Climbing Everest

"We knocked the bastard off."

-Sir Edmund Hillary, on his successful ascent of Mt. Everest

We really have no business going to Everest, my wife and I. For a celebration dinner, we're lucky to hit the next tier down - Blackbird, maybe, or mk for desert. The fifth anniversary seemed worth a greater-than-the-usual-splurge splurge, so we considered Tru for the desert menu after a dinner at home. But 10:30 pm seemed too late for the sitter to start, and we were reluctant to leave the three-month old for more than a few hours.

Recalling a recent suggestion from sundevilpeg, I made reservations for Everest's pre-theatre seating -- three courses, $48, 5:30 p.m. Thinking I had hit upon a perfect solution (special restaurant, early seating, short outing, relative value), I casually proposed Everest to my wife. Her counteroffer: Superdawg. As I said, we really have no business going to Everest.

But this marriage hasn't lasted five years by accident. We're beginning to master the fine art of compromise. After setting out for the Evanston's farmer's market late Saturday morning, the plan was to hit Superdawg for lunch on the way home. Superdawg was not so much on the way, so we settled for Fluky's instead. And the wife wasn't so hungry, so I ate both hot dogs. So much for compromise. But this left us both plenty hungry for our 5:30 dinner.

Everest is not an easy place to get to, and I would not have known this had I not looked at some metromix comments a few days earlier. And I'm not sure we would have found it at all had I not called for very detailed directions. The restaurant is on the 40th floor of a tall building in the Financial District 'so security is very tight', explained the woman on the phone.

We pulled up to One Financial Place several minutes before our scheduled arrival. The parking garage is beneath the building, and unlike many parking garages not attached to private homes, it has a door which keeps our unwanted visitors. We slowly approached the garage, like the portcullis of some impenetrable medieval fortress, and buzzed the attendant. After acknowledging that there was, in fact, a reservation in our name at Everest we were allowed to proceed past the first checkpoint. Several signs and arrows later we approached a second closed garage door, with a sign prominently beckoning (I kid you not), 'Move forward to the electronic eye.' Thankfully, the electronic eye approved of us.

Once you're actually inside the inside garage, Everest provides complimentary valet parking. Again we received instructions via somewhat abstruse signage. We got out of the car and waited. We got back in the car. We walked around the garage a bit. We walked back to the car. Another car pulled up behind us. A man in a tuxedo came out of the elevator, gave us a valet ticket, and we began our ascent.

While we only had to pass through two garage doors, three elevators were required to actually enter the restaurant. I couldn't quite decide if this elaborate entrance scheme was cool or dorky. I would have liked it a lot more had we been handed martinis as we got out of our car. Maybe they did give martinis to guests who didn't arrive in a beat-up '93 Honda Civic.

Finally, we reached the inner sanctum. After this labyrinthine journey, I'm not quite sure what I expected. Something dark, I suppose, a bit mysterious. Clubby, maybe. Intimate. Early '80s hotel ballroom. Oh wait, that was not what I expected. But it's what we got.

I'm sure things are a bit different when the sun goes down. The dining room has glass ceilings (covered by billowy cream fabric) and a wall of windows that supposedly afford a fantastic view of the city. Unfortunately, at this unseemly dinner hour, the sun would have flooded the room and imposed on the windowside diners. The blinds remained closed throughout our meal. The almond-colored columns, the carpet, the cream-and-black contrast, all screamed old school elegance in the most amusing way to this late 20s couple. I had to stifle a chuckle as I gave our name to the two gentlemen at the reservation stand, the mighty restaurant's last defense against us intrepid diners.

We were welcomed graciously, blessed with anniversary greetings, and immediately led to our table. The seating area is two-tiered (maybe three). The lower level, like box seats at a baseball game, is the level with the best view next to the window. The upper level where we were seated has a gigantic station in the middle of the room at which the waitrons and other serving staff attend to their business. Facing this station are two wrap-around, sofa-like table settings against the back wall. We were given one of these tables.

Perhaps this is supposed to be romantic. And perhaps it would have been had the lighting not been more evocative of a great-grandmother's 100th birthday brunch than a young couples fifth anniversary. And if we had been staring out over the skyline instead of at the epicenter of restaurant activity. But, hey, at least we were on a sofa.

Our waitress was a middle-aged woman who spoke crisp English with a slight German accent. Befitting the accent she was very professional, if not particularly warm. We both planned on ordering the pretheatre menu, but took a few moments to look over the menu anyway. It looked good. We ordered the pretheatre menu with wine pairings. My wife ordered a Lillet, her recent favorite aperitif.

[Now, a brief interruption about Everest's prices. When we go to the liquor store and buy a bottle of Lillet, it costs about $15. When we go to a nice neighborhood place like Tournesol and order a glass, it's about $5. Everest charges (pause for effect) $14 for a Lillet on the rocks. Fourteen freakin' dollars! I expect expensive food at Everest. I expect expensive drinks. But that kind of markup (800%?) is simply unjustifiable to me.]

Our amuse was a trio of bites: a cauliflower fondant topped with a smidgeon each of caviar and smoked salmon; a small cup of cold mint pea soup; and a sort of foie gras custard. Each was delicious, especially the relatively pedestrian sounding soup. My wife, who does not care for caviar or foie gras, devoured her bites with gusto, both a high compliment to the restaurant and a pointed indicator of the quality of caviar and foie gras on which her opinions are based.

