Back in the age of Camelot (i.e., when John and Jackie Kennedy occupied the White House and Julia Child was beginning her reign as the Queen of Cooking Shows), French cuisine was recognized in the United States as something special. Camelot ended much too quickly, but the fine dining movement did not as French restaurants started to appear regularly at the top of the lists of “the best” restaurants.
In 1973, Chef Jean Blanchet opened Le Francaise in Wheeling. Illinois, a suburb north of Chicago. Chicago was a meat and potatoes town at the time and Wheeling was somewhere far beyond the bounds of civilization. Nevertheless, Le Francais soon established itself as the finest restaurant in the Chicago area. The rich and famous began flying their private jets into the nearby Palwaukee airport to have dinner there. Reservations sometimes had to me made six months in advance. By 1980, Bon Appétit magazine declared it the best restaurant in the country.
Great chefs and great restaurants have a way of begetting more great chefs and great restaurants. Chef Carrie Nahabedian (owner/chef Naha and Brindille) and Chef Joe Doppes (owner/chef Bistro Margot) are among those who spent some time working for Chef Blanchet.
Two other chef/restaurant owners with a complex history with both Le Francais and each other are Roland Liccioni and Mary Beth Liccioni. The two of them met at Carlos’ (now Nieto’s) in Highland Park, another of the pioneers in truly fine dining in the Chicago area. Together, they leased Le Francais in 1989, operating it for 10 years until Chef Blanchet returned in 1999. Today, the two of them are working together at Les Nomades. Mary Beth bought the then private club in 1993. Chef Roland returned to Les Nomades to take up the toque there for the second time in late 2011. There is a lot more to the story – probably enough to make a pretty darn good movie – but I want to concentrate on the present in this article. You can read more of the story here.
The important thing to understand from this mini-history lesson is that Les Nomandes carries on a long tradition of preparing and serving French cuisine at world-class levels. It is not the same French cuisine that the Kennedy’s enjoyed in the White House or that Julia Child so expertly taught in her first books and TV shows. While Les Nomades clearly respects tradition, the restaurant and its principles have evolved over time. The classic French roots are unmistakable, but a modern approach to ingredients and food preparation is also obvious.
The dominance of French restaurants in fine-dining was broken over the years by a combination of the perceived heaviness of the cuisine (eggs? butter? heavy cream? NOOO!!!) and the globalization of food choices. Ironically, the fat-phobia of the ’80s and ’90s appears to have been misplaced and eggs, butter and cream have been welcomed back into the kitchen, at least in moderation. Alternative cuisines have continued to grow and improve, however, and not just in the ethnic conclaves in big cities. It’s not hard to find Thai, Japanese, Korean, Peruvian and other international flavors along with long-time favorites like Italian and Chinese even in smaller towns.
Even before the fat-phobia of the ’80s, many French chefs adopted the ideas of what was then called Nouvelle Cuisine, which rejected the use of heavy sauces and strong marinades in favor of lighter, fresher preparations. Modern French restaurants have re-introduced many aspects of classic French cuisine, fusing the ideas and techniques and adding influences from other cuisines as well.
So, enough history. Let’s take a look at the food and service at Les Nomades today, shall we?
When you enter Les Nomades, it’s like entering a home. In fact, I am pretty sure it is a home that was converted to a restaurant, though I can’t say for sure. Mary Beth will almost always be there to greet your personally. You can check your coat (which, of course, you will often have to wear in Chicago) before passing through the small, but very comfortable, bar area. It’s a quiet and comfy place for a drink either before or after dinner.
Quiet is a key word here. You will, of course, hear plenty of conversation and laughter, but the elegance of the ambience tends to bring out the elegance in the diners. Classical music plays quietly. There is a harmony to the whole experience. If you are looking for a loud, club experience, this ain’t it.
As you are seated, you will, of course, be asked if you would like a glass of wine or a cocktail. Have a glass of Champagne. It fits here and I almost always do, but I have also ordered classic cocktails like a gin Martini or a Manhattan and they were excellent, too.
As you sip your drink and peruse the menu and wine list, a selection of bread will appear on your table.
