By all means, cheer for Derrick Rose as he and the Chicago Bulls chase an NBA title. But don’t overlook another superstar, down the road from the United Center, who is at the top of his game.
On Wednesday, restaurateur Grant Achatz opened Next, and the buzz has been off the charts, even for a city with many celebrated chefs. The restaurant sells non-refundable tickets for admission, and now those spots are being resold on Craigslist for $600 each.
Achatz’s concept is audacious: creating a culinary experience faithful to ever-changing places and moments in time. His first attempt is Paris in 1906. That means dusting off recipes from 100-year-old cookbooks and scouring antique shops for flatware from the period.
Time magazine called Achatz “the country’s greatest 21st century chef.” The New York Times says he is a “modern Michelangelo.” His original locale, Alinea, recently earned a restaurant’s highest honor: three Michelin stars.
Yes, we too have had our fill of “foodies,” using cellphones to eagerly share photographs of the duck confit they’re about to dig into. Yes, we too are tempted to tell them, “Just eat your dinner.” And yes, it might seem frivolous for anyone to celebrate gourmet dining in a world plagued by so many serious problems. Then again, paying respect to those who raise food preparation to an art form is a diversion as harmless as following the box scores or marveling at fashion ads.
And, in a way, Achatz’s achievements are about all of us. Maybe you didn’t know a power play from a pizza pie, but you probably stood taller when the Blackhawks won hockey’s Stanley Cup last year. It can be inspiring and invigorating to see someone at his or her best, exhibiting qualities we’d love to emulate. Perseverance, creativity, excellence. Put the name “Chicago” on a stellar performer’s jersey and it’s our glory too.
Achatz can’t steamroll a Vikings running back, but he took on Stage 4 tongue cancer (an especially cruel diagnosis for a chef) with toughness in spades. What’s more, Achatz does not dye his hair pink, but only a truly gutsy iconoclast would blow up his menu every three months.
So if you root for the Sox and the Cubs and the Bears, root for Achatz. Not because you care whether his bank account is healthy. Not because you want to compete with New York. And not because you care about whether his foie gras is any good, or want to spend your money to find out.
Root for him because we should root for Chicagoans with a single-minded pursuit of greatness.
When that plate reaches the table at Next, it is as thrilling as Michael Jordan in full flight.
