The kids wanted to meet for brunch at North Pond on Sunday.
Which itself is parking the ball onto Waveland Avenue, parenting-wise. Really, if your grown children, having successfully launched and escaped the paternal clutches, nevertheless regularly circle back and say, "Hey old people — are you free?" that's snagging the brass ring.
As if we weren't buoyed enough just by the invite, walking into the lovely little Lincoln Park restaurant at 2610 N. Cannon Drive, with its gorgeous Arts and Craft interior, drove us to maximum good spirits. The hosts are excellent at welcoming — a lot of places fall down on this. Smiles, warmth, and took our coats.
The place is so well-constructed you can be forgiven for assuming you're enjoying quality from an earlier age. Actually, though it was built in 1912 as a shelter for skaters on the pond and was nothing fancy. It went through a variety of incarnations — it was a hot dog stand for most of the time we lived three blocks to the northwest, before North Pond Cafe opened in 1998. It has to be the only restaurant to win a Michelin star that was once a homeless shelter. (The star has since been snatched back; but such glory, once conferred, lingers).
True, my wife and I bobbled the first challenge. Our server set down a "Hot Chocolate Menu" which the savvy dinner would have taken as a tip from the cosmos to order the hot chocolate. We did discuss it. But I've got that diabetes thing, and my wife has that preserving her girlish figure thing, so we opted for coffee. Though I presciently mentioned during our pre-ordering analysis that higher end restaurants which nail every other aspect of the dining experience often botch the coffee part for reasons I do not understood. My theory is, in their frantic quest for excellence, fancy eateries forget to clean the coffeemakers regularly. My wife believes they opt for chi-chi coffee that is acidic.
Anyway, the coffee arrived. I sipped, then silently dosed mine with cream, the international signal that the coffee is no good. My sharp-eyed wife noticed. Meanwhile, my daughter-in-law's hot chocolate arrived and she raved about it. I thought of quietly dipping into hers a spoon to try it, but she's new to the family, and that seemed, oh I don't know, an over-familiarity.
Then I did an uncharacteristic thing. The next time the waiter swept past, I handed him my nearly full cup, said the coffee wasn't to my liking, and asked for a cup of cocoa. Typically, I wouldn't send a bowl of grease from the drip pan back if a place served it to me. But fortune favors the bold. And that hot chocolate looked so good.
Tumeric is the It Girl spice of the moment — our older son had been singing its praises recently. A relative of ginger, it is a deep golden orange. The accompaniments struck me as a tad greasy, but the meat was dense and satisfying.
The Chocolate Cake was no wedge of standard birthday, but "Lapsang Souchong, Raspberry Curds, Sunflower Seed Crumble, Madagascar Vanilla Gelato." I looked up that first term (if I'm spending sixty bucks on brunch I want to know what I'm getting and getting into) and took away that it is a kind of tea.
I like tea. But in this case, the cake was a reminder of the perils of insufficient research, because I didn't focus on the Lapsang Souchong definition long enough to grasp the "it's by far one of the boldest, smokiest teas out there." Truly,
Lapsang Souchong is the Laphroaig scotch of teas, and while smoky tea chocolate cake might be an acquired taste, it is not a taste acquired on the first attempt, at least not for me, a judgment my wife confirmed. I mean, I ate it. But my wife's carrot cake was superior, a reminder that one should always, always order the carrot dish.
Brunch was a case of the whole being greater than the sum of its parts. The kids adore North Pond — they've eaten there before — and for me, the setting and the service helped pull the food, which honestly I wasn't in love with, over the finish line. I enjoyed the experience sufficiently that I'd go back, if only for the joy of complaining about that comma. Plus the entire staff was truly first rate — the waiter didn't charge us for the misfire coffees, which is only smart service, but not a bar that every restaurant can clear. There was no unsettling 3 percent "because we can" fee. The place was surprisingly uncrowded for 12 noon on a Sunday, another sign recession is sinking in.
Afterward, we walked to the Lincoln Park Zoo and ... well, we'll visit the zoo here on Thursday.
