If the Ritz-Carlton and the Four Seasons are considered the best and third-best hotels in the world, do their respective restaurants also measure up? That is, do The Dining Room and Seasons belong on anyone’s short list of the world’s greatest restaurants?
Considering those questions, while enjoying two extravagant dinners, was my happy task a couple of weeks ago.
I’ve not eaten at many of the world’s top restaurants (the spirit is willing, but the budget is weak), although I did dine at Joel Robuchon’s late, great Jamin (three stars, the maximum, from Guide Michelin) in Paris and Les Trois Marches in Versailles (two stars) a few years ago. And though my meals at The Dining Room and Seasons were excellent, and at times dazzling, I’m not prepared to rank either restaurant among the world’s best.
They are, however, undoubtedly the finest hotel dining rooms in the city. Chicago hotel restaurants are a decidedly mixed bag — some perfunctory, some making a genuine effort — but The Dining Room and Seasons are clearly in a class by themselves.
The Dining Room
The signature restaurant in the Ritz-Carlton bears the deceptively modest name The Dining Room. It may be the only modest thing about the place.
The Dining Room has the feel of a top-rated French restaurant. Under acclaimed chef Sarah Stegner, the menu is more American than it once was — witness her apple degustation menu — but the decor and service effect a distinctly European atmosphere — and not that of a casual Parisien cafe. This is indulgent, budget-be-damned dining.
The unobtrusive lobby entrance opens into a sumptuous foyer that, in turn, leads into a tastefully luxurious dining room. Tables are spaced extravagantly far apart, making the large space seem very intimate. It’s easy for visitors to imagine that they have gained entry to an exclusive club.
A complimentary nibble, which might be a bit of salmon mousse with caramelized onions atop tiny pumpernickel triangles, gets the meal off to a fine start. A la carte highlights include plump ravioli stuffed with braised rabbit, accompanied by a thick medallion of grilled rabbit loin with a tarragon-flecked jus; mousseline-wrapped Atlantic salmon with artichoke confit and spinach; a lovely salad of heirloom tomatoes, arugula and parsalane; and a wonderful dessert souffle with chocolate and raspberry sauces.
Stegner’s apple degustation incorporates organic Wisconsin apples in each of seven courses. Highlights include a silken slice of seared foie gras surrounded by fanned-out slices of four apple varieties; Beluga caviar and smoked sturgeon mousse with apple-cucumber and jicama relish, a delightful contrast of textures; a pair of erotically entwined shrimp served over Maine lobster chunks with crispy apples and celery root; a chilled apple soup; and apple cake with Calvados (apple brandy) ice cream.
The cheese service at The Dining Room comes close to that of the great French restaurants, in which an astonishing number are presented for your selection. (American restaurants, whose clientele are not so reliably fromage-happy, generally make do with a chef-selected assortment.) The Dining Room’s massive cart, however, is laden with a gratifyingly large assortment of cow- and sheep-milk cheese, bleu cheeses and goat cheeses. (I will never forget the cheese selection at Les Trois Marches in Versailles; it took three full carts to bring it to our table.) Five selections later, plus a hefty bunch of delicate champagne grapes, and we pronounced ourselves more than satisfied.
Not surprisingly, the wine list here is no place for bargain-hunters, although the sizable selection of half-bottles gives diners a great deal of flexibility.
The Dining Room, Ritz-Carlton Chicago, 160 E. Pearson St., 312-573-5223. Open for dinner Mon.-Sun., brunch Sun. Entree prices $29-$37. All major credit cards accepted. Wheelchair accessible.
Seasons
If The Dining Room manages to feel like a European dining room, Seasons, the Four Seasons’ fine-dining space, is the Dining Room’s American cousin. Chef Mark Baker is as creative as they come and has a facility for pulling together ingredients from far-flung regions and weaving them into a seamless whole.
Baker’s fondness for his native New England is evident in the menu, but so is his passion for things Asian. There were Pacific-Asian specials prominent on the menu during our visit, and Seasons is one of the few restaurants in town to offer Japanese Kobe beef — it’s a $95 entree, but it is available.
Tempting as it was to try to sneak a $95 sirloin past the Tribune accountants, we opted for more sensible eating. These included lobster- and avocado-filled spring rolls (one of the aforementioned Pacific specials), as well as an enormous grilled prawn laid atop a stew of Maine lobster, sweet corn gnocchi and nuggets of smoked Wisconsin bacon.
Light cooking is an integral part of Baker’s philosophy, so Seasons’ signature Caesar salad is a reduced-calorie version, though with no sacrifice in flavor. Also light on the tongue is the roasted-leek and onion soup, sweetened with a touch of aged Madeira and enriched by a trio of tiny, truffle-filled ravioli.
One of Baker’s globe-trotting entrees matches grilled California squab, New York foie gras and Alsatian cabbage, which offers enjoyable taste and textural contrasts within its flawless ingredients. The herb-roasted Colorado lamb might have been more tender, but there was no gainsaying the excellent flavor, and truffle-scented white-corn grits and a cabernet reduction were fine accompaniments.
The cheese plate, a chef’s selection of five cheeses, was mildly disappointing — pleasant, certainly, but nothing memorable. What will linger in my mind for some time to come is the dessert dubbed the Chocolate Pyramid, a stunning architectural presentation of spongecake and bruleed bananas encased in a chocolate mousse pyramid, with a finial of edible gold leaf.
Like The Dining Room, Seasons doesn’t skimp on the fine-dining niceties. The restaurant, trimmed in rich, polished wood, is filled with beautiful vases bursting with gorgeous floral arrangements. Tables are generously sized, and your nearest neighbor is so far away you can safely discuss state secrets, even though the noise level rarely rises above a hum.
Nor is Seasons, incidentally, any easier on the budget; indeed, after essentially similar meals in both restaurants, I spent slightly more here.
The wine list is deep and thorough, weighted toward American producers. The half-bottle selection is a bit scanty, but the by-the-glass list includes several wonderful selections.
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Seasons, Four Seasons Hotel Chicago, 120 E. Delaware Pl., 312-280-8800. Open for dinner Mon.-Sun., lunch Mon.-Sat., brunch Sun. Entree prices $28-$38. All major credit cards accepted. Wheelchair accessible.
