Review update: June 5, 2006:
"What is good enough for me today is not good enough for me tomorrow," says chef Jean Joho, and that philosophy helps explain how Everest has remained one of Chicago's very best restaurants for more than 20 years. From the private-elevator ride and 40th-floor view to such considerate touches as complimentary indoor valet parking and gratis pre-dessert sweets, Everest strives to dazzle you throughout the evening. But it is Joho's masterful cooking-Alsatian at its core but created exclusively with American (and usually Midwestern) ingredients-that sends diners home beaming. And Joho is unparalleled in his ability to transform humble ingredients into gustatory royalty, as seen in creations such as cabbage-wrapped wild sturgeon, or a potage of sunchoke with black-trumpet mushrooms.
Original review: published February 3, 1995 below:
4 stars (out of four)
Rating key:
4: Outstanding
3: Excellent
2: Very good
1: Good
Satisfactory
Unsatisfactory
More so than any other Chicago restaurant, Everest strives to dazzle you before the meal begins.
First there is the underground parking lot, reached via a secluded Loop street. Self-park with the hoi polloi? Never. Signs direct Everest patrons to a private valet parking area. You ride a paneled elevator to the sumptuous main lobby, then take a marble-paneled elevator to the 39th floor, then a tiny private elevator to the 40th floor. Someone offers to take your coat as soon as you step off.
Feeling exclusive yet? It gets better.
Your table is oversized, minimally but tastefully appointed to focus attention on the food. Everest's windows offer commanding western views, but the rest of the decor is understated, white-on-white-a canvas awaiting the artist's touch.
Which brings us to the food of chef/proprietor Jean Joho, who justifies his international renown with every dish that comes from his kitchen: A silver iced-tea spoon, bearing a cauliflower fondant topped with caviar and a sprig of dill. A pheasant-filled beignet kissed with a delicate vegetable vinaigrette. A tempura baby smelt with red-pepper sauce. An inordinately clever miniature hamburger of wild hare, sandwiched between a disk of fried potato and a barely-cooked quail egg.
And these are just the amusements, mes amis. Dinner is still to come.
Though the elegant trappings and sophisticated food persuade patrons that they're part of something quite grand, dining at Everest is a largely unintimidating experience. The menu is meticulously descriptive, and waiters volunteer further explanations. They're also helpful guides through Everest's outstanding wine list. Everest certainly has plenty of height, but it is refreshingly low on haught.
Salmon souffle, an appetizer, is offered as an homage to Paul Haeberlin, proprietor of Auberge de L'Ill in Alsace, where Joho began his career. The souffle rests atop a generous piece of salmon, which is surrounded by a light reisling sauce.
Joho uses the very expensive carnaroli rice in his risotti and it's difficult to argue with the results -- the texture is flawless and the taste is addictive, especially in the version that is inlaid with black trumpet mushrooms and topped with several plump pieces of earthy quail.
Two soups on the menu are unforgettable. Wild mushroom consomme is marvelous, a liquid essence of trumpet and portobello mushrooms so rich that you can't believe it's meatless. Roasted chestnut soup is to die for, its distinctly sweet undercurrent nicely bolstered by pieces of duck confit.
A simple green salad is impressive for its top-notch components. I found the root vegetable tartare unthrilling, even as I marveled at the ingenuity of this arrangement of finely diced root vegetables wrapped in a cucumber border.
Pheasant breast arrives pink and moist within a wrapping of savoy cabbage. Pristine halibut, roasted in a potato crust and aggressively seasoned with thyme, is pure, pearly pleasure.
Filet-tender venison gets an Old-World treatment, matched with wild huckleberries, wilted cabbage and knefla, which are more or less Alsatian spaetzel, though with a touch of cheese.
Beautifully rare slices of wild hare arrive at the table with a warning: The waiter deadpans that, because the hare was killed in the wild, I should watch out for buckshot. Levity aside, this meat clearly did not belong to some pampered bunny; this is full-flavored, rich hare, though marvelously tender. Topping the slices are sauteed young grapes, providing a tart highlight to the dish.
Everest is one of the few restaurants in town that does not worship chocolate. There is but one chocolate dessert -- but that is Joho's fantasy of chocolate, a five- to six-chocolate assortment that would satisfy any addict.
For others, there is a marvelous pear charlotte in a crust of sourdough brioche with cinnamon, a passionfruit mousse (more like passionfruit creme) topped with caramelized bananas, and a napoleon of apples with caramel sauce. A standout selection is the pineapple streudel, baked with caramelized macadamia nuts and served with coconut ice cream and mango coulis.
Though not mentioned on the menu, an assortment of American cheeses (Joho buys American in nearly every instance) is always available. A highlight of our sampling was a Kentucky goat cheese dubbed Wabash Cannonball (apparently the goats involved are fed a steady diet of bluegrass).
Service pampers diners with discreet attention, quietly making everything happen exactly when it should.
Naturally, this high-flying restaurant has prices equal to its lofty stature. But at Everest the value (a term not synonymous with inexpensive, though it's often used that way) is sky-high, too.
Everest
440 S. La Salle St., 40th Floor
312-663-8920
Phil Vettel is the Chicago Tribune restaurant critic.
Originally pubished Feb. 3, 1995; update added June 5, 2006
