Two major dinners at two equally major Chicago restaurants left us realizing that we couldn’t decide which was best. We’d called for reservations at Everest, whose name is due to its location on the 40th floor of the Chicago Stock Exchange, but we sort of fell into dinner at Tru, which turned out to be a block and a half from our hotel. We’d arrived in town in the midst of a terrible storm and without firm plans for the night. When we realized our proximity to Tru, we phoned, hoping for a cancellation, and sure enough, the power outage and downed trees had kept a few folks away.
The two places are very different, Tru very modern in its decor and approach to food and Everest showing the strong influence of Jean Joho, an Alsatian who remains its inspiration, in both food and a somewhat more traditional decor. Both serve multi-course prix fixe meals that are deeply indulgent splurges. These are definitely places where dinner is the evening; don’t plan on a quick bite before heading off to theater.
Tru, under the leadership of Rick Tramonto and Gale Gand, is white-on-white in its ground floor windowless rooms, dramatic and almost stark, but luxurious enough to offer midnight blue velvet stools for holding diners’ purses. And pay attention to the tableware, much of it custom-designed, with items like Laguiole knives. We were particularly impressed with the service, deeply attentive without being stuffy or overly familiar. There’s a lot of room between coming off like a drinking buddy and like a butler from an English movie; at these prices, there’s no excuse for not hitting that spot.
The meal kicked off with not one but two amuse-bouches, including peeky-toe crab over cucumber "noodles," a cool combination of textures and tastes. The bread service had both sweet and salted butter and three breads, including a remarkable pumpernickel onion. Among the first courses was a wonderful lobster soup topped with a buttery foam sprinkled with espelette pepper, a lemony dumpling of spoonbread in the middle of the soup. Scallops and Spanish chorizo mixed with chunks of avocado in a thickened broth of seafood and sausage, all under another layer of foam, the edge sprinkled with a few tiny, tiny dice of jalapeno.
Two strips of lamb loin, rare and tender, came with peach chutney, peach mayonnaise and dice of daikon radish. The peach worked well with the mild gaminess of the lamb, the daikon’s crunch adding to the fun. Smoked Scottish salmon with Thai seasoning? Yes, if it’s done like this, in a tart-spicy broth with a hint of coconut, some strips of Granny Smith apple cooked to a mild crunch, the whole thing an unexpected hit with lots of big flavors.
Yet another amuse-bouche arrived to herald the desserts. Given Gand’s reputation in that department, it’s not surprising that the back end of the meal is given as much attention as the starters and main courses. The amuse was a crispy soy wafer "glued" to a vanilla panna cotta with a dab of orange curd.
A cylinder of sticky toffee pudding, very lightly sauced, came with oatmeal ice cream, quite tasty (after all, consider oatmeal cookies), caramelized bananas and dates, with wee dots of a root beer reduction in the center of the platter.
Pineapple soup with a hit of rum was poured around an island of coconut tapioca walled off with strips of fresh pineapple and topped with pineapple sorbet, gels of passionfruit and mango and a cooked sugar sculpture of a tropical fish. And for anyone who wonders why restaurants can be so expensive – that’s 11 or 12 separate items for two desserts.
We’d spied a cart being wheeled around the room, but it had never come close enough for us to realize 
what was on it. When it arrived, we were greeted by, among other things, a chorus line of chocolate lollipops, neatly lined up with architectural — or maybe choreographic –precision. Diners may choose as many of the ten or so options from the cart as they wish. We began with a dark chocolate, peanut butter and jelly lollipop, and went on to, among other options, a blackberry pave des fruits (paves are a sort of Chuckles gone to glory, with real fruit, something Ann never misses when she has the chance), a lavender macaroon sandwiched with lemon curd, a bite of opera cake, the French classic with coffee and chocolate, some nougat with pistachios, and something called a chocolate meltaway, which was dark chocolate with raspberry. We sat back, had some very good coffee and signed happily.
And then came three chocolates, dark chocolate with hazelnut, milk chocolate with the Asian 5-spice flavoring and a white chocolate whose specifics are lost in the daze of a blood sugar over the top.
The wine list was elegant and extremely expensive at both restaurants, with first growth Bordeaux and Burgundies, plus American wines of very rare labels. Lots of old wines, too.
The final touch was a parting gift, "for breakfast," a mini-loaf of pound cake, which hit about the only off-note in the whole experience, being disappointingly dry. But overall, it was a splendid experience that we’d be more than happy to repeat and to recommend highly.
Tru
676 N. St. Clair St., Chicago
312-202-0001
Dinner Mon.-Sat.
