10/25/2007
Mom's cooking, on white tablecloths
By Trine
Tsouderos
Chicago Tribune
Taste John Hogan's braised short ribs at Tavern at the Park
and you're savoring the delicious memory of his late mom's pot
roast, braised in Guinness Stout.
"I remember walking home from school and you could smell
her cooking a block away," Hogan said.
Not that the short ribs are a carbon copy. Like much of the
upscale comfort food appearing on menus at some of Chicago's
hottest new restaurants, it's part dear old mum, part chef daughter
or son.
In this case, Hogan exchanged his mother's pot roast for more
trendy short ribs ("a hot, buzzy dish right now," Hogan
said) and braises them in red wine rather than beer.
Art Smith's Table Fifty-Two serves the Smith Family Twelve-Layer
Chocolate Cake, inspired by his family's 200-year-old recipe
("the birthday cake of my family," Smith said). Daryl
Nash's menu at Otom features a beef pot pie that echoes his mom's
chicken pot pie, complete with her rather unconventional addition
of noodles.
And Chalkboard offers an upscale knockoff of chef Gilbert Langlois'
mother's grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup -- blue cheese
on brioche with roasted tomato bisque. "I remember this
being the best thing as a child, but my mother used white bread," Langlois
noted on his menu.
Comfort food is, of course, nothing new. It's what you crave
when you want to feel warm and safe and nourished. Depending
on where you're from, it could be pot pie or pho.
And though serving up comfort food is a restaurant trend that
has probably flowed more than ebbed over the decades, Chicago's
experiencing a mini-boom in posh restaurants serving Mom's home
cooking with a refined twist.
"I think people really want to know that there is a mother
behind you," said Smith, whose restaurant serves dishes
like fried chicken and macaroni and cheese from family recipes. "It
really shows a lot about the person. I grew up on a farm with
a mother and a family that loved to cook, and I want that to
be reflected in what I do. People want to see and taste authenticity,
and a family recipe is as authentic as you can get."
It's a winning concept, Nash said.
Comfort food "fills your belly, it fills your heart," said
the chef, who learned to cook from his mother on a corn and soybean
farm in Moweaqua, a tiny town about 20 miles south of Decatur. "When
you are eating filling food that fills your heart and your mind
and your spirit and your belly, what could be better?"
For Nash, comfort food is, in part, pork bellies. Sure enough,
his mother's braised uncured pork belly appears on the Otom menu.
"Mine is the exact same thing," he said. "It's
pork belly seared, caramelized and braised to give it that good
wintry fall flavor."
Except it's not really the exact same thing -- it's her recipe
informed by the mind of a creative, trained chef. First, Nash
tweaked the classic mirepoix base (carrots, onions and celery)
his mother used, stirring up fall root vegetables like celery
root and rutabaga instead. Then, he added a distinctly modern
pairing: a puffed barley and turnip hash, with a rosemary puree
and a beet and coriander puree.
"My experience through education and professional kitchens
has given me insight into more refined techniques," he said.
For example, his mom often made a roux. She didn't know what
she was making was a roux, or exactly why cooking flour and butter
together in a certain way was a great way to start a sauce, but
she did it, he said.
After years of culinary training, Nash knows, and that gives
him room to be creative.
"When you know how to control the reasons you do things
a certain way, you can understand how to give it a twist," he
said.
Still, it's not as if his dishes would be unrecognizable to
his mom. "I think she would see a lot of herself in the
dishes," Nash said. "And she would know that it was
me. She would see a lot of me in them as well."
Smith, author of the cookbook "Back to the Family," said
he has changed his family recipes here and there, sometimes to
make them a little healthier, sometimes to improve them. "There
is nothing wrong with tweaking them so the product is better," he
said.
Hogan sees his cooking as something of a tribute to his mother,
who cooked breakfast, lunch and dinner for Hogan's father and
their seven children every day and whom he credits for nurturing
his passion for food.
"She would cook a nice rare roast beef and make a good
gravy and mashed potatoes. I remember her making for my father
Welsh rarebit. I loved it. She would make a Swiss steak and noodles
I was crazy about," he said. "She lives on through
me and my cooking.
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