If you’re a big fan of Michael Jordan’s restaurant, you’re not likely to switch allegiances to one sixtyblue, the new West Sider in which His Airness is a silent partner.
But if your tastes run to, say, the sort of elegant, contemporary American cooking that is the trademark of such restaurants as Spruce (to which one sixtyblue is somewhat similar), put on something dressy and head over.
It’s not that easy to find. The address is 160 N. Loomis St., but nobody knows where that is. Best bet is to head west on Randolph Street; shortly before you reach Ogden Avenue, you’ll see a large, beige building with a basketball etched into its stone facade.
This is not one sixtyblue. This is Hoops The Gym, a place with basketball courts that are rented by the hour (not a great name, incidentally; I’d call it Hoops — There It Is). A lot of people come in here looking for “Michael’s restaurant,” and they’re pointed to the building next door — a squat, squarish structure that used to be a pickle factory and that would be completely nondescript except for its cobalt blue walls, from which the restaurant derives part of its name (the partners in Michael Jordan’s Restaurant threatened legal action if the restaurant’s name contained any MJ reference).
There’s no hint of Jordan on the inside, either. Instead, there is a remarkable dining room by Adam Tihany, a tres-hot designer whose credentials include Spago in Chicago, the King David Hotel in Jerusalem and Bice restaurants just about everywhere.
The decor cunningly balances the permanent with the here and now. Ceilings stretch heavenward, soaring in the manner of a certain silent partner. Recessed ceiling cutouts and free-standing light boxes glow from hidden lightbulbs; wavy, flying-carpet fixtures add more diffused light. Large wood pillars give the room a sense of strength.
The restaurant seats 155 in extravagant comfort, with leather-seat chairs, Egyptian-cotton tablecloths and Christofle flatware. Clever touches give the spacious room an intimate feel: Instead of butting up against the walls, booths are pulled in toward the center of the room. Along the exterior walls, which are clad top to bottom with sheets of back-painted glass, are a series of two-seat tables. The best tables, in the center of the room, afford views of the two-story, glassed-in wine room, the display kitchen and a stunning private dining room.
Patrick Robertson’s food has plenty of visual flash as well and follows through with delicious, clean flavors. His peekytoe crab sandwich is fast becoming a signature appetizer, the sweet meat layered with wafer-thin slices of potato and dressed with a citrus reduction and a touch of beet juice. Beets play a more prominent role in a pave of beet and goat cheese, three towers of creamy cheese alternating with disks of slow-roasted beet.
A ceviche of snapper and shrimp arrives tucked into a tepee of thinly cut jicama, a door at the base giving diners a peek at the goodies inside. And a seasonal special of white asparagus, cut in half lengthwise, is stacked like Lincoln Logs (an Illinois homage?), forming a fort containing some fresh greens and surrounded by a coarse and creamy crab-infused vinaigrette.
Robertson has a deft touch with fish. The intriguingly named salmon leaf is a long, thin-sliced piece of grilled salmon whose rich, briny flavors are countered by a sweet compote of crushed cucumber, walnuts and dates. Striped bass gets a Provencal touch, smeared with an olive tapenade and served over a buttery herb broth containing artichoke, fennel, roasted tomatoes and delicate clams.
Though it lacks any element of surprise, veal loin is also excellent, matched to roasted fingerling potatoes and served with four tiny dollops of flavor-packed wild mushroom puree.
Pastry chef Martha Hartley’s desserts are memorable for their minimal sweetness and pure flavors, as seen in a cylindrical hazelnut cake perched above a base of cooked pears. More classically, there is creme brulee, the creme rich and liquidy, and the perfect brulee topping decorated with candied orange peel and two crunchy biscotti.
Hartley has a fondness for fresh berries, as well, layering them in a mille feuille with crispy phyllo squares and dabs of pastry cream or loading them into a crispy cookie cup (the latter a mere accompaniment to an earthy chocolate souffle with a molten center).
You may opt instead for a cheese course; there are about 11 impressive cheeses to choose among, and a nice selection of ports.
Though one sixtyblue is only two months old, service is at a very high level already. Waiters seem to know everything and overlook nothing. Assistants are quick to present a tray of baguettes and chapeau rolls for your selection; busboys take refilling water glasses — first loading the glass with ice, then making a separate trip to add water — to the level of religious ceremony.
The thoughtful wine list has nice range and very fair prices, though there are few by-the-glass offerings.
Apart from the obnoxiously cute menu headings — “two begin,” “four dinner” — there’s not much I dislike about this place.
———-
one sixtyblue
(star) (star) (star)
160 N. Loomis St.
312-850-0303
Open: Dinner Mon.-Sat.
Entree prices: $17.50-$27
Credit cards: A, DC, M, V
Reservations: Strongly recommended
Other: Wheelchair accessible; valet parking available
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.
