Food as art: Schwa

August 15, 1:35 PMChicago Dining ExaminerEmily Szopa

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Amuse: Grapefruit sorbet with black truffle on "ice."

Wow. Just...wow.  Ever since I left Schwa Wednesday night, I've been trying to figure out how to appropriately convey the experience in the simplest terms possible, but the only word that keeps coming to mind is: Wow.

Now, I've described the difficulty with which I met in trying to secure a reservation at the highly lauded restaurant, yet as I shopped for wine in preparation for our meal (Schwa is BYO), I worried that I might have let the hype get to me. High expectations could result in a serious let-down or, worse, the anticipation could serve to temper any disappointment, leading me to over-justify snags during service. Fortunately, neither possibility was given occasion to manifest itself: The meal was darn near perfect.

Everyone has their own definition of a "perfect meal," and in the interest of full disclosure I'd like to share mine. I waited tables at several fine dining establishments for a good number of years, so service is incredibly important: I want my napkin folded when I return from the ladies' room, I want fresh silverware and a clean table surface at all times, I want my wine to stay refreshed, and, most importantly, I want a server with a personality, but not someone who's gregarious to the point that it becomes a distraction. Ambience is also up there: Conversation should be possible without shouting, music should be present--yet not overwhelmingly so--the decor should reflect the chef's approach to his food, and the tables should all be equally comfortable. And of course, the food: I look for an inspired approach to classic ingredients and I also want to taste something I've never had before. And if something is totally off-the-wall, it'd better be awesome.

Alternately described as "DIY/punk rock" or "pretentious," the lack of support staff at Schwa has the potential to seriously interfere with the dining experience. And if you've ever worked in a kitchen, you know that chefs aren't necessarily the most personable characters. Fun to drink with after the shift, sure, but few servers would welcome a chef's interaction with their tables. In this case, however, it couldn't have been more welcome. We had the pleasure of being served by each of the four chefs hard at work, including Chef Michael Carlson, and not only were they super informative, incredibly detailed and well timed in their service, they were also funny.

When chefs Michael Noll and Jonathan Ory approached with plates of Chef Carlson's signature, ecstasy-inducing Quail's Egg Ravioli,--which we couldn't take our eyes off of from the moment the aroma reached our noses--Noll carefully set the first plate down, but instead of reciting a detailed description of the surprise course (it was not listed among the 9 dishes we were expecting), he quietly said, "I'm sorry, but there's a fire in the kitchen and we're going to have to ask you to leave."

Tearing our eyes from the second plate, which Noll was now taking from Ory and preparing to place in front of my companion, we both glanced toward the kitchen, where we could clearly see that there was no smoke or commotion at all. He was totally messing with us. Before I could say "No way, I'm eating this ravioli even if the kitchen is about to explode," Noll smirked and said, "Just kidding, this is the Quail's Egg Ravioil. Chef insists you eat it in a single bite."

Irreverent? Depends (on how seriously you take yourself). Funny? We thought so. Delicious? Abso-freakin'-lutely. (Quail's Egg Ravioli shown at right)

The other surprise course, a kefir lime tuile curled into the shape of an ice cream cone and filled with root beer foam topped with green curry ice cream, was accompanied by an entertaining explanation of the illegality of sassafras, which had been used to make the foam. "Sassafras is illegal because it's used in the making of Ecstasy," Noll said after setting down the cones. "So if you start feeling really good in a little while...you'll know why," he laughed, returning to the kitchen.

For someone whose slightly fatigue-tinged response to my comment that "It must be fun to work with this kind of stuff," was "It's long hours, guys. Really really long hours," Noll was still able to maintain his sense of humor about the whole operation, despite the hard work and long days. It's gotta be fun, or else those guys wouldn't have been smiling the whole evening.

So let me start from the beginning; the 9-course tasting menu went like this:

1. "Amuse" A dollop of grapefruit sorbet nestled atop grapefruit slivers and chamomile gelee, dusted with a sprinkling of New Zealand black truffle, presented on a chilled glass "ice cube." It was a refreshing start to the meal that paired well with the bright citrus and mineral notes of the Dagueneau "Blanc Fume de Pouilly" that we brought.

2."Hendricks Gin" A deconstructed approach to the botanical liquor, represented as four distinct flavors: juniper, cucumber, rose and coriander. The plate was primed with a 1/4"-thick layer of cucumber gelee, then artistically dotted with small cucumber balls, pearls of rosewater and coriander-soaked tapioca, paper-thin cucumber ribbons,  a rosewater tuile, shaved juniper ice and small sprigs of micro coriander. It made for a beautiful play on the traditional salad course, and although cucumber is among the very few things I don't generally enjoy, this plate was incredibly good.

Candied sweetbreads, icewine syrup and parsnip custard

 3. Surprise course #1: Green Curry Ice Cream "cone", previously described. The sassafras foam was great, making this a really inspired combo, but the curry ice cream was just a touch too salty. I could eat that lime tuile all day long, though...

4. "French Onion Soup" About 3 oz. of onion consomme served in a swirl-handled cup aside a smear of onion paste,  with a single brioche crouton blanketed in gruyère fondue and topped with several small gruyère crisps. The warm consomme was wonderfully rich and the gruyère was velvety, but as a follow-up to the previous dish, this plate seemed almost too basic. How quickly we had been spoiled!

