I foresee trouble for Blackbird, the splendid new restaurant on the rapidly developing Randolph Street restaurant corridor west of the Loop.
The West Loop spot has caught on in a big way with the young moneyed set, who drop off expensive cars with the valet before turning the dining room into a sea of expensive and mostly black clothing.
Alas, the food at Blackbird is extremely good, at times wonderful, which means serious foodies will clamor for reservations as well. Blackbird has just 58 seats. This could get ugly.
The chef and partner is Paul Kahan, who was sous chef for Rick Bayless at Topolobampo and chef de cuisine for Erwin Drechsler at erwin (he also cooked at Drechsler’s previous restaurants, the lamented Metropolis Cafe and Metropolis 1800). Like his mentors, Kahan brings to the kitchen a passion for pristine produce and a distaste for overly fussy preparations — though there’s a depth to his flavors that makes the term “simple cooking” almost disingenuous.
Dinners begin with a complimentary nibble — perhaps a slice of buckwheat crepe rolled around some smoked trout, with creme fraiche and a bit of caviar; or a cucumber slice topped with a halibut-jalapeno ceviche; or a curried carrot fritter. Further staving hunger pangs are slices of good bread, delivered with a ramekin of garlic-herb butter.
Winning appetizers include cornmeal-dusted scallop (two hefty scallops or one monstrous one), drizzled with a buttery shellfish stock and surrounded by orange segments and pieces of fennel root, along with greens and red onion dressed with an orange-pernod vinaigrette.
Kahan’s philosophy of purity is brought to life in a pristine ahi tuna tartare, the tuna dressed sparingly with a homemade mayonnaise containing a hint of chile vinegar. Each complementary ingredient makes the barest of contributions, allowing the tuna’s clean flavor to shine through.
The charcuterie plate is a pleasant thing, containing a coarse country pate studded with prunes and a whisper of cognac, two full-flavored duck sausages with pistachios and a mustardy fingerling potato salad.
House-cured duck prosciutto, surprisingly moist and a touch fatty, is the star of a salad that includes a base of grilled pear slices, a hill of Asian greens and dabs of Maytag bleu cheese.
Curry-scented corn chowder is delightful, containing pieces of Maine lobster and crunchy bits of diced Granny Smith apples. The fish soup, a fine, briny saffron broth filled with plump, wood-grilled shrimp, mussels and new potatoes, makes a satisfying starter; the lunchtime bouillabaisse entree is a variation of the same dish, infused with fennel and fleshed out with firm halibut and some very good clams in addition to the mussels and shrimp.
The pot-au-feu on the menu is a misnomer; the dish contains meat (sometimes guinea hen, more often Amish chicken) and vegetables with a braising liquid, but the ingredients are not cooked together. But what is lacking in strict authenticity is made up with textural interest: firm and sweet English peas, soft fingerling potatoes and dried porcini mushrooms along with braised thigh and grilled breast meat.
Beautifully tender venison medallions are supported by a luscious red-wine sauce with coriander seed and currants. I liked the lamb combination, a roasted chop and seared loin with a nectarine chutney, but the preparation has changed to a straight rack of lamb served with sharp-tasting dandelion greens modulated by mission figs.
Lunch service began just 10 days ago, and already the dining room is regularly filling up. Menu highlights include a wonderful salad of grilled chicken breast, chilled asparagus and baby beets, and a nicoise salad with grilled ahi tuna, baby arugula, sweet roasted peppers, haricots verts and an olive vinaigrette.
Pastry chef Sheira Harris’ desserts are not to be missed. Bittersweet chocolate cake is a rich indulgence, paired with orange ice cream and a few strips of candied orange peel. A smallish lemon chevre cheesecake, topped with an explosion of crispy phyllo ribbons, is a visual and textural delight, as is a beggar’s purse filled with red-wine-poached pear and lemon curd.
Service is attentive — it could scarcely be otherwise; the entire dining room, bar and host stand included, spans about 50 feet — and very knowledgeable. Food is expedited promptly (everything arrives hot, thank you very much) but the kitchen pace is unrushed.
The single-sheet wine list may not be deep, but it’s filled with interesting bottles. There’s also a reserve list, of about 10 or so noteworthy wines in limited supply; for that, they break out the Riedel.
The only thing that Blackbird lacks is space. Tables are packed tightly together, and if the people next to you are obnoxious, it could be a long evening. Blackbird also could use a more stringent cellular-phone policy; I witnessed one loathesome couple passing a cellular phone back and forth to conduct a three-way conversation during dinner service. Killing such people should be punishable by a $50 fine.
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Blackbird
(star) (star) (star)
619 W. Randolph St.
312-715-0708
Open: Dinner Mon.-Sat., lunch Mon.-Fri.
Entree prices: $14-$24
Credit cards: A, DC, DS, M, V
Reservations: Strongly recommended
Other: Wheelchair accessible; Smoking in bar area only
Rating system
(star) (star) (star) (star) Outstanding
(star) (star) (star) Excellent
(star) (star) Very Good
(star) Good
Satisfactory
Unsatisfactory
Reviews are based on no fewer than two visits. The reviewer makes every effort to remain anonymous. Meals are paid for by the Tribune.
