byDoug Seibold
Seven years ago, in the latter stages of the Bush recession, Chicago Magazine profiled bad-boy chef and restaurateur John Terczak. Part of the piece dealt with Terczak's efforts, while riding high with two popular Mexican restaurants, to raise cash to open a casual French place at Sheffield and Armitage.
He was going to call it La Centrale, and he described it to his brother, fellow chef-star Dennis Terczak, as "a slam-dunk... a little decoration, and Boom - I got a joint, it's open, you know what I'm saying? There's nothing like it around - the checked tablecloth, table deuces, Perrier bottle with a flower, you know what I'm saying?"
John Terczak never opened La Centrale; his other two joints closed and he left Chicago, just as his brother Dennis eventually did a few years before his untimely death last spring. But his dream for a casual French joint was only a few years ahead of the curve. As the economy surged in the mid-nineties, French food - especially casual bistro fare - began a comeback that's turned into our own little French revolution. And what better occasion could there be than Bastille Day, July 14, to take stock of the newest wave of French bistros?
Of course, this wave has been breaking for some years now. By now some of the leading figures on Chicago's bistro scene have come forward with second efforts to follow up their earlier successes. The biggest splash has been made by John Hogan, formerly of Kiki's Bistro, with his Savarin. A good deal grander (and more expensive) than a proper bistro, Savarin has drawn plenty of praise for its sophisticated take on traditional bistro fare since it opened in late 1998. Housed in a good-looking storefront space, Savarin's dining room seems larger than it is, due mainly to large mirrors that overwhelm the artwork wasted on its green and white walls. Far more effectively displayed is the pantheon-like series of painted portraits of top local chefs (including Hogan) that adorn the terrific upstairs bar space.
The food, as touted, is very good, but a recent experience there was soured by indifferent service. Our starters were knockouts - the daily chef's choice foie gras special, sauté ed with apricots and served with an accompanying glass of sauternes, and a plate of classic grilled sardines, each a spiky and toothsome pleasure. A salade lyonnaise was the perfect accompaniment to a plate of fresh, tender frisee. The entré es, tres traditional coq au vin and a rack of lamb, were fine but unremarkable (excepting the killer ratatouille that accompanied the lamb).
But our waiter, though equipped with a charming Gallic accent, was only a vague and intermittent presence, and his late placement of one of our entré e orders required us to resort to a disappointing consolation choice. He soon disappeared altogether, leaving it to the busboys to take our dessert orders and bring coffee (and, subsequently, ignore our desire for refills). Dessert Chef Wendy Kaplan should be praised unreservedly, however, for the mint chocolate chip ice cream she made to complement her marquis chocolate cake.
We had better luck at the new Bistrot Zinc. What better place for a bustling street-friendly bistro is there than the resurgent Rush Street dining scene, packed with diners and strollers? This second edition of Zinc has replicated many of the elements that made its original location on Southport so popular, albeit on a much smaller scale. Minus room for the big café area in the front of the Southport spot, the downtown Zinc has big windows that open onto the street, and pushes the Parisian theme a little harder in terms of the art on the walls and the newspapers hanging beside the bar on long bamboo handles. The menu bears a predictably strong family resemblance to that of the original Zinc, including the week's worth of regular plats du jour and an assortment of inexpensively priced crepes. Our foursome knocked back a few bottles of Sancerre and devoured a huge cold charcuterie plate and some excellent mussels to start. All of our entré es - sauté ed skate, a roasted half-duck, steak au poivre and a distinctly un-French mahi mahi fillet - were good if not transporting. Most importantly, it had a legit bistro feel, even if it tried a little too hard to achieve the effect.
Leave it to Jean-Claude Poilevy, maestro of Le Bouchon, to do the best job of reinventing the bistro with his new La Sardine. The new space is attractive, in a somewhat generic-feeling, exposed-brick, post-industrial-loft kind of way. It looks like a lot of other places, but in doing so finds a feeling of comfortable familiarity that's wholly consonant with the bistro spirit. Unlike the Frencher than France Le Bouchon, La Sardine has the look of what an American bistro (if there could be such a thing) should be - clean-lined, simple, open, straightforward. Like that of Le Bouchon, the simple, affordable menu is studded with bistro classics. We started with a bottle of spicy Chateauneuf du Pape, the tasty pâté de maison, and a dull house salad that was the sole dud to hit our table. The meat on our rack of lamb was superior to that at Savarin, and, at $16.25, almost six bucks less. The duck breast was very good, accompanied by a polenta so delicious we begged our waiter to bring us a little more, and he supplied it gratis. Dessert was a beautifully executed little soufflé with raspberry sauce. End result: we loved the place.
I regret I never got the chance to eat at John Terczak's La Centrale, because I'm sure it would have been good, but we're enjoying such an explosion of good new French restaurants that it's not much missed. Boom - that's the sound of another new joint opening near you.
Savarin, 713 North Wells, (312)255-9520
Bistrot Zinc 1131 North State, (312)337-1131
La Sardine, 111 North Carpenter, (312)421-2800
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