Of Spring and Sprout--Dale Levitski Comes Into His Own

Possums, as you know only too well, we love nothing better than saying, “We told you so.” And possums, we told you so, and we’ll tell you again—Dale Levitski, of Top Chef: Miami, wuz robbed!

These aren’t just the ravings of a tottering-on-Louboutins fan. We have the evidence to prove it. Well, actually, we ate the evidence, but there is nothing we’d like better than to go in search of more at Sprout, the new Chicago restaurant headed by Dale. The meal we ate there was among the most delicious and stimulating we have had in years, and even though it’s been a couple of months since our visit, we think about that meal all the time.

From the fabulous, “crowdsourced” décor to the ultra-accommodating staff, I knew a mere six steps into Sprout, located in Lincoln Park, that we were in for an exceptional dining experience. The setting is relaxed luxury, and lives up to Sprout’s own philosophy of offering “upscale dining with a relax-your-shoulders vibe.”

The Executive Chef of Sprout is Amuse-Biatch favorite Dale Levitski, and while still in its infancy, Sprout has the feel of a well-honed, long-running operation. Sprout’s Sous Chef is the talented Sara Nguyen, also of Top Chef fame. Sara is as gracious and welcoming as she appeared on screen, and the best thing is that, together, she and Dale have the same culinary chemistry and rhythm they exhibited while dancing on the balcony in Miami during Top Chef.

While Sprout’s menu is geared toward an organic-focused $60 prix fixe tasting menu, including intermezzi, à la carte items are available as well. My dining companion and I both opted for the prix fixe menu. My first course was a cooked-to-perfection scallop, surrounded by freeze-dried corn, parsnip, and popcorn. This was a toothsome dish composed of a witty series of pairings, the texture and color of the caramelized scallop picked up by the parsnip, the sweetness of the scallop picked up by the corn, with crunch added by the popcorn. For her first course, my dining companion, a vegetarian, chose a pear salad featuring watercress, goat cheese, peppermint and shaved licorice root. It was an exquisitely composed plate of food, both visually and flavor-wise. (Indeed, the great thing was that my dining companion was able to find a superb vegetarian dish for every course.) In case we had any doubts, the first course announced loud and clear that we were in the hands of someone who is absolutely on his game.

For the main course, I selected the Wagyu beef. Set atop pillowy, rich brandade and haricots verts, with a garlic drizzle, the beef was luscious and vibrant. When presented with the opportunity, I could not resist sampling two additional courses. First there was chilled octopus served with white bean puree and arugula—the octopus perfectly cooked, and perfectly complemented by the richness of the puree and the slight bitterness of the arugula. Dale has a real talent for mixing not only flavors, but textures. There was also a course of veal cheek, which was richness and opulence distilled. We also had a tasting of gnocchi à la Parisienne, French-style gnocchi that are made with choux pastry rather than potatoes, which were new to me and which made me curse all the years I had gone without trying them.

In between the courses, the intermezzi included a shaved ice of passion fruit and Riesling, at once bracing and seductive. Speaking of which, the white bean butter served with the bread is nothing short of creamy crack.

My dessert course was called “lemon.” There are no words. The combination of the lemon curd, goat cheese mousse and sour cherry, while surprisingly new to me, rendered me speechless—a difficult thing—and is now one of my favorites. My dining companion opted for creamy melted chocolate with a dunk-worthy cookie.

The cheese course was witty and the ne plus ultra of comfort food, the cheese melted and sandwiched between two crêpe-like crisps, the perfect end to a truly memorable meal.

As reported elsewhere, Dale went through a great deal of difficulty and sorrow in his personal life in the period between Top Chef and the opening of Sprout, but you wouldn’t know it from the polished, effortless cooking. Or maybe you would. Perhaps food this joyous, this focused, this representative of earthly delight, could only come from a man who has emerged from a dark night of the soul. Sprout could not be more aptly named, and we are all the beneficiaries of those tender shoots. Speaking of which, the new spring menu should now be in place, so get thee to Lincoln Park, possums. Dale may have been robbed, but don’t rob yourselves of an extraordinary dining experience.

Sprout

1417 West Fullerton Avenue

Chicago, IL 60614-2011

(773) 348-0706

Find them online:

http://www.sproutrestaurant.com

http://thesproutcrowd.com

Sprout can also be found on Facebook and Twitter @SproutChi

Which Cheftestant Used the Services of a Texas Henry Higgins?