Credit cards: All major
Wheelchair access: Good
Smoking: None
Prix-fixe: $95 (3 courses) – $250 (a caviar tasting)
Visiting Everest when you’re driving feels like something out of a spy movie. The directions call for pulling up to a blank garage door and identifying yourself via an intercom. The door groans open, and a speaker gives rather complex directions, but eventually, the car is parked. From there, the trip to the 40th floor involves a couple of elevator changes and a bit of hide-and-seek. And we warn those who are mobility-impaired that once in the restaurant, there are stairs to reach almost every table. Another minority, however, is given serious attention, with a vegetarian prix-fixe menu, to go with the non-vegetarian options.
That said, this is a handsome room with a European sense of decor. The view is the focus of one dining room; the other, more central, is under a skylight, from where one can see the windows—a little. Service is rather formal; no chit-chat, at least until later in the evening when a table has relaxed and signaled an interest in more interaction. And how nice that is, too; we have much respect for good servers, but unrequested self-introduction and discussion of their personal favorites has no place in most restaurants, especially in one like Everest.
Three amuse-bouches began the meal. Cold fennel soup in a wee silver pot the size of a coffee measure, a bit of fried haddock on some julienned cucumber "noodles" that was rather bland, and a spoonful of delicious bacalao, or dried cod, mousse.
We didn’t mean to choose appetizers that looked so much alike, but a terrine of shellfish and other seafood and a terrine of rabbit both turned out to be cold terrines served in gelatin. The seafood, described as "bouillaibaisse style" came with aioli, the garlic mayonnaise that’s traditional with the French seafood stew, but still lacked excitement. The rabbit terrine was much more flavorful, meaty and rich. Cold rabbit: Who knew?
Interestingly, our questions about the preparations of a yellow tomato risotto were stonewalled. We 
asked how it was prepared, wondering just how the chef was using the yellow tomatoes, and got merely, "It’s rice cooked in an open pan." What about the tomatoes? "There are tomatoes in it." We’re not sure if this was the general rule of the house or if this particular captain just didn’t want to discuss it. At any rate, the risotto was perfectly cooked, correctly al dente, quite rich, a wee bit salty, the tomato flesh part of the cooking liquid and the roasted skins of the yellow pear tomatoes arranged in a flower-petal pattern on the top. A lobster salad (pictured, left) with a brilliant green watercress sauce brought a thrill, the cool, sweet lobster meat tender under the peppery sauce.
Sturgeon (pictured below) is something seldom seen on American menus, its rich flesh a sturdy main course. Everest’s kitchen wrapped it in thin slices of what we think was an air-cured ham and in a cabbage leaf, the salty, slightly sour notes bouncing off the fish. Alongside it were old-fashioned duchesse potatoes, the cream-laden potato puree piped out and run under the broiler, the whole thing impossible to resist. Venison arrived rare and sliced with a huckleberry sauce, a magic combination, the tanginess of the berries matching up perfectly with the slight gaminess of the meat. And here was a vegetable medley that would make the broccoli-yellow squash-carrot combo die in shame: green beans, fresh limas and kidney beans, little cippolini onions and a bit of carrot, all awash in butter and flavor. And just to remind the eater of the Mittel Europa ancestry of the restaurant, there were knipferle, little hand-made dumplings like spaetzele, finished off with a fast saute in more butter.
A pause to catch the breath and chat with another table of St. Louisans who happened to be visiting that night. And then dessert: A cold souffle of fromage blanc – think of a cool, incredibly light cheesecake – with nectarine ice cream and a nectarine gel with a swoosh of toasted meringue, all the tangy fruit flavor remaining. And an exercise in chocolate, with a dark ice cream, a dacquoise, that cake that’s made with layers of cooked meringue, looking light but tasting rich, a total of five items, each a superb, rich, delicious treat.
The little sweets at the end of a meal, called mignardises, came here, too, a platter with lot
s of options. More macaroons of various flavors – and watch for macaroons; they’re hot in France, and they’re the coming thing on the East Coast. A chocolate-covered marshmallow shaped like an inverted cone, white chocolate bark with nuts and dried fruit, a strawberry fruit gel covered in coarse, crunchy sugar, and a chocolate truffle are all that we can remember; things do begin to blur, even for the professionals.
Particularly excellent coffee as we watched the lights of the city, and realized that somewhere, probably in Wisconsin, there must be a dairy farm whose entire butter output goes to this restaurant.
Everest
440 S. LaSalle St., Chicago
212-663-8920
Dinner Tues.-Sat.
Credit cards: All major
Wheelchair access: Limited
Smoking: No
Prix Fixe: $79 (3 courses) – $96 (4 courses)