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Mexican Fusion
Emphasis on the word “fusion,” otherwise, you’re misunderstanding.
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Cantina 1910 is a new, stylish, gastronomic restaurant that opened today on Clark & Winnemac, in Andersonville, Chicago. The menu emphasizes imaginative twists on Mexican ideas – or in some cases, ingenious Mexican twists on traditional ideas.
If you visit Cantina 1910’s site and read these two write-ups (Chicagoist, Chicago Reader), you’ll be up to speed. I’m not going to repeat what you’ll find in those articles, but will concentrate instead on telling you about my experience dining there last night. A full two-thirds of the miLam contingent (Jeff the Chef and Randy, miLam’s IT consultant-to-the-stars) attended a pre-opening dinner that was, in a word, refreshing. In eight words, it was also quite satisfying and even eye-opening. When the word gets out – and it will – this place is going to be the hottest thing north of Wrigley.
What We Had
1910 Old Fashioned: FEW bourbon, Vida mescal, bitters; $13. First, visual: gorgeous, reddish amber in a large rocks glass with a single, sizeable, crystal-clear ice cube. Then, scent: a spicy orange so arousing, that if it were cologne, I’d be dousing myself in it routinely. So soothing, I’d consider it aroma therapy. Indeed, I hesitated to taste it, contented to continue with just the aroma. But of course, I did taste it: the flavor is centered on the bourbon which is, compared to my expectations, light and pleasantly sweet. The mescal brings mostly fruit and spice and sits just beyond the flavor foyer, like a quietly flirtatious Salma Hayek, pretending coyly to be demure: cinnamon and citrus. Orange twist; the bitters, I’m guessing, are also orange. Both contribute to the incredible bouquet. A surprisingly delicious brandied cherry also garnishes the drink. I haven’t enjoyed a beverage so much since way back in November, when I got into a knife fight on the Boulevard of Sin – and that’s high praise, indeed. In fact, I had to have a second one. Had to.
Bay Scallop Ceviche: bay scallops, piro de gallo, cauliflower, finger lime; $16. Guacamole: $9. Arroz Negro: arroz negro, squid picadito, corn crema; $14. Nachos: nachos with maronga chili, chiles en vinagre, fennel; $13. This dish features liver, which surprised us. All in all, a creative and fantastic reimagining of what you think of as nachos. We recommend that, if you order the nachos, you cut the liver up into slightly smaller pieces, and fish around with your fork in an effort to get as many different flavors as you can into each bite. The dish is delicious no matter how you eat it, but it’s particularly charming in the aggregate. Al Pastor Tacos: adobo spit roasted pork, wheat grass, tomatillo; $8.50. Pozo-Pollo Tacos: braised chicken, kohlrabi, radish, shallots, corn nuts; $8.50. If I say that I particularly enjoyed the tacos, you have to understand that I enjoyed the entire dining experience immensely. I’m putting the tacos ahead similar to the way Michael Phelps won London gold in the butterfly by a fraction of a second (.23 seconds, in fact), while the overall take away is … it’s the fucking Olympics!
Chocolate de la Tierra: chocolate pudding, spiced chocolate milk, churro, tortilla whipped cream, spiced poached blackberries, walnuts. A delicate churro ring with a mound of chocolate mousse so heady it is almost like … a barely-sweet chocolate that knew deep down all its life, that it wanted to be savory – but it didn’t yet have the courage (let alone the money) to make the transformation. It is almost like that. A dollop of cream delivers the impact of the chocolate to your taste buds in a way that will change them forever, for the better. The chocolate’s seemingly boundless depth is balanced by the cinnamon in the churro, which grounds the dessert and keeps your head from drifting into a nirvana from which there might otherwise be no return. We christened this dish “the lasso of truth,” because by the time we’d had it, I’d finished my second bourbon, and in that state, I somehow couldn’t help making the connection. (I’ve always had a thing for Lynda Carter, and whiskey usually brings that out in me.) I was tempted to have a second “lasso of truth” and a third bourbon, but I was afraid that if I did, I might wind up spinning around to a 70’s funk band accompaniment; fortunately, better sense prevailed.
Cantina 1910
Epilogue
The splash page of Cantina 1910’s website says “Mexican Reinvented,” and they mean “reinvented” in a fundamental way. It’s a new way of thinking about Mexican cuisine. The money you’ll spend at Cantina 1910 is worth it. It will buy you an evening in a spectacular space, in a trendy neighborhood, where you’ll have world-class cocktails and remarkable, locally-sourced food (some of it so local, it’s grown on the roof) prepared in a preservation kitchen. You’ll find every dish to be a delicious and elevated surprise. You’ll have a culinary experience as much as you’ll have dinner. If you have lip-reading skills, that’ll come in handy because the room’s acoustics are quite lively. If you have a wandering eye and a thing for beards, you might want to psych yourself up to keep it in check because the staff, from the maître d’ to the bartenders to the waiters, are pretty much eye candy to a one.
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Credit for all images on this page: except fot the chef’s headshots (credit: Cantina 1910), Make It Like a Man! Hover over images and/or green text for pop-up info. Click for joy. Although I was invited to a pre-opening dinner, it was not done in exchange for this post. The decision to write the post and the opinions I express in it are mine alone. This content was not solicited, nor written in exchange for anything. Thanks, Ricardo, for your insights.
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