N9NE Steakhouse - Miss Chicago Steakhouse for June



You could hardly miss this sign.  Oh.  Wait.  You can hardly see this sign.
You better know where you are going.

Good God, here we are back again for another month's dining.  I have some new Facebook friends (read - friends), some of whom may pop in here for the first time.  Here are the posts about what I'm doing this year, and why this post exists.

So far on this journey, I've reviewed Joe's, Keefer's, Gibsons, Morton's, David Burke's Primehouse, and Rosebud Steakhouse.

It's June, which means I'm just now past the halfway point on this project.  I've gotten to eat a lot of really great steak, been out with my wife for many dates we otherwise wouldn't have had, and enjoyed sitting down and describing my experiences through this blog. 

It's so modern, it's like ultra modern...

Believe me, it has been my pleasure.

This month, Amy and I visited N9NE Steakhouse, located at 440 W. Randolph, in the heart of the loop. 

Oh.  Don't forget the links.  They are sometimes funny.  They are also part of my writing. 

I understand from an outside source that these reviews take about 10-20 minutes per to read.  OK.  Fair enough.  Skip the links the first time through, then come back and click them.  They open in separate windows, so you should get through them relatively quickly.  Anyway, thanks for reading.

As I said, this month Amy and I visited N9NE Steakhouse.  As time has gone along, and we are now on our SEVENTH steakhouse in 7 months, the places we visit have started to blend into each other.  Cherry wood trim, leather bound menus, alabaster lights and wet aged steaks are starting to morph into a kind of an all-encompassing zen ritual that we partake in once a month. 

Then we went to N9NE.  Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore. 

The black haired guy in the back is Noel.  Our waiter.

N9NE is not your father's steakhouse.  Hell, it's not even your son's steakhouse.  It is entirely "of itself."  There really is no other way to describe it.  Walking in the door, we were greeted by the host station on our left, with a sheet of a waterfall flowing gently behind it, with the symbol "9" projected into it by a light.  Looking around, it was obvious that this place, while a steakhouse, was unlike any place else we had visited.  The floor was a white terrazzo, looking very dissimilar from a restaurant, and very much like a mall.  The furniture was brushed steel and gray and maroon cloth of some sort.  It wasn't velvet, but it wasn't leather.  Tables were distributed around a central circular bar area, some booths, some tables, some a combination of the two.  The center of the restaurant is a vaulted domed area with reflective silver paint on the ceiling, supported by three columns encrusted in small square mirrors (exactly like a disco ball), and some windows for the ultra chic bar (Ghostbar) upstairs to look into the restaurant.  The lighting in the domed area shifts periodically, so the dome may go from pink to blue to yellow as you dine.  The place could be described as "modern" if I believed that such places existed outside the doors.  Let's call it "artistic."  The atmosphere is definitely unique.  We enjoyed it very much.  The place just felt "alive." 

We were supposed to meet another couple for dinner, but as we were driving in, Amy texted her friend and informed him we might be a couple of minutes (if that) late, and if they got there first, the reservations were under my name.  Since Amy and I don't share a last name, and since Vin probably doesn't know my last name, this is important.  She received a call back saying, "That's tonight?"   Vin had mismarked his calendar, and although he was able to make it, his partner, Fig, was unable to join us.  Too bad for Fig, because I can't imagine looking forward to a night out, then finding out I couldn't go because of a SNAFU in scheduling. 

If you tell me to take a lot of pictures Noel, I will.

On to the meal.  We were seated in a table, relatively close to the bar area, and our extra place setting was cleared away.  Our waiter, a charming, smiling guy named Noel ("Just like Christmas!") with a hint of an accent I'll be damned if I could place, introduced himself to us and took our drink orders.  Noticing my camera, he asked what brought us to N9NE.  Amy explained the project, and what we were doing, and Noel said, "That's great.  Take as many pictures as you like, it's just fine."  I imagine that watching people photograph food has to get old for a waitstaff, but Noel seemed enthusiastic about it.  That was nice. 

Explaining the menu to us, Noel did a hard sell on the "Crustacea" platter on the menu, explaining that it was how "we like to start you out..."   At 25 bucks a head, a $75 appetizer tray seemed a bit much.  Plus, it was a lot of food.  A couple of them came out while we dined, and while they were magnificent to behold, I'm glad we resisted the urge to order it.   We were shown the salads, the seafood, and explained how the steaks are done.  "It's all the broiler guy, and our guy gets it right..."   He also explained a bit of the history of the place, how it got its name (apparently, the owners met each other when they were 9), and how he was a day one employee.  Noel was a terrific waiter, and a hell of a lot of fun. 

