.jpg)
I recently had the pleasure of dining with the charming ladies of local restaurant podcast site, Chicago Bites. We headed to Mexique, which opened earlier this year, to indulge in the newest fusion fare in the city: French-tinged Mexican cuisine.
French cooking was influencing American food even before Julia Child completed her culinary training at Le Cordon Bleu, although its incorporation into our palates at that time was more of a culture shock than the subtle role we see it play in so many "fusion" type cuisines nowadays.
Back then, it was all about the innovative use of sauces and classic techniques to update the meat-and-potatoes diet that belonged to much of middle class America. Child was particularly instrumental in our induction into francophilia--her cookbooks helped make French cuisine accessible to everyone. This influence is still seen today, although we tend to take it for granted; words like 'souffle' and 'hollandaise' are found in everyday menus across the United States, but they no longer carry the sheen of novelty.
The influence of French cuisine on American food in the late 1930s and early '40s, when the American culinary 'scene' was first getting its legs, marked a turning point in our gastronomic history: We could start actually having a history as such. But nearly a decade before we would experience our food revolution, French soldiers were invading Mexico--and bringing their chefs with them. The impact of the French on local cuisine there was far more fleeting than it would be in America, although just as exciting. Especially to Carlos Gaytan, chef and owner of Mexique.
In an interview with Time Out Chicago's Heather Shouse, Chef Gaytan cited the Franco-Mexican War of the 1860s as having been responsible for the initial marriage of French techniques and Mexican ingredients. Gaytan said he wishes to "resurrect" this forgotten combination, and--given his background in French cooking (Bistrot Margot) and Mexican heritage--he seems to be the right man to do it.
With appetizers ranging from sopes to rillettes, my initial perception of Mexique was "upscale Mexican," with a French twist. It wasn't until I looked closer that I realized the exacting detail with which Gaytan had effectively fused the two cuisines. Chipotle coulis here, a corn masa sope topped with escargots and chimichurri butter there, the integration is at once nuanced and harmonious.
I had already heard about how wonderful the sopes are, as well as the rillettes, so in the name of culinary exploration, we delved into uncharted areas of the appetizer menu.
We started with the Mejillones (mussels), which were fresh, plump, and steeped in a broth that begged us to request more bread. The dried chorizo sprinkled liberally over the shells added a welcome bite of heat, but what made the dish stand out was the saffron in the white wine broth. The unique, earthy flavor of saffron made it a natural pair for the creamy shellfish and brought to mind a similar dish cooked for me by a Basque friend many years ago. Basque Country, which straddles the border between Spain and France, is a coastal area known for its seafood and--of course--French and Spanish-influenced cuisine.
The Pescamal, on the other hand, didn't live up to our expectations. Described as "Seafood Mousse Tamal Cooked in Banana Leaves Stuffed with Crab Meat Fricassee, Lemon Confit and Clam -Tomato Sauce," it sounded wonderful on paper, but after one bite, not one of us could recall what the heck we had ordered. The flavors were muddled, the lemon confit was nowhere to be found and the tomato overwhelmed the seafood. It tasted good, but it just wasn't the light, flavorful mousse we had expected.
Our entrees were all-around hits, with the sweet potato puree side dish being one of the top performers, oddly enough. We asked for the recipe--it was that good--but Chef's assertion that it was basically pureed sweet potatoes and heavy cream seemed unbelieveable. Maybe the secret lies in where he gets his potatoes...hmmmm.
The lamb shoulder, slow-braised in coffee until it was fall-apart tender, was paired with a trio of lamb chops crusted in a horseradish-herb blend, cooked to a perfect medium rare, served with a rich, spicy sauce and a chewy sope topped with a roasted eggplant ragout. Sopes and lamb--two of my favorite things--brought together in one dish? I was in heaven. The sopes themselves are made with duck fat rather than the traditional lard, adding yet another French detail to Chef Gaytan's menu, while the barbacoa-style lamb is a traditional dish in central Mexico.
Other hits included the Pan-Seared Rainbow Trout, accompanied by the delicious delicious sweet potato puree, the Tilapia a la Talla, which sported a spicy rub, and the Grilled Flank Steak with spicy goat cheese fondue. To savor every delicious bite, check out the Chicago Bites podcast here.
We finished off the meal by ordering all of the desserts: Chocolate Enchiladas, Avocado Mousse, Apple Tart and Creme Brulee. I'm not big on creme brulee, but the ladies at the table all said it was top-notch. I dove into the chocolate enchiladas, which were heavenly, but seriously, if you put a load of dark chocolate on anything, I'm likely to think it's heavenly. That's why I'm not the Dessert Examiner. The apple tart was good, if standard, but the avocado mousse I found to be completely perplexing. It tasted like sweet guacamole, and was served with sugared, fried flour tortilla wedges. I enjoy a good sweet-savory combo, but this was one "fusion" that fell flat for me.
The dinner definitely warranted a return, probably to check out brunch, but I could easily see stopping by just to have an appetizer and a drink. There are plenty of eclectic/fusion restaurants in the city (French-Asian at Takashi and Le Lan, French-Vietnamese at Le Colonial, French-Mediterranean at Avec), but unless you've been to Mexique, you haven't had Mexican-French fusion. And I know you want to.
Mexique is located at 1529 W. Chicago Ave. Call 312-850-0288 to make reservations.