Reminder: I will be one of the speakers at Chicago Fights Back, "An Evening of Stories, Poetry, History, and Music — focused on Chicago, on change, and on resilience." Wednesday, May 7 at 7 p.m. at the Hideout, 1354 West Wabansia. Raising funds for groups benefiting the homeless and the hungry that are impacted by cuts to the federal government. And yeah, it's a little discordant to mention this after a twee skip through a fancy restaurant. But time is running out — it's tomorrow — and one of my few writing rules is, Be Who You Are, and in addition to being a guy who meets his kid for an expensive brunch, I'm also someone who'll figure out some kind of presentation and drag myself to a gritty bar to help people I've never met. And if you are too, maybe I'll see you there. For more information, click here.
True, my wife and I bobbled the first challenge. Our server set down a "Hot Chocolate Menu" which the savvy dinner would have taken as a tip from the cosmos to order the hot chocolate. We did discuss it. But I've got that diabetes thing, and my wife has that preserving her girlish figure thing, so we opted for coffee. Though I presciently mentioned during our pre-ordering analysis that higher end restaurants which nail every other aspect of the dining experience often botch the coffee part for reasons I do not understood. My theory is, in their frantic quest for excellence, fancy eateries forget to clean the coffeemakers regularly. My wife believes they opt for chi-chi coffee that is acidic.
Anyway, the coffee arrived. I sipped, then silently dosed mine with cream, the international signal that the coffee is no good. My sharp-eyed wife noticed. Meanwhile, my daughter-in-law's hot chocolate arrived and she raved about it. I thought of quietly dipping into hers a spoon to try it, but she's new to the family, and that seemed, oh I don't know, an over-familiarity.
Then I did an uncharacteristic thing. The next time the waiter swept past, I handed him my nearly full cup, said the coffee wasn't to my liking, and asked for a cup of cocoa. Typically, I wouldn't send a bowl of grease from the drip pan back if a place served it to me. But fortune favors the bold. And that hot chocolate looked so good.
My wife did the same. It was worth the effort. Not too sweet, with all sorts of intriguing flavor hints including, another server tipped us off to, lime chantilly.
Brunch is $59, and under any other circumstances than meeting our beloved son and D.I.L., that itself would have been a dealbreaker for my wife and, honestly, it almost was. She was inclined to suggest something more budget friendly. But I disagreed, observing that we had talked about going to New Orleans, but didn't. So this meal was far cheaper than buying a praline at a candy shop in the French quarter, if you figure in the flight and hotel. And mirabile dictu, that argument carried the day. Plus we could consider it an early Mother's Day Brunch, that being a holiday, like Valentine's, when the savvy restaurant goer dines at home.
North Pond brunch is three courses, and I opted for the Tart Tatin, as appetizer, the "Beef, Pastry" for the main course, and Chocolate Cake for dessert.
I stepped away to spread the insulin welcome mat for that feast, then had to take a phone call from the paper. During my absence, an unexpected trio of breads arrived — quite quaint and pretty, with jam and a pair of interesting butters.
The tart is described as "Honeyed Carrots, Goat Cheese Ricotta, 'Pop Tart' Dough, Arugula Salad, Lardons" — that last ingredient being a term I wasn't familiar with. It means cubes of fatty bacon, and I did enjoy picking those out. The salad was a tad wet, but welcome. I'm a big carrot fan — I don't think I've mentioned it before. Truly, Bugs Bunny level. I order just about anything made of carrots, did so here, and didn't regret it.
The Beef, Pastry — no, that comma is not a typo — is described as "Turmeric Pastry Wrapped Grilled Striploin, Sweet Potato Purée, Root Vegetable Pavé, Sherry Jus."
I wish I had thought to complain about that comma between Beef and Pastry; it would have been the height of the meal. "Waiter — there's a comma in my Beef, Pastry." The sort of thing that enters into Steinberg lore, the way I once ordered the Happy Family plate at Szechuan Kingdom, and met the raised eyebrows — I always get beef and broccoli — with, "I've sampled the 'Happy Family' at every Chinese restaurant I've been to. To compare them. And do you know what I've found?" They gazed at me, puzzled. "All happy families are alike..." I said.
 |
| The cuts in the corn bread were my doing. |
North Pond brunch is three courses, and I opted for the Tart Tatin, as appetizer, the "Beef, Pastry" for the main course, and Chocolate Cake for dessert.
I stepped away to spread the insulin welcome mat for that feast, then had to take a phone call from the paper. During my absence, an unexpected trio of breads arrived — quite quaint and pretty, with jam and a pair of interesting butters.
 |
| It's hard to find a good tart, but this was. |
The Beef, Pastry — no, that comma is not a typo — is described as "Turmeric Pastry Wrapped Grilled Striploin, Sweet Potato Purée, Root Vegetable Pavé, Sherry Jus."