5. "Pad Thai" Fairly traditional, yet very fresh tasting pad thai, but using jellyfish instead of noodles. Garnished with chopped peanuts and a peanut smear. This is the dish that scared my dining companion the most. For a guy who loves all forms of offal and other unusual delicacies such as fish eyes, it was shocking to me that he would shrink from the idea of eating jellyfish. He couldn't get past the texture, but I thought it was so close to the texture of rice noodles that if I hadn't been told it was jellyfish, I wouldn't have known the difference.
Interesting side note: When we asked if the jellyfish was cooked or raw, Chef Noll explained that jellyfish go rancid upon contact with air, so they have to be cured immediately. They then put them in a citrus-based marinade of sorts that "cooks" the fish and then they gently heat it right before serving, careful not to overcook because too much heat will result in a pile of rubberbands. 

6. Surprise course #2: "Quail's Egg Ravioli" This is perhaps the most well known dish in Chef Carlson's repetoire, yet it is no longer listed on the menu. Whether or not it shows up as an "extra dish" on any given night is totally luck-of-the-draw, although it seems to appear more often than not. The orgiastic descriptions from diners everywhere supports my own belief that this was the most amazing dish of the night. As Carlson himself has said, "It's fat, fat and more fat," which is perhaps why it tastes so wonderful. The delicate, fluted-edge ravioli holds liquid quail's egg in its center, topped with a single asiago shaving and surrounded by a brown butter sauce with truffle oil floating on the surface. When that ravioli bursts in your mouth...it's...just...ahhhhhh. Oh my. You know what I'm talking about.

Cheese course: Tiny "slices" of Humboldt Fog cheesecake.

 7. "Whitefish Roe" Fresh and dehydrated roe were served atop a plate painted with smears of black garlic and bacon purees. Small nests of shaved white asparagus rested in the corners, with a single spear topped with a piece of dehydrated bacon dividing the plate in half. The flavors were surprisingly delicate, with the sweetness of the garlic tempering the salt of the bacon and really bringing out the subtleties of the asparagus itself. The crunchy, bright orange roe elevated all of the flavors to a new level. This was an incredibly well balanced dish. Besides, you can't go wrong with bacon. Ever.

8. "Cobia" According to Chef Carlson, Cobia is a whitefish raised off the coast of Belize. Chef Noll said it's sometimes referred to as "lemonfish," although it must be for a reason other than flavor because there was no citrus to be found. Rather, the fish was smoked and had a chewier texture with a strong smoke flavor. It was served atop watermelon-and-red pepper Israeli couscous, with thin slices of watermelon rind adding a nice crunchy texture. The dish was also served with a slender shot glass of watermelon juice mixed with a touch of Campari. The flavors married extraordinarily well and created a truly hearty dish; the melon kept it light enough and added a welcome touch of summer to the meal.

9. "Morels" Plump, earthy morels were paired with fluffy lamb brain morsels (coated in corn starch and lightly fried), topped with mushroom foam and a single poached quail's egg. A smear of nasturtium puree added a beautiful streak of green to the plate, but perhaps its contribution was too subtle, or perhaps the salt in the fried coating was too aggressive, because I thought it had no taste whatsoever. The flower petals made for a pretty garnish, though. This dish had a distinctly rustic quality to it and was one of my favorites by far. By now we were on to our bottle of Marques de Riscal Tempranillo, which was light and dry with just enough fruit to make it a great accompaniment to the rest of the meal.

10. "Rabbit" Let me start by saying this was amazing. Slices of tender sous vide rabbit were set atop firm slices of peach carpaccio, with a generous disk of rabbit rillette (lightly fried) accented by a smear of sweet wheatgrass puree and Gumballhead beer foam. Sweet, sour, salty, crunchy, tender, smoky...this dish had it all. Definitely the best dish we had. (Then again, that ravioli...okay, we'll call it a tie.) 

11. "Cheese" This was a tiny, palate-cleansing slice of Humboldt Fog blue cheese "cheesecake" layered with truffled ash atop a graham cracker crust. Literally just a single bite, it was a satisfying end to the meal. Oh wait, but then there was dessert!

12. "Dessert" Our final dish consisted of a slab of parsnip custard with a drizzle of icewine caramel, passionfruit puree, candied sweetbreads and a lavender foam. The tanginess of the passionfruit and the delicate flavor of the parsnip custard combined with the crunchy sweetness of the sweetbreads to create a rich, savory-sweet finale. We couldn't have asked for a better finish.

All in all, dinner took about 2 and a half hours. Our reservation was at 7:30pm, and when we arrived we were only the second table. By the time we left, the modest dining room was packed, the rap mash-ups playing over the sound system could be heard just beneath the clatter of forks and service was in full swing. Our wine glasses were always full, our silverware always fresh, yet when I went through the kitchen to get to the bathroom, it was clear that all four chefs were plenty busy at their stations. I have no idea how they managed to perfect that choreography, but I can definitely say: Wow. Just wow.

 (Shown above, at left: The men of Schwa. From left to right: Jonathan Ory, Michael Carlson (front), Gaetano Nardulli and Michael Noll)

Top four photos courtesy of Agashi's Flickr photostream, last photo courtesy of the Chicago Sun Times