A classic white baguette will be there with a couple of supporting characters that change from time to time.
The menu is divided into 5 sections:
Plats Premier (Appetizer)
Deuxième (Second course)
Les Poissons (Fish)
Les Viandes et Les Volailles (Meat and Poultry)
Les Fromages et Les Desserts (Cheese and Dessert)
You may choose a four-course prix fix dinner by choosing an appetizer, second course, (fish or meat/poultry), and dessert or a five course dinner by choosing one dish from each section. Les Nomades does not offer a fixed, multi-course tasting menu, so Valeria and I each choose five courses and we share, essentially custom-making our own 10-course tasting menu.
[Note added 7/1/15: Les Nomades now offers a tasting menu, which immediately made my list of things to try.]
As in most fine dining restaurants, the chef sent out an amuse bouche (literally “mouth amuser”) to start. This is a small bite not on the menu that the chef selects. If memory serves, it is often a soup at Les Nomades and on this night it was Asparagus Soup with Hazelnut Gruyère.
A spoonful or two of rich, creamy soup that tasted of fresh asparagus, complimented the taste of the Gruyère cheese and the crunch of the hazelnuts. April is, of course, prime time for asparagus.
Les Nomades has an excellent wine list. Not surprisingly, French wines are well represented, but there are plenty of choices from all over Europe and the New World. There are around 15 wines available by the glass. The best feature for us, however, is and extensive (50 or more) selection of wine in half bottles. I can’t tell you how many times I have been in great restaurants with otherwise great wine lists that only offer a glass or a full bottle. When I am dining alone, I can polish off a whole bottle of wine, but that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea. When Valeria and I have a multi-course meal in a good restaurant, we usually want white wine with some courses, red with others. Two full bottles is too much (though we can technically drink part of the bottle and have the rest sealed up to take home, at least here in Chicago). We may find something on the “by the glass” list—or we may not. Two half bottles can be perfect.
So, we started with a half bottle of the 2011 Louis Michel & Fils Chablis “Montmain” Premier Cru, Chablis, France.
We have visited Chablis and fell in love with the town, the beautiful vineyards and the wines—at least the wines when they are well made. Chablis is made from Chardonnay, and, while it is fashionable to be part of the ABC movement (Anything But Chardonnay), that has more to do with a flood of cheap and poorly made Chardonnays from California (and elsewhere) than with the inherent quality of one of the world’s great white wine grapes. This one was drinking beautifully. Good Chablis is the antithesis of overblown California Chardonnay. It is lean, there is very little oak influence, and it has a nice acid backbone while really leting the flavors of Chardonnay fruit – floral, citrus, honey, apricots – come through. That’s what we had here. (By the way, there are many wonderful Chardonnays being produced in California, especially in western Sonoma County.)
Valeria’s choice for her appetizer was a good match for this wine: Langoustine ravioli, seared scallop, coconut curry sauce.
Actually, a nice Gewürztraminer might have been better, but the Chablis was good, too. A perfectly seared scallop, sweet langoustine in a tender ravioli, and the rich sauce with just enough coconut and curry flavor.
My choice for the first course could not have been much less appropriate for the Chablis, but I made it anyway: Sautéed Hudson Valley Foie Gras, strawberry-balsamic reduction, Armagnac sauce.
With apologies to all who think liver is yucky or that force feeding ducks is barbaric, I love foie gras and will almost always order it when I have a chance. Not surprisingly, Chef Roland is an expert with it. Fruit, acid and Cognac all play very nicely with the simply seared, fatty meat. These were on the plate in the form of strawberry, balsamic vinegar and Armagnac. It was delicious—and the one dish I really didn’t want to share with Valeria (but, of course, I did).
Foie gras is usually paired with a sweet wine, most often Sauternes. I bought a glass of something sweet separately (the dish would overwhelm the Chablis completely) but I am ashamed to say I cannot remember what it was.
For our second course we both ordered Mushroom Soup with Truffle Foam because, well, we both wanted mushroom soup.
A well-made soup is always good, and mushroom soup is a favorite of ours. Again, it is no surprise that a French chef can make an outstanding mushroom soup. Adding a dollop of truffle foam on top adds the wonderful aroma and flavor of truffles to the dish.
