Doubt and cynicism stemming
from the Streeterville location and hyperbolic locavore marketing were
shattered by two lunches this week at Local Root, a new casual, quick service
place in a culinary wasteland.
The locavore clichés hit me immediately. Posted on the window outside is a manifesto
about how industrial food is killing everybody and how sustainable restaurants like
this are going to save the world. There’s
talk about carbon footprints and the owners’ passion for sourcing local
ingredients. There’s a massive sign
claiming that Local Root will be a zero-waste restaurant, with every byproduct, presumably from
a melon’s seeds to a customer’s feces, contributing back to the earth in one way
or another. And, of course, there’s a
chalkboard. It lists places like La
Quercia and Traderspont Creamery and others with resonance among slow foodies
and their ilk. There’s also a promise
that deliciousness will be enhanced, not compromised, by the restaurant’s
sustainability vision.
I love La Quercia and Traderspoint, and the values above are values I share; it’s just
that I’ve heard them so many times from counterfeits that my instinct these
days is to discount the claims as marketing gimmick. The thing is, Local Root really seems to be
living the principles, especially the one about deliciousness being paramount. This was apparent when I walked in and saw that
upwards of half the space in the build-out was devoted to kitchen and prep
areas, all of which are open for customers to see. In a part of town like this where lunch
volumes are high, there’s a temptation to maximize seating and waiting areas at
the expense of cooking space. This works
fine when a good percentage of your product is based on crappy, processed stuff
that comes off of a Sysco truck, as is the case at most places in the area. It doesn’t work when you’re making food from
scratch.
At Local Root, even the bread is made from scratch. I couldn’t believe this, but at a prime lunch
hour two staff members were working full time rolling out dough for baguettes
that were about to hit the oven. To
accomplish this, they were using a massive prep table and a workspace as big as
my living room. Impressive devotion.
Everything I ate fell somewhere on the continuum from great to good. Sweet and tangy gazpacho that tasted
of wonderful in-season tomatoes with a little spicy kick was probably my
favorite item. At Local Root, bread
thickens the gazpacho more than in most versions, and the soup is served with
chopped egg. These are both
characterstics of salmorejo, a Spanish gazpacho cousin upon which I suspect
this terrific soup is based. Sweet and
tangy are themes here, and characterized the beet salad that was my second
favorite items, with a thick, maple-balsamic dressing, a mix of earthy and
spicy greens, and crumbles of outstanding blue cheese from Traderspoint
Creamery. A ham sandwich with meat from an
Iowa company called Beeler’s was tasty if not particularly special, served on
one of those impressively house-made baguette’s which could have been a bit
lighter-textured and crisper for my taste.
The fries served with it, however, were exceptional.
I love what the Local Root is doing and will be a frequent
customer. I must admit that I did have
to get over some sticker shock first though.
That ham sandwich with fries was $11.49.
The beet salad was a whopping $9.49.
There’s a La Quercia prosciutto baguette on the menu for $12.49 and duck
confit on brioche for 15 bucks. These prices
might be more expected at trendy sit-down restaurants with similar culinary mindset,
but they’re tough to swallow at a place where the cashier takes your order and
hands you a numbered placard to place on your table until a runner brings the
food. That said, there’s a cost to doing
a restaurant build-out in the way I described above, and this place is employing
a large number of skilled culinary folks, not high school students cooking from
a corporate instruction manual as at so many other places in the area. I want to support that and, more importantly,
I think the quality of the food here is worth the prices.
Local Root
(312) 643-1145
601 N. McClurgwww.localrootchicago.com
Kenny, thank you for your kind words. We look forward to seeing you soon.
ReplyDelete-Isaac Weliver, Chef Local Root.