Sharing a Little Dream

As the waiter alluded to the progeny of the building -- one passing tenant after another -- I thought back to a conversation earlier in the week about three properties in the Des Moines area that are to restaurants what Elizabeth Taylor is to husbands.

On this Wednesday night in Chicago, however, the signs are promising for a longer lease.  Researching where all we might pause in our little culinary breeze through the Windy City, I began reading about a particular Italian restaurant listed among the "slow-food" establishments in town.  The restaurant continued to get good revues even though the young chef credited with developing the dining experience into its current prominence had left to pursue his dream of a restaurant of his own -- his "Piccolo Sogno" -- or "little dream."  He sounded like someone I would like to follow -- no offense intended to the restaurant he had left.

And so with reservations in advance, we endured the cab driver's flustered U-turns executed trying to locate the precise address, and presented ourselves to the hostess.  For the rest of the evening the motion was reversed, the restaurant -- and that young chef -- presenting themselves to us.  From the Parmesan and -- if I can trust my taste buds -- fennel-dusted breadsticks presented as we were seated, to the Hazelnut cake and berried panna cotta at the end, and everything in between, it was an alimentary delight.  The beet and goat cheese salad; the homemade pastas with boar ragu and the one with mushrooms and truffle oil; the sea bass, and Eduardo, our carefully attentive personal attendant.  I know he was responsible for other tables and other diners, but it felt like we were the only ones in the room that, in reality, was a din of lively chatter and bustling activity.  And Chef Tony -- the young one whose little dream we were helping him follow -- seemed truly grateful and moved when we told him we had come from Iowa at least in part to seek him out.

My guess is that whoever owns the building will need to get used to a longer-term tenant.  It was -- well -- a dream.

The cab ride back to the hotel was less eventful than the one beginning our evening.  Call it just one more dessert at the end of a perfect day.