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Don't fear haute cuisine; embrace it with our story of the everywoman's experience at Charlie Trotter's, one of America's top restaurants.

Wednesday Mar 03, 2004.     By Jacqueline Ostrowski

Food Feed

How to explain my reaction when I discovered my Christmas gift from my (very generous) aunt and uncle was dinner at Charlie Trotter's? In my excitement, I also felt a flip of unease in my stomach. Would I like everything I tried, no matter how unfamiliar? (Yes.) Was I going to eat caviar? (Yes.) Would it be served by unsmilingly snobbish waitstaff? (Thankfully, no.)

Unless you’re a foodie (which I am not), menu items are daunting at the four-star restaurant. My party of three arrived in a slightly anxious state of mind, like uneasy students on the day of the exam. We’d given the online menu a quick examination, but we hadn’t taken the time to figure out exactly what squab was. Were we doomed as four-star diners?

Considered one of the top dining experiences in the nation, the Charlie Trotter’s evening is an event of considerable magnitude, as the reservationist, with a British accent, natch, explained on the phone. Not only are reservations required, but if you don’t confirm by noon on the day of your seating, you will lose yours.

You wouldn’t want to do that, since a table here is among Chicago’s most highly coveted. It can take up to 12 weeks to secure a Saturday night seating at Trotter’s. Once you arrive, prepare for an Oscar-length ceremony, with just as much spectacle. Dinner lasts nearly three hours and consists of eight courses, culminating in an impressive, almost excessive, array of desserts. But don’t worry about your aching back: ladies are seated along the banquettes, which come equipped with plenty of pillows for support.

Regarding our earlier fears, I needn’t have worried. Though I’m sure plenty of our fellow diners were well-versed in this alternate universe where fennel-infused sweetbreads precede squab, we were unapologetically ill-informed. Our server fielded all of our comments, from the mundane inquiry as to what squab is (a baby pigeon) to the shocked exclamation: “Is that olive oil you’re putting on my pineapple sorbet?” The staff was remarkably down-to-earth, without the slightest note of condescension.

Speaking of service, it’s impeccable without being overbearing. Bread magically appeared on our plates before we even realized we wanted another bite. Platters of passion fruit souffle seemed to float to a rest in front of us. Though they make it appear natural, the orchestrated movements of the servers belie what must be an intense behind-the-scenes effort to create as efficient a dining experience as possible. Each course is presented with perfect precision. For our party of three, three servers descended upon the table in a display of synchronized serving, so we all received each course at exactly the same moment.

A tasting of the Grand Menu at Trotter’s guarantees that your palate will be delighted, shocked, stimulated, provoked, stung, soothed, and aroused, often all in one bite. From the first course, yellowtail infused with stinging nettles, to the last, a multitude of custards, souffles, miniature cakes, and mignardises (candies), we marveled at the astonishing combinations of flavor. Each course spurred new questions. Who would have thought to blend pomegranate and cardamom, and then throw in some yellowfoot mushrooms to boot? Who would have known that warm organic egg sandwiched between cold smoked sturgeon and caviar would meld to form tiny morsels of perfection?

The answer, of course, was always the same: Charlie Trotter, the poli-sci grad turned world-renowned chef. We learned that bit of Trotter trivia from none other than Charlie’s mother, who greeted us at our table as we tucked into the last of our egg custard and invited us on a kitchen tour with a few other diners. It was a fitting end to an extraordinary evening in dining.

For most, the $130 price tag ($100 for the vegetarian menu) is restrictive enough to guarantee that dinner at Charlie Trotter’s will be a once-in-a-lifetime experience. But if you truly love food and you get the opportunity, seize it. It’s truly dining at its finest, down to the last mignardise.

If Relatives are Footing the Bill:

When money’s no object, why not try a four-star spot? If you’re not the type to monitor restaurant ratings – and you like French food – rely on our suggestions for a posh evening with the family.

Spiaggia
This is Italian at its finest, from light-as-air gnocchi to pungently-flavored salads. Did your parents cancel last-minute? Then head next door to the more affordable, still delicious Café Spiaggia instead.

Ambria
Head to the lobby of the Belden-Stratford hotel, where Ambria offers unapologetically French fare in a headily romantic setting.

Everest
The French food is among the best around – plus, you might be distracted from your elegant meal by one of the best views in Chicago, forty floors up. Especially popular with business types.

Tru
Not feeling distinguished enough? Solution: Indulge in the Caviar Staircase, one of dozens of selections on Tru’s prix fixe menu. Go for the beluga ($70) or all-black caviar ($150) if you really feel like splurging.