It was a sad day last month when I read that Henri, a French restaurant on Michigan Avenue right across from Millennium Park, had decided to close and remake itself as an Italian restaurant, to reopen a few weeks later.
Henri occupied a special niche for Valeria and me. It was not as imposing as the best of the 2 and 3 Michelin star restaurants in town, although we always thought it deserved at least one star. The decor looked very formal, but the music was a nice mixture of French tunes and American classics from the 40s and 50s which gave a relaxed, almost Bistro-ish vibe. The staff – managers, bartender, hostesses and waitstaff – were consistently warm and friendly.
The tasting menu was a manageable 5 to 7 courses and was reasonably priced with very well-chosen wine pairings as an option. You could linger over the courses for an evening or, if you were headed to the theater, as we often were, they would do the entire tasting menu in 90 minutes or so, somehow without feeling rushed at all.
So it was a bittersweet moment when we booked what was likely to be our last dinner at Henri. It got just a bit sadder when Valeria was called away and I ended up eating alone. But, a fellow’s gotta eat, so I marched bravely on.
Like most good restaurants these days, the cocktail menu is taken very seriously at Henri. My favorite there is (soon to be was!) their house cocktail, the Henri Presse. It is based on the Sidecar, which, like many great classic cocktails, was developed (somewhat ironically) during Prohibition. A typical Sidecar recipe is:
1 oz Cognac (or other whiskey)
½ oz Cointreau (or Triple Sec)
½ oz lemon juice
These ingredients are shaken with ice and poured into a Martini glass, then garnished with lemon peel or a slice of lemon.
Henri uses a mixture of rye whiskey and Pineau de Charentes (a Cognac-based French aperitif) in place of the Cognac and Combier Orange Curaçao in place of the Cointreau. The result is a light, refreshing cocktail with a great balance of sweet and sour – unlike the too sweet “martinis” that dominate so many cocktail lists.
Bread has become an enemy to many these days, either because of the carbs or the gluten. Truth be told, I have cut back my carb intake a lot, but when I go to a restaurant that offers good bread, I indulge. Henri did not offer a half a dozen breads to chose from, which may be too much of a good thing.
There was usually a single offering (sometimes two) that was some variation on classic French bread baked in individual portions. That was perfect for me to use as a palate cleanser between courses or wines. Bonus: the excellent butter was always served at or near room temperature so it spread well on the warm bread.
The first course was a Torchon of Foie Gras with apricots, figs, and uni cream. It was served with a NV Billecart-Salmon Demi-Sec Champagne. A torchon of foie gras is very similar the more common terrine. In both cases, a duck liver is carefully deveined and seasoned with salt, pepper, sugar. pink salt (sodium nitrate) and a splash of Cognac or Sauternes. Some chefs soak the liver overnight in milk before seasoning, some don’t. Once seasoned, a terrine is made by stuffing the liver into a
heavy, rectangular pan with a tight fitting lid called a – wait for it – terrine. “Torchon” is French for kitchen towel, so a torchon is wrapped -can you see where this is going? – in a kitchen towel, although today it is more common to use cheesecloth instead of a towel. The seasoned foie gras is allowed to cure in the refrigerator overnight.
Once cured, a terrine is baked in a water bath and a torchon is simply dropped into not-quite-simmering water. How long? Chefs such as Thomas Keller of the French Laundry only cook a torchon for 90 seconds or so, essentially just firming up the outside and leaving the inside raw. Other recipes call for heating to 130 to 140°F. After heating, the terrine/torchon is chilled and sliced.
Foie gras is almost always served with a little salt some some kind of sweet component, often a fruit. For this dish, uni (sea urchin) provided the saltiness and figs provided the sweet. Delicious!
The next dish was a true homage to spring: soft-poached egg yolk, asparagus, almond milk, macaroon and mustard seeds. Eggs and asparagus are a classic match that blended smoothly with the flavors of the almond milk and macaroon, while the mustard seeds offered contrasting flavors and texture. The colors and textures on the plate were also a work of art, as you can see in the photograph.
A NV Orleans y Borbón Manzanilla Sherry from San Lucar de Barrameda, Spain, was poured with the egg and asparagus dish. The nutty flavor of the sherry played really well with all of the ingredients of the dish.
The third course featured shellfish: citrus poached lobster, with white chocolate custard, tarragon cream and puffed amaranth. My serving had a few of nice pieces of lobster, including tail, leg & claw meat that were perfectly poached. I’m fussy about the doneness of lobster and shrimp. I don’t like them over cooked or undercooked and my window for “perfect” is pretty small. They nailed it. The combination of citrus, white chocolate and tarragon flavors was terrific and one I don’t remember having before.
The really new element to me was the puffed amaranth, which I had not had before. Amaranth is one of the ancient grains that has been re-discovered and has become popular as a nutritious, gluten-free grain. It was a staple part of the ancient Aztec diet. I have had it boiled several times, but was not aware that it could be popped much like popcorn by putting a small amount in a very hot pan and stirring until the seeds pop open.
In modern Mexico, puffed amaranth is mixed with honey or chocolate and sometimes other seeds like sunflower or pumpkin and made into candy bars called alegría (joy, in Spanish). They are particularly popular during the Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) celebrations on November 1, but that would be the subject of a very different column. In this dish, it added a nice crunch and a bit of nutty flavor.
