I was so saddened to hear of the death of Charlie Trotter yesterday - and at such a young age of 54! Having lived in Chicago for six years in the early 90s, I remember his meteoric rise to culinary kingship, long before Food Network launched its slate of famous chefs. My husband and I rented our first apartment off Lincoln Park Avenue, at the corner of Armitage - which was just a short walk to Trotter's eponymous restaurant. Talk about a dining experience! I wasn't a Christian at that time, but I can say that my one night sitting at a coveted table in that small restaurant was as close to a religious experience as I had ever had. I remember it like it was yesterday!
At the time, I was working as a high-powered corporate attorney, doing my best to become a cultured, urban woman of the world. I had never heard of Charlie Trotter, but somehow my mother had learned of him and his unique cooking style, probably through his stint on PBS - plus she is a huge gourmet food lover, having been a worshipper of Julia Child back in the 70s. I did a bit of research and quickly learned that eating at Charlie Trotter's was not an every night occurrence. Reservations had to be made months (and I mean months) in advance and under NO CIRCUMSTANCES would you dare cancel (unless you were literally going into labor - more on that later). Mom's greatest wish was for us all to go out for an evening of fine dining (sans Dad who likes to eat, but could be satisfied with a jar of peanut butter and a handful of crackers), and so I obediently made the all-important reservation. The five of us (Mom, my husband and I, and my two sisters) took the short drive to 816 W Armitage Drive and had the experience of a lifetime!
Dégustation. That word was plastered all over the menu, and I had no idea what it meant. Basically, it is a french term that means the following (thanks to Wikipedia): a careful, appreciative tasting of various foods and focusing on the gustatory system, the senses, high culinary art and good company. Dégustation is more likely to involve sampling small portions of all of a chef's signature dishes in one sitting. Usually consisting of eight or more courses, it may be accompanied by a matching wine degustation which complements each dish.
Now, you must know that I come from the South where a gourmet meal is served family style, meaning the serving dishes are set out on the table or a buffet, and everything is heaped on one plate with the goal of eating as fast as possible through several swallows of sweet tea.Once the plate is licked clean (or sopped up with the remnants of a biscuit), the glutton crawls to the easy chair (or stretches out on the floor) where the top button of the trousers is opened for the digestion to begin - all while watching a family TV show. About an hour later dessert is served - always with ice cream or cool whip. Bedtime is preceded by much belching and a request for antacid or seltzer water. Not so at Charlie Trotter's!
First of all, there were things on the menu I had never seen and never imagined I would put in my mouth, but I took a chance and indulged. Despite the steep menu price (gulp - but Mom was paying!), we all ordered the dégustation and embarked on the most amazing culinary ride imaginable. Eight to nine courses of the most beautifully presented, exquisitely prepared, and delicious dishes that defied anything I could've dreamt of eating! Each dish was like a work of art - just a small portion - but the perfect amount to satisfy, yet leaving you wanting more. Four hours later, with much wine and dessert, all of us found that we were pleasantly full but not stuffed, relaxed but not tipsy, and elated from the climactic experience. I felt as though we had been entertained with our own private symphony conducted by Mozart himself.
When the check came, it was so large that the credit card company called my dad to make sure his card hadn't been stolen - how funny! Dad thought Mom was nuts to spend that kind of money on food when peanut butter and crackers would suffice. But he didn't understand, and still doesn't. It wasn't just the food - it was the experience, the presentation, the extended time it took to savor every gorgeous dish, the ambiance, the notion that we were eating like the kings and queens of old - better even! It is one of the most wonderful gifts my mother has ever given me!
Several years later, Mom wanted to go back - and this time, reserve the coveted table IN THE KITCHEN, where we could watch and breathe the same air as the magical Charlie Trotter! Without hesitation, I made the reservation and the date was set - but alas, our son decided to enter the world a bit early. Boo hoo! Mom always teased him that one day she would take him to Charlie Trotter's and have that celebratory meal in that famous kitchen. But it wasn't meant to be. The restaurant closed some years ago, and now Charlie Trotter is no more.
What a great gift Mr. Trotter gave us that night many years ago. I could tell he put great love and attention in the preparation of every dish and it was certainly appreciated. I will always have fond memories of him and hope that his great passion for the dégustation will be passed on to the next generation of culinary wizards, if it hasn't already.
Charlie Trotter, rest in peace! You will be greatly missed!