Mango Avocado Salad.

Vin and Amy ordered the Mango Avocado Salads to start, I got the Iceberg Wedge.  We also decided upon our sides for the meal.  Amy decided that we would get the Duck Fat Frites (french fries fried in duck fat) AND the Garlic Steak Fries.  Being decided on everything else, we went ahead and ordered our entrees.  I got the Bone in Ribeye (SHOCKING!) medium rare, Vin got the Dry Aged Kansas City Strip (which translates to a bone in New York Strip) medium rare, and Amy ordered the Kobe Flatiron (flank steak) rare. 

Noel came back and asked if we were sure we wanted those sides, as they were pretty much the same thing.  After a moment, we decided instead to get two orders of (2) Crabcakes delivered with our salads in lieu of the Garlic Fries. 

A small basket of bread was brought to the table, and much conversation followed. 

Not too long after, our salads arrived.  Amy's and Vin's salads were exquisite to look at, expertly plated (thanks Food Network) and very much about the presentation. Fresh sliced mangoes were topped with slices of creamy avocados, hints of red onion and thin slices of jalapeno added a hint of heat to the salad. Drizzled with olive oil and dusted with paprika all of the flavors were individually highlighted and still combined into a unique and very fresh flavor. (Amy will be attempting her own version at home later this summer.)  My salad looked like a wedge of lettuce with some ranch dressing on it, bacon bits and cheese.  Just what this simple guy wanted.  I enjoyed my salad very much.  The lettuce was ultra crisp, and the dressing, while present, was a complement to the lettuce rather than overwhelming it.  I dislike foods that are "vessels" for other tastes.  Don't slather something in sauce, then tell me how great the food underneath it tastes.  What that tells me is that if you could get away with it, you'd rather stick your hand in a jar full of the sauce a la Winnie The Pooh and his Hunny Pot, and you are using the food as a handy way to convey the taste to you. 

I digress.  I enjoyed my salad very much. 

Crabby.

The crabcakes arrived a short while later, and as I have reported, in the last year I have gotten over my personal disdain for all things shellfish.  At N9NE I was reminded why I had that disdain in the first place.  The crabcakes I ate in Baltimore were delicious.  Those at N9NE were a little too tangy (read - crabby) for my preference.  Drizzled with an orange sauce I can't quite identify, there was a lot of crab meat in the cakes, but the overall flavor was a little too overpowering for my palate.  I suppose if I had a deeper fondness for crab, I might have enjoyed them, but I didn't care for what I ate. 

This is my steak.  The bone in ribeye.  Fatty.  Like me.

A short while later the main event arrived.  The steaks.  And the frites.  Noel included a plate of the Garlic Steak Fries as well, on the house.  First the fries.  The Garlic Fries were damned tasty.  Soft, yet with a crispy exterior, the garlic announced itself, but didn't overpower the fries.  The Duck Fat Frites were different than I expected.  I expected shoestring size fries, but they were standard french fries.  We tried both, and ultimately, I think more of the Garlic Fries were consumed.

Amy's Kobe Flatiron steak.  Tasty, tasty.

Now.  The steaks.  Cooked in a broiler that Noel informed me reaches 1200 degrees, our steaks were charred to what appeared to be perfection.  An odd moment then occurred.  My steak looked a hell of a lot like a strip, and Vin's looked a hell of a lot like a ribeye.  Much trepidation followed, including asking Noel back over to confirm.  It was confirmed that we had, indeed, received the right steaks.  Amy's flatiron steak was easy to recognize.  Precarved, her steak was a delicious looking shade of red with a slightly charred crust on the outside.  Noel asked if they were cooked to our liking at which point I showed him the fork test for elasticity I like to do.  I placed my fork on top of my steak and gently moved it around, showing him that it was cooked correctly.  He then showed ME a test I had never seen before.  Take your hand and make an "OK" sign with your index finger and thumb.  Feel the flesh that is the pad at the bottom of your thumb with your other index finger.  With your index finger and thumb in the "OK" sign, that is what "rare" should feel like.  Change to your middle finger and thumb, feel it again, and that is "medium rare."  Ring finger is "medium" and pinky is "well done."  As you change fingers, the muscles behind the skin tighten.  I'd never seen that before, but it is pretty spot on.  