I wish I had thought to complain about that comma between Beef and Pastry; it would have been the height of the meal. "Waiter — there's a comma in my Beef, Pastry." The sort of thing that enters into Steinberg lore, the way I once ordered the Happy Family plate at Szechuan Kingdom, and met the raised eyebrows — I always get beef and broccoli — with, "I've sampled the 'Happy Family' at every Chinese restaurant I've been to. To compare them. And do you know what I've found?" They gazed at me, puzzled. "All happy families are alike..." I said.
 |
| Beef, Pastry worked, despite the comma. |
The Chocolate Cake was no wedge of standard birthday, but "Lapsang Souchong, Raspberry Curds, Sunflower Seed Crumble, Madagascar Vanilla Gelato." I looked up that first term (if I'm spending sixty bucks on brunch I want to know what I'm getting and getting into) and took away that it is a kind of tea.
I like tea. But in this case, the cake was a reminder of the perils of insufficient research, because I didn't focus on the Lapsang Souchong definition long enough to grasp the "it's by far one of the boldest, smokiest teas out there." Truly,
 |
| The Laphroaig of cakes. |
Brunch was a case of the whole being greater than the sum of its parts. The kids adore North Pond — they've eaten there before — and for me, the setting and the service helped pull the food, which honestly I wasn't in love with, over the finish line. I enjoyed the experience sufficiently that I'd go back, if only for the joy of complaining about that comma. Plus the entire staff was truly first rate — the waiter didn't charge us for the misfire coffees, which is only smart service, but not a bar that every restaurant can clear. There was no unsettling 3 percent "because we can" fee. The place was surprisingly uncrowded for 12 noon on a Sunday, another sign recession is sinking in.
Afterward, we walked to the Lincoln Park Zoo and ... well, we'll visit the zoo here on Thursday.
You talked about going to New Orleans, but didn't? Just do it. Even with the flight and hotel, it's so worth it. The food, the music, the architecture, the street life, the streetcars, the vast and amazing WWII Museum. Just go, Mr. S. Life is short.
ReplyDeleteBut do it very soon, or wait until autumn! Unless you enjoy the feeling of being draped in a wet blanket.
DeleteI have to agree with Grizz. Not that I've ever enjoyed the delights he describes, but I once shared office space with an attorney whose secretary visited New Orleans at least once yearly and often on Mardi Gras. She was morbidly obese before I'd ever heard the term, such that she couldn't even go shopping without a wheelchair. Her daughter was her virtual clone and her husband also suffered various ailments. Yet, they never let an opportunity go by to travel to the airport and negotiate the obstacles there to visit New Orleans. It must have been an ordeal similar to running the gauntlet. I doubt their motive was any of those Grizz listed. It couldn't have been the cuisine judging from overheard telephone conversations in which dinner plans seemed limited to what kind and how many hot dogs to cook. I guess it was the ineffable ambiance of the place. I look forward to the day that our worthy proprietor succumbs to the attraction and puts it into words for us.
Deletejohn
We've been to New Orleans a few times, but not lately. We do want to see that WWII museum. It's certainly on our list for a return.
DeleteIt's mind-blowing, Mr. S. If you want to see everything, and you probably will, allow two days for the whole megillah. Since I've been into WWII for more than six decades, we were there for a total of 14 hours. My wife has worked at museums. She was very impressed.
DeleteYou get a discount if you return for a second day, and paying extra for the short film by Tom Hanks is worth every penny. Even the nearby high school kids put down their phones and were mesmerized into absolute silence. During his Battle of the Bulge sequence, cold blasts of air and snow falling from the ceiling make you feel like you're there.
And then there are the exhibits---the 1940s American kitchen, and the ruined streets of Europe. The Pacific jungles you get to walk through and hear and smell. The optional Holocaust section. And, of course, D-Day. But no more spoilers. Go see it.
Not a foodie, and not ready, willing, or able to drop three Jacksons on brunch. More of a diner guy. Have previously posted several EGD diatribes about upscale dining, so will not go there again. Suffice it to say that nearly all of those "eateries" are not my cup of Lapsang Souchong.
Have had that Chinese tea, though. It's an acquired taste. I'm just an Ordinary Joe with simple tastes, who prefers a nice hot cup of Constant
Comment. Black tea with orange rind and spice. The kind you can buy at the nearest Jewel.