The first course was a pheasant sausage with some small bitter green and a truffle vinaigrette. The wine pairing was a 1998 Marcel Deiss Beblenheim Pinot Gris. The sausage was good if not especially memorable. The wine was absolutely wonderful, though at this remove from the meal, less banal descriptors elude me.

The second course was a hearty spread of venison in a wild huckleberry sauce served with braised brussell sprouts, radishes, and knepfla, a sort of Alsatian cousin to spaetzle. The radishes were merely good, but every other element of the main course left me wanting more, not because the portions were too small, but because they were all so wonderful.

It strikes me that delightful plates of brussell sprouts, radishes, and spaetzle rarely cross the American palate these days, and this sort of thing is clearly Everest's strength. The venison was beautifully cooked, a nice deep red center, and provided a rich foil to the tender, chewy, doughy knepfla and the sprouts, devoid of all sprouty ickiness, but imbued with a nice, rustic, vegetal goodness. The wine was a 2000 Coudolet de Beaucastel Cotes-du-Rhone, a very nice match.

For dessert, we were served apple strudel and ice cream with a 2002 Marco Negri Moscato d'Asti. It was perfectly enjoyable, but it was, uh, strudel.

The courses were paced as you would expect for a pretheatre menu. We were asked if we needed to be anywhere when we arrived, and when we said no, I had hoped they could afford us a more leisurely pace, but alas, this hope was for naught. Each new wine was poured before the last was finished and dishes were brought out in fairly rapid succession.

Exiting the Everest compound proved much less a challenge than entering it. The mystery, I suppose, was gone. And there was still plenty of light in the day when we left.

I don't know how much different the Everest experience would be at a later hour with a longer meal, maybe chatting it up with Alpana Singh, ordering a $300 Grand Cru Riesling, enjoying yet another of Chef Joho's masterful executions. Probably a lot. I'll probably never find out.

I couldn't help thinking of Chicago Magazine recently crowning Everest as the top restaurant in town. And I thought about all those starred restaurants people talk about in Europe, and what I've always imagined to be the perfect balance of elegance and comfort and deliciousness they offer to their patrons. Everest didn't approach this imaginary standard. But as I say, we didn't really have any business being there in the first place.

I reviewed Everest over on the Chowhound boards a few months ago. I think your descriptions of locating the restaurant and the interior are right on. We were pretty dissapointed and won't be headed back any time soon. Let me know if you would like the link to my post, I can dig it up.

I haven't been to Everest for years, I liked it, but wasn't as wowed as the magazines suggest I should be. Mike and had contemplated going there for this New Year's 2003, but when the refused to make any substitutions for my dietary issues during pregnancy, which were essentially one - no fish, we took our business elsewhere. The one thing that strikes me in reading your description of the menu is the number of items that are neither seasonal nor local, cauliflower, apple, brussel sprouts. I mean we're embarking on the most plentiful growing season - the markets are full with local strawberries, raspberries, greens etc., etc. and they're serving brussel sprouts? That always disappoints me at even the most casual of restaurant and certainly of restaurant of Everest's calibur and reputation.

Thanks, spa_girl...I had your Everest post in mind when I made the reservation. I'm glad, actually, because your post lowered my expectations enough that I wasn't really too disappointed. In fact, we had a great time, sitting in the corner drinking four glasses of wine in about an hour and a half, eating some really very wonderful food, and giggling about the whole production.

MAG wrote:The one thing that strikes me in reading your description of the menu is the number of items that are neither seasonal nor local.

Yeah, that was a point I forgot to make. Even during the delicious main course, neither of us could help but feel that this meal should have been served 5 or 6 months earlier. It seemed a bit strange.

To be fair, I don't think that a fine restaurant must make use of local/seasonal produce, though perhaps this violates the Slow Food credo. I kind of like the idea of trying to unabashedly bring a piece of Alsace to Chicago, and not just in the sense of applying traditional techniques to local ingredients. But I still couldn't help but wonder if pheasant sausage, venison, brussel sprouts, and apple strudel were spring dishes in Alsace. It just felt a bit weird. But then, the whole meal was kind of time warp-y weird, so in that sense, it worked.

Can anyone enlighten me as to pricing at Everest? Just curious how much the Tasting Menu w/ Wine Pairings is gonna set me back...

Here is what is currently listed on the site; I'd give them a call and check the price and the offerings, as well as the wine pairings and price:

J. Joho, vous Propose Son Menu Degustation

Assortment of Everest Appetizers
Les Ouvertures de la Soiree

Cream of Chestnut, Duck Confit
La Creme de Chataignes au Canard confit

Sauteed New York State Foie Gras, Marinated Turnips
Le Foie Gras Saute aux Navets a la Colmarienne

Roasted Maine Lobster with Cabbage and Pinot Noir
Le Homard du Maine Roti au Chou et Pinot Noir

Medallion of Venison, Quince Compote,Wild Huckleberry Sauce
Le Medaillon de Chevreuil Saute aux Baies de Sureau Sauvages

Selection of Small Dometic Farmers' Cheeses
L'Assortiment de Fromages d'ici et d'ailleurs

A little taste Before Dessert
Le Pre-Dessert

Caramel Cranberry Tart, Sauteed Apples, Cranberry Jelly
La Tartelette au Caramel et Airelles et sa Gelee

$89.00 per person
Minimum of Two

Sounds mighty tasty to me....