). And the crowd (including many obvious regulars in the bar) were convivial and the whole mis en scene got to me, such that --- for at least a moment -- this Hoosier boy actually felt like a real, born and bred Chicagoan. For that's what the Pump Room really is: a pure piece of Chicago. To the extent they may have had a decline in the past few years (decades), that's all over now. Or was last night. We are anxious to find the right excuse to get back. Maybe VI will let me borrow his Kup jacket.
JiLS