The lobster was served with the 2012 Domaine Maestracci Rosé, Corsica France. Rosés were considered the quintessential summer wines for centuries, but hey got a bad reputation in the United States when the market was flooded with “White Zinfandel” and other pink wines that had the sweetness and flavor profile of Kool-Aid. Happily, that era is ending and people are rediscovering how delightful a cool, crisp, dry rosé can be in the summer.
Domaine Maestracci is a family-owned vineyard and winery on the Island of Corsica near the town of Calvi. I have not seen the wines often and only tasted the reds a couple of times in the past. I had never had the rosé before, which is a blend of Nielluccio (better known to most of us by it’s Tuscan name, Sangiovese and Sciaccarello. The nose had nice floral, red fruit and a slight herbal components that carried through in the flavors with good acidity.
The fish course was Black Bass with rhubarb-crab croquette, spring squash and a Banyuls beurre blanc. The bass was perfectly pan fried – just cooked through and with a crispy skin. Pairing pan-fried fish with a beurre blanc sauce is a classic, but this beurre blanc was not a traditional one. Usually made with shallots, butter and dry
white wine, Banyuls is an unusual – and, as it turned out, very good – substitute for the white wine. Banyuls is a fortified, somewhat sweet, dessert wine made like sherry or port and which, to my taste, captures some of the flavor and texture of each. It has the weight and sweetness of a port and is often recommended as an ideal match for chocolate. I agree that pairing works well. It also has some of the nutty, maderized characteristics of a Sherry. It probably pre-dates both of these wines and is made mostly of Granache. The sauce was delicious with the fish, and the rhubarb-crab croquette added some texture and flavor to the dish.
A glass of 2012 Matthiasson Chardonnay from the Napa Valley accompanied the bass dish. I am generally not a fan of Napa Chardonnay, but this one is an exception. More elegant than the typical fat, oaky style that came to dominate Napa Chardonnays, this one was more elegant and the nose and flavors were dominated by apples, pears and lemon. It was also light and flavorful in the mouth with really great acidity that washed away the butter sauce perfectly. Having said that, there was something about the flavor match that didn’t work for me. Quibbling a bit here, I think.
The fowl course (number 5, if you’re counting) was roasted squab, brown butter Sherry cream, black truffles, Oyster mushroom, fava beans and squab liver. Anyone who calls himself a chef but cannot create a great dish with that list of ingredients should be stripped of his toque and removed from the kitchen. No problem here.
Moreover, I have to confess that, while I know squab is “supposed” to be prepared rare to medium-rare, I like it medium. So sue me. The nice thing is, the kitchen met my request perfectly – a nice, warm, pink center to the meat. And did you notice all the truffle shaved on top?
The wine was a great match: 2008 Bruno Clair “Les Vaudenelles” Marsannay, Burgundy, France, i.e, Pinot Noir. This was not a great, proof there is a God sort of Burgundy, but it was a nice Burgundy, mature, with plenty of black fruit, some spiciness and just enough weight and acidity to pair beautifully with the dish.
The sixth and final savory course had to be meat, and it arrived in the form of a Lamb Tournedo Croustade, with Castelvetrano olives, duck fat fried potato, ramp purée and a lamb jus lie. I love lamb, and this was a perfect little piece of medium-rare loin served with a little of the puff pastry crust (croustade) that appeared to have been
baked separately. Castelvetrano olives are from Sicily and have a very bright green color. Chopped fine and placed on top of the tournedo, they added some salty flavor and even a hint of sweetness.
Ramps are in the onion and garlic family but have an aroma and flavor all their own. Once popular only in the south where they grew wild and were harvested in the spring, they have become a popular, and flavorful, seasonal ingredient across the country. Add some duck fat fried potatoes for flavor and crunch and some lamb drippings reduction to the plate and you end with a really nice dish.
For the wine, a Bordeaux-style blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and Cabernet Franc from the Napa Valley, the 2010 Robert Sinskey “POV.” This is a young wine with intense black fruit aromas on the nose and flavors in the mouth, supported by a nice balance of herbal and spicy notes. Big on the palate and long on the finish, great match for the lamb. If you have some, let it age – or not. Really tasty now.
While those who live for dessert will disagree with me, too many restaurants go wrong in their tasting menus by bringing out 3 to 5 (sometimes more) dessert after
the main part of the meal is over. For me, one perfect chocolate truffle and an after dinner liquor or Scotch is a great ending. But that’s just me.
Henri finished my “last supper” with two desserts. The first was an intensely flavored raspberry sorbet. I would not have missed it if it were not there, but it was cool and delicious.
For my last dish at Henri, a triple chocolate mousse: dark, white and milk chocolate. Not too sweet. Great chocolate flavor. No wow factor, but a nice hit of chocolate to
end the night. I would have been happy with the little chocolate piece on top, but the world is full of chocoholics who need this to end a meal.
So, farewell to Henri (named after the famous Chicago architect Louis Henri Sullivan) and hello to 10/6 (pronounced 10 and 6 and named after the price tag in the Mad Hatter’s hat in Alice in Wonderland. The new restaurant, Italian (yes, Chicago desperately needs another Italian restaurant – not) should be more casual and more inviting to tourists walking down Michigan Avenue. The ownership and culinary team remains intact, so I am expecting a really good experience in the new restaurant. I’ll let you know.