From The Dallas Morning News:

The Voice and Speech Trainers Association...estimates that a third of its members now work with the general public rather than sticking with actors and voiceover artists.

"I've trained doctors. I've trained CEOs. I've even trained one of the contestants on Top Chef," said Bettye Zoller, a Dallas-based voice coach....

"They may not admit it, but a lot of very successful people have gotten voice coaching...."

Well, since this is in Dallas, our first guesses are Casey Thompson or Tre Wilcox from Season 3, but of course we don't know. If any of you, possums, has a tip about this, feel free to email us. Discretion guaranteed.

Tom Colicchio: “You’ll Never Beat the Cast from Season 3”

This, at least, is what the Ursus Major told Dale Levitski’s mother at the finale of Season 3, held in Chicago just before filming on Season 4 started, as Dale recounts in a new interview with Chicagoist.

Oddly enough, we had of late found ourselves missing those Miami folks. Not that this photograph of Brian MFMalarkey (sans chapeau!) as the Karate-You've-Got-to-Be-Kidding-Me from this past weekend had anything to do with it.

And you know, possums, we did find it terribly telling that this season hasn't been the subject of hyperbolic praise for how much better the contestants are. Most telling of all: Tom saying during Judges' Table on last week's episode that we were in for a "nice" season. Ouch! Don't be so enthusiastic there, Papa Bear.

Other interesting tidbits from Dale's interview:

* He's still living with Season 3's Sara Nguyen, but they don't have cable.

* Of Hung Huynh's victory: "I won, but he got the check."

* He was supposed to appear on Season 4, but had a conflict of interest because it was he who had recommended eventual winner Stephanie Izard to producers.

* His new restaurant still needs investment money. Perhaps certain men from certain Bravo reality shows would be better served by putting their money into a new restaurant venture from a talented chef than by spending it on life-sized plastic dolls who claim to be 29 (yeah, right). So come on, sugar daddies, pony up.

Amuse-Biatch Heterosexual Monday: Casey Thompson Gets “Horny” While Playing Peekaboob on the Beach

Oh, don’t mind the headline, possums. Season 3 finalist Casey Thompson, pictured here on a recent jaunt to the beach in the Hamptons, is, as we know all too well, nothing if not a good sport. Says she: “Hey, give a girl a break! I haven’t had a beach vacation in years…; it was a really fun time. As for the tattoo, we all had some college moments we would like to forget…”

New York City Possums: Wanna Have a Ball with CJ Jacobson?

Well, possums, it is Heterosexual Monday on Amuse-Biatch, and in that spirit, what could be more apropos than free beer and barbecue, music by Islands, and the company of a 6'8", "ungay" former beach volleyball player? Yes, indeed, possums, CJ Jacobson, the cheftestant cum Padma Lakshmi crush object from Top Chef: Miami is joining forces with New York Magazine to host a Highbrow BBQ this coming Saturday, August 23, in New York City (have a look at the flyer below for details). A ticket costs $25, and if you would like to purchase tickets, have a click at www.nymag.com/nyxny.

But...

We have a pair of tickets to give away. So, if you live in New York and are free this Saturday, do throw your hat in the ring.

This being a Highbrow BBQ, we figured we ought to ask a highbrow sort of question. So, what is the name of the cake or cookie that unlocks memory when dipped in tea in Marcel Proust's Remembrance of Things Past? The first person to email us with the correct answer wins the tickets; deadline is 5 p.m. Eastern, tomorrow, Tuesday, August 19. Bonne chance, possums.

Amuse-Biatch Photoessay: The Tragedy of Christopher Ciccone: Avenged!

You may remember, possums, that when Christopher Ciccone accountably appeared as a designer during the Restaurant Wars episode of Top Chef: Miami, we channeled Rupert Everett to give you a taste of the tragedy of the pudgy, washed-up, gay bro. Chrissy has now struck back with a tell-all book in which he doesn’t tell all that much—but the first rule of Madonna Club is that you don’t talk about Madonna Club, or Madonna clubs you. Interestingly enough, Madonna’s friend Sandra Bernhard, says that “Madge has a lot of money and that she should’ve put some aside for him and then this wouldn’t have happened.” Write all the Chrissy-Hissy you want, Chris, but for what it’s worth, we think that, as the photo above shows, time most definitely does not heal all wounds, and that makes it the best avenger of all.

