This past week, I tasked my good friend in Chicago with setting up a dinner to impress a group of local clients. The chosen venue was L20. After reading the unbelievably honorable national reviews, I was stoked to say the least. This fine establishment, located in Lincoln Park is considered by many to be one of the top restaurants IN THE WORLD. The room is unbelievable and the service, sickening. I almost felt elitist being waited on in this manner. Our table of eight came complete with it's own army of black-clad service folk and sommoliers. A waterfall babbled in the background and and the room, draped in elegance reminded me a bit of Asia De Cuba, New York's jewel of culinary fusion. I had already perused the menu on-line and knew exactly my strategic position here. It definitely involved the lamb tartar, with ebi (sweet shrimp) foam. As the food arrived and I dug in, a feeling of sickening disappointment came over me. It was the same feeling that a few previous explorations into molecular gastronomy had produced. The thing about this type of cooking is the subtle flavors and accents that are supposed to make up the soul of this style. But the problem was indentifyable from the very first bite. I absolutely, unabashedly require that my food come complete with layers and depth. I prefer dark flavors, accented with brightness and somewhere rooted in ancient culture. The food at L20? Scientific, beautiful, sterile, subtle, pretentious and........ SOUL-LESS! What a disappointment.
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