Vin's Dry Aged Kansas City Strip.  Cooked to perfection.

Back to the steaks.  My steak was cooked to perfection, as was Vin's.  We each shared a sample of each other's steaks, (although I was pretty stingy with mine), and we each decided we liked our own steaks the best.  Vin's steak was dry aged, so it had a slightly more gamey taste to it, but it was cooked to perfection, silky for a strip, and surprisingly flavorful.  He thoroughly enjoyed it.  Amy's flatiron steak was very tender for flank steak, probably owing to it being Kobe beef, and its rare temperature.  I liked the way it fought back a little while being chewed, but was ultimately very soft for as grainy a steak as flank steak is.  Amy complained a little while into it that she should know better than to get things cooked "rare," but I think any more heat would have made her steak a little tougher.  Had it been me ordering it, I'd have considered it perfect. 

My steak was delicious.  As previously reported ad nauseum, ribeye is the most flavorful cut of steak.  Because it's loaded with fat.  Not "marbling."  Fucking fat.  Tasty, tasty fat.  A little light on the char, my steak was melt in your mouth tender, thick enough to satisfy my more base "eat lots food" desires, and just generally great.  Again.  I'm getting bored with eating fabulous steak.  Wait.  Scratch that.  Reverse it.  I'm NOT getting bored with eating fabulous steak.  The steak was not as good as what I had at Gibsons (again...), but N9NE serves up a hell of a good cut of meat. 

Amy's dessert.  Simply called "Chocolate."

We finished our entrees.  Check that.  I finished mine.  Amy and Vin saved some of each of theirs for later.  It was now time for dessert.  The dessert menu had lots of odd desserts on it and lots of steakhouse standards.  One of the items on it that I really wanted to get was Cotton Candy.  It came on a steel stand, from a home spun cotton candy machine, served with 3 tiny ice cream cones and a chocolate pretzel.  It was, without a doubt, built to share.  My dining mates didn't want it, and there was no way I was going to try it on my own.  I wound up ordering the Root Beer Float, which was supposed to be accompanied by 2 warm (foreshadowing kids, foreshadowing) chocolate chip cookies.  Amy got the dessert called "Chocolate," and Vin got the Pecan Square. 

My float arrived in a tall pilsner glass.  Utilizing Goose Island Brewery Root Beer, the glass had two small scoops of ice cream floating in the liquid, one a cinnamon and one which was vanilla.  P'raps it was the nature of the glass, but I wound up eating the ice cream in two bites, with very little root beer to complement it.  The root beer I then drank was not just root beer, so I assume a lot of the ice cream was distributed throughout the remaining liquid.  You're here for my opinion.  The float was OK.  Nothing special.  The chocolate chip cookies were not warm.   They also were pretty hard.  Sending them back wouldn't have helped that, so I chose to ignore them.   Amy's "Chocolate" dessert was a chocolate mousse cake with a scoop of Fudgesicle sorbet on top of it.  Wonderfully light, her dessert was magnificent.  Magnificent to look at, magnificent to eat, just magnificent.  Vin's Pecan Square was, from the reports I got, equally magnificent.  I don't go for pecans, so I didn't try it, but it was apparently a warm delicious pecan pie.  Cut in a square.  Clever. 

Watery signage.

The meal was over.  We had thoroughly enjoyed another evening of "fooding."  Because that was the night was.  Sure, there was steak, but the overall experience was what appeals about N9NE.  And there's a lot of that.  I heartily recommend the place, and would definitely eat there again.  I can think of no higher praise for any venue, artist, etc. than a return visit.  I look forward to returning to N9NE.

OK.  Nuts and bolts.  Pricey.  We bought Vin's dinner.  Our meal was $120 a person.  With no liquor.  Do your own math.

Bathrooms are gorgeous.  Men's bathroom has tiny TV screens above the urinals.  Hey, something to look at besides the wall is ALWAYS welcome. 

Gorgeous atmosphere.  Ultra modern is how Selma Bouvier would describe it....

You are going to enjoy an evening of food.  It's going to take a while to enjoy it.  But enjoy it you will.

That's it.  N9NE is a terrific restaurant.  Go try it.  You won't be disappointed.  I promise.

Next Month:  Fogo de Chao (all you can eat steak - are you kidding me?!)

The requisite photo.  Smiles courtesy of great fooding.