Grizz, I can honestly say that prior to today, I'd never seen anyone use the phrase "The optional Holocaust section," and probably never will again. (I do understand your meaning...)
DeleteSo you're saying "Grizz, you got some explaining to do." Let me rephrase that. By "optional" I meant the posting of warning notices at the entrance to the Holocaust exhibits, and that one can either choose to enter...or not. But don't say you weren't warned.
DeleteWalls of maps and photographs. No torture devices. No piles of human hair and shoes, both of which gave off distinct odors. No thousand-year-old Jewish towns, eradicated in a single afternoon. No boxcars, or science experiments, or blueprints that explained how the gas chambers and the ovens worked.
Once you've seen all of those things, at the Big Deal on 14th Street (the U.S. Holocaust Museum in Washington), can anything else possibly come close? The D.C. facility is deliberately designed to confuse visitors, and to make them feel lost and helpless, because the Nazis did the same thing.
You get an Ausweis...a German ID card. At the end of your visit, it goes into a slot, and you find out whether or not the person on that card survived. Few do. When you finally stagger outside, into fresh air and sunshine, it feels like you just climbed out of a sewer.
New Orleans? Feh. Bupkis. Could have been a lot more disturbing. They choose to temper the trauma. To avoid or ignore the Holocaust entirely would have been unthinkable and inexcusable. But it was nothing not seen before. Still, they warn you anyway.
Many of my Skokie classmates were the children of Holocaust survivors. Nu, so you want helicopter parents? They were the originals. Their kids were hothouse flowers under glass. More precious than anything on earth. But too many grew up with problems and neuroses of their own.
Couldn't bear to watch Danny Kaye, as a survivor and a father, screaming at his daughter in the 1981 TV-movie about Skokie,, which was shot on location. If anything, they toned him down a few notches. The real deal was often far worse. I saw it.
A few years ago my sister treated us to a weekend in Chicago. I was looking forward to one restaurant which was a place beyond anything I could afford. I can't recall the name, but it's directly across from the orange man's tower. I was so disappointed. An $18 drink in a plastic cup and a very meager meal which tasted like sawdust. I was thrilled when we went to The Cheesecake Factory and had roasted brussel sprouts. Yum.
ReplyDeletesounds delish-at those prices we'll have to live vicariously through you
ReplyDeleteWhen restaurant offerings strive to be different than the usual fare it can often be a bust. Sounds like you hit several busts. Thanks for the review. Another high priced restaurant to avoid.
ReplyDeleteI dont know if you've had the experience yet. One of my sons for no particular reason took me out to dinner the other night, nothing special a little Italian place on Taylor st. then payed!
ReplyDeleteGot to say i liked that
I think we're inching toward that. My daughter-in-law did push the bill in my son's direction, but I already had my credit card out, so we split it. Next time I'm going to try to sit on my hands and see what happens.
DeleteI once pushed the bill towards my husband after we had dinner with his parents on returning from our honeymoon. No, said my father in law. “Money should flow one way in a family. Down. If it needs to flow up, something has gone sadly wrong.” He also said that in his profession, an estate lawyer, he saw the difference in families where the parents were able to create generational wealth by refusing their children’s money and those where they did not.
DeleteAm I the only one starting to deeply resent menus, every one of whose entries includes a term or ingredient that has to be googled? What’s wrong with saying “bacon cubes” or even “pork belly cubes”?
ReplyDeleteThis is a peeve of mine: Restaurants that expect you to know what's meant by unfamiliar names of foods. I suppose it varies widely what's familiar and unfamiliar to people and dumbing down a menu too much would give it a 24-hour-diner feel. But when I see Gremolata, Rémoulade, Pavlova, Romesco, A la plancha, Patatas bravas, Shiso, Okonomiyaki and so on, I feel like I just fell of the turnip truck (a turnip is a root vegetable known for its edible, white or purple-topped roots and leafy greens)
DeleteI used to agree with you. But now i realize how important it is to never stop learning.
DeleteThere is something magical about this post.
ReplyDeleteWriting from a past time. The pairing of images. perhaps it is just our planets current relationship with Mercury.
The post read like i was turning the pages of the paper. I enjoyed it.
Thank you
High praise indeed. You're welcome.