Valeria opted not to order a fish course, but I went for the Sautéed Spanish Turbot, quinoa, watermelon radish and saffron pomme macaire.
Turbot is a favorite fish of ours (Valeria got a bite or two, of course) as it is mild but the flesh is firm. “Pomme macaire” is a fried potato cake; baked and mashed potatoes are shaped into small cakes and fried. The saffron scenting gave this one a nice color and made a great complement to the dish, adding another layer of flavor and two layers of texture.
On to Les Viandes et Les Volailles (Meat and Poultry). Valeria ordered the poultry: roasted duck breast and confit duck leg, Savoy cabbage and green peppercorn sauce.
The breast came out a perfect medium (as we requested). The leg, slow-cooked in duck fat, was tender and delicious. The peppercorn sauce had a great meaty flavor and just a little zing from the peppercorns. This is how a duck should be treated if it has died for you to eat.
Since Valeria got the poultry, I got the meat: Braised Wagyu beef short rib, root vegetables, trumpet royal mushrooms and Bordelaise sauce.
Braised short ribs are one of my go-to comfort dishes in the winter. While my thoughts had already started to turn to lighter, springier fare, this dish seemed right on this night. It was a good choice. Meltingly tender, deeply flavored both on its own and with the delicious sauce, the dish is poster child for the phrase “beefy goodness.”
Of course we had our half-bottle of red wine to go with this: the oustanding 2007 E. Guigal Gigondas, Rhone, France.
Guigal is one of the best, most consistent wine producers in the Rhone region. For three generations the family has been elevating the quality of wines from the Rhone, especially the Côte-Rôtie. Their three vineyard-designated Côte-Rôties—La Landonne, La Turque and La Moline—are made from Syrah with (in the case of La Turque and La Mouline) a little Viognier blended in. These 3 wines typically cost several hundred dollars per bottle and they are excellent.
Gigondas is in the warm southern end of the Rhone. It is less highly regarded than other areas in the region and therefore generally much less expensive. The wines are primarily Grenache and can have small amounts of Syrah, Mourvedre and other grapes in the blend. The best Gigondas is very good, indeed, and few producers make a Gigondas as consistently good as Guigal. The 2007 is a great example. It’s very dark with an open nose of blueberries, blackberries, black cherries and minerals. All of these aromas come through in the flavor of the wine. It is drinking just beautifully now.
We had just enough of the Gigondas to carry us through a cheese course.
I should have made a note of the exact cheeses on the plate, but I didn’t. We love cheeses of all kinds, so it didn’t matter that much. They did come with a nice plate of accoutrements.
Finally, dessert: a classic Grand Marnier Soufflé. That’s about as classic and old-school as you can get, but a soufflé, for my money, is still a great dessert. Usually just big enough to share nicely, relatively light and with good flavor.
The soufflé was a fine excuse to spurge on an after-dinner glass of the 150th anniversary bottling of Grand Marnier.
The Cuvée du Cent Cinquantenaire was created in 1977 to celebrate the 150th anniversary of Grand Marnier, it is blended using older stocks of Cognac than the regular bottling. The characteristic spicy-orange noise is more complex thanks to the nuances of the older Cognacs.
No dinner in a fine dining restaurant is complete without a small plate of mignardises—miniature pastries and sweet—to close the meal as the amuse bouche opened it.
After a delicious meal, we really didn’t need them, but we ate them anyway. 🙂
Les Nomades carries on the tradition of great French restaurants in fine style. Some folks have no interest in this type of dining, while others might save it for a once-a-year anniversary of holiday celebration. It’s all good. You won’t find Valeria and me there every night, but we love to go when we feel like an elegant meal in a warm, familiar place.
Les Nomades
Address: 222 E Ontario St, Chicago, IL 60611
Phone: (312) 649-9010
Reservations: opentable.com
Website: http://www.lesnomades.net
Dinner: Tuesday – Friday: 5:00pm – 9:00pm, Saturday: 5:00pm – 9:30pm
Payment Options: AMEX, Diners Club, Discover, MasterCard, Visa
Chicago, IL 60611
