so on sunday night we cabbed it down western and got off near the united center. we were late, of course, and to top it off my stomach was tied up in knots. i'm sitting in the back seat, trying to blow it off to alicia that it's okay if the thing started without us, that we'd get there and it'd kick ass regardless. but what did i really know? in my head i'm going over the few facts i have about the dinner and figure it'll have to be served banquet style. long picnic tables and the grill going somewhere off to the side. well shit, because if i'm right, and everyone's sitting down and stephanie's giving some toast and we're the idiots who break it up when we walk in late, then what?
alicia said the next day that there was a serious angel watching over us, because it turned out i couldnt've been more wrong:

this is just one of the two yards that served as a modest set up, so laid back and chill, for such a highly anticipated event. there's a beer bar on the deck. a wine bar in back. there're high tops for schmoozing and tikis burning in the bushes. and right up front, in the foreground of the pic above, are bravo's starlets, lee ann and stephanie, plating two of the six plates, at one of the three stations, of the night. they're not hiding. theye're not schmoozing in sparkling white coats, nodding approvingly as food is passed around. they're working the station, hours and hours of prep obvious from the kitchen smells of rendered fat and charcoal and the stains of ass kicking on their tee shirts, their arms lifting to beat the sweat from their foreheads, out in the open for anyone and everyone to see. when you're a high profile chef, from a tv show with as big a following as top chef, and you open yourself to the public in the intimate confines of a person's house, anything can happen. any freakish, obsessive fan could've shown up that night. and if this worried stephanie, she didn't show it. i just don't think it's her style.

it's all about the beer on the line. and here's the food:

bbq pork shoulder on a biscuit with apple slaw. and yeah, that's a buttermilk biscuit.






though we knew nobody going in, we attached ourselves to three new friends (and shared a drunken and crammed cab ride home later on) as soon as we had drinks in our hands. and the true highlight of the night, and she left the impression it meant as much to her as it did to us, was when stephanie joined our circle, complementing alicia on her blue eyes, and shot the shit with us in what i'm discovering is true midwest style. we talked about hector the mascot donkey turned goat and the smell her cleaning lady would find in her apartment after so many days of prep and the blue shopping cart that's mysteriously hers and she can't wait to pimp out and hit the streets of bucktown with. she filled our beers when they hit bottom and changed conversation before it ever had the chance to get awkward, hanging out with us far longer than the formal hello, how is everything, thanks for coming—and i'm sorry but i won't remember any of this in five minutes—far longer than any of us expected. like her food; like the tee shirts; like the set up; like the new restaurant's name; like the staff and the toe sucking, pants dropping couple that partied on the deck behind us, what you see is what you get. a fun, genuine, humbled person, trying like everyone else to figure things out, and then make it all happen.
huge thanks to emilie for the pictures. it's the food that makes this post worth writing, the writing just a ramble of gibberish without the visuals. and to allen brothers, three floyds, and black dog gelato for supplying the goods.
i left the party—well after its scheduled ending—with a cup of fraises des boises in hand, and as chefy pointed out, its juice on my sweater. it was an idyllic summer night and if the party at all reflected true chicago style, moving here was exactly the right thing for us to do.
Hooray! This post makes me happy for many many reasons. :D Keep up the good writing, good eating, and good cooking.
ReplyDeleteWow, makes me feel like I just left there myself. Thanks for the experience. Oh, by the way, WHY were you late, anyway??
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