DeleteWe ate at North Pond years ago but I don't remember anything about the food or price, just the area and the views. Give me the Cheesecake Factory anytime!
ReplyDeleteAm I the only one so far who will comment on the “quality “ of most coffee in today’s market? I have got to the point other than Dunkin Donuts and maybe if I ever find myself in a chain or local diner that I have given up on coffee. It is bitter. Not enough cream and sugar in the room to make it drinkable. Even places that once had decent coffee have like McDonalds have gone the burnt taste route. I think the whole Starbucks era has brought this on as they have trained folks to expect “robust “ flavor. Or maybe I am just a candy ass. But I don’t like it.
ReplyDeleteCoffee is a tricky business and most places don't want to spend the time or money on it. But the pandemic ruined me. I learned about coffee. I learned about what i liked. And now I can taste and enjoy coffee. But most of the time I can identify how little I like a cup and how poorly its been brewed. I can't even go to Starbucks anymore (though i'm not sure that's saying much. I refuse to go there now because they are union busters).
Deletemost beans you can get are too dark for me. give me a complex light or medium roast *chef's kiss*. otherwise, i'll drown it in creamer, milk, or milk alternatives.
Nice to see North Pond restaurant and site featured. Don't know if its still the case, but the restaurant used to maintain a strictly seasonal menu and locally source its produce. I worked for a while at a Thresholds location on Lakeview, just NW of North Pond. I had to arrive very early to find parking, but then got to do a lot of birding around the pond as a trade-off. During Spring and Fall migration, there is a well-known (at least to birders) organized bird walk that is welcoming to birders of all skill levels. If anyone's interested in that, here's a link with more info: https://geoffwilliamson.info/northpond/
ReplyDeleteUnlike yesterday, I knew right off the bat where and why the swell photo atop the blog was taken this time. 😉
ReplyDeleteWe've been to North Pond for brunch, years ago. Once. We haven't returned, for several of the reasons laid out here. Every time I go by there, I wish it was a place I wanted to go back to, but the ambiance and location just aren't enough to warrant the $59 price for food that seems to be more, shall we say, interesting than enjoyable.
A very rare piece in which I was familiar with two terms that you evidently were not. We've had lardons a number of times -- once I learned what they were, I was certainly happy to encounter them again, though "cubes of fatty bacon" are not part of my daily diet!
Then, Lapsang Souchong. We drink tea and currently have about a dozen choices on hand. I like to sample different kinds, but one run-in with that smoky concoction was more than enough for me to remember not to get it again. Since you'd ordered from the "Hot Chocolate Menu" already and then mentioned your fondness for carrots, it seems that going for "The Laphroaig of cakes" rather than the carrot cake was a bit of a misfire, indeed.
The “happy family“ dad joke was *chef’s kiss*, got a genuine chuckle out of me!
ReplyDeleteI have to admit that I regard this kind of fine dining as being somewhat similar to viewing modern art: there is a lot of ooohing and ahhhing involved from folks who appreciate this kind of thing, but in the end I just don't see any of it as being a real meal (artistically or otherwise).
ReplyDeleteI do appreciate a well-made meal, but part of my expectation is that it should look appetizing when first presented, and also perhaps be recognizable as to what it is, but these examples just left me unmoved. (Plus, and this is not directed at North Pond alone, but what's with the habit of serving these creations on wildly oversized dinnerware, so that the actual food seems marooned in the middle of an ocean of plate?)
I think it is less a case of oversized dinnerware, but rather undersized servings..
DeleteYou still need to try Paris Baguette on Milwaukee and Central in Glenview. You will be very surprised.
ReplyDeletepurchase a couple tickets for tomorrow nite .
ReplyDeleteI assume you are using a smart phone to take the pictures at the top of the page. You have a good eye
ReplyDeleteI am going to sound like a reverse snob here, but thank you for that description of dining at North Pond. I have often wondered, because the place looks so appealing. But my tastes in cuisine are far too pedestrian and I would be miserable paying $118 plus beverages and tip for my wife and me to only be confonted with food I think we both would find too weird for our tastes (except perhaps for the carrot cake). My wife and I enjoy dining out, but our tastes are middle-brow at best. But one question, if I may... do they use milk or water to make their hot chocolate? If it's milk, it might be worth stopping by for at least a hot chocolate one cool evening. My wife abhors hot chocolate made with water. Me, I'm not so picky, diabetes be damned.
ReplyDelete