Breaking News: Casey Thompson's Beaver Boots Are Hitting the Road

Season 3 finalist and all-around good sport Casey Thompson is leaving her position as executive chef at Dallas restaurant Shinsei. In what we promise will be the last time we use this excruciating pun, Casey was asked where she was going, but Shinsei. Good luck, bonne chance, and buena suerte, Beaver Boots. Vaya con Dios, or rather, con su cholo Jesus.

Miss XaXa Wuz Definitely Not Robbed

Hung Huyhn Comes Out...

...as Asian-American.

(Hey, Antonia "Chinese Restaurant" Lofaso, you might want to watch this.)

Amuse-Biatch Public Service Announcement: Help Dale Levitski Get Laid

Ahoy, MFMatey!: The Return of Brian MFMalarkey

Reading and writing about Casey "Beaver Boots" Thompson, and then turning our gaze to the current season's mostly lusterless roster of cheftestants, made us, we confess, ache with nostalgia for Season 3.

In fact, so dire is our nostalgia that we even began wondering about one of our all-time favorites, Brian "Asshat" MFMalarkey, who managed to combine Spike Mendelsohn's penchant for repellent headwear with Ryan Scott's prettiness, loquacity and smarm. Indeed, the fact that it takes two of this season's cheftestants to gather up the personality of one cheftestant from last season may say all that needs to be said.

Imagine our bliss, possums, when we discovered that MFMalarkey has started to post videos of himself on YouTube. One occasionally reads about drug users dying from taking heroin that is too pure and unadulterated, and we feared the same might happen to us after viewing this clip. It's all there--the not-to-be-believed hats, the loquacity, the smarm, the self-regard, the preposterous homoeroticism, and, as a bonus, a laugh so maniacal that it might have come from the very attic of Mr. Rochester's house in Jane Eyre. Enjoy!

Casey Thompson’s Beaver Boots Will Walk All Over You (and the Riffraff)

Beaver Boots is back, possums, and how we've missed her.

Last season, as is our wont, we needled and teased and mocked Casey Thompson, but she had a good sense of humor and, after reading the blog, rolled with the punches. She definitely earned our respect and admiration, and was extremely gracious to (beaver) boot when our own Miss XaXa and The Big Shamu of The Karmic Kitchen went to Dallas and dropped in on her.

And now, in a new interview on Slashfood, Casey is, appropriately enough, doing a little slashing herself:

What do you think about this season of Top Chef? Are you watching?

I'm supposed to be blogging this season, but I have not have time. I've tried to sit down and watch the first couple shows. The third and fourth I could not get to. I was a little disgusted by their behavior. There are some really strong chefs but I also think there is a lot of riff-raff that they need to get through – those that don't seem to have the experience. They may have worked for some restaurant in New York City, but it may not have even been good. For some, I can't believe what they came up with, and I can't believe they haven't been eliminated yet. But I think that eventually once those clear out we are going to see some really good cooking from some of the better contestants.

Putting our Spelling Bee-atch cap on, we thought we detected a mistake. Isn't "riffraff" actually spelled "N-I-K-K-I C-A-S-C-O-N-E"?

Amuse-Biatch Goes Apocalyptic: The End Is Nigh!

Or so we hear, possums.

According to what sounds very much like a press release, the first part of the Top Chef finale, filmed in Aspen, Colorado, will air on September 26.

On October 3, the second part of the finale will reveal the winner "LIVE from Chicago," where Season 4, according to another report we read, is scheduled to start filming this month.

The end, then, is mercifully near.

As for tomorrow night's episode, our pal Lesley at Eater LA has done a little Sherlocking to uncover their "secret" destination. Check it out.

Tell Tuesday: The Voices in Sam Talbot's Head Carry, Racially Harass Casey Thompson, and Tell Him Season 3 Sucks

Possums, if we were to run into Sam Talbot, we would welcome him to the dark side, and tell him to bring in da noise, bring in da snark. Not that he needs much encouragement, to judge by his latest Bravo blog post. For starters, take a look at this:

Every now and then (back when I actually had a job) I used to jump on the line when we were in the weeds. The guys that worked my line had a real sense of pride about their skills. All lines do -- at least good ones. So to earn their respect, you have to really bring it. When I saw what Casey did (or was trying to do) with that onion, I could hear them in my head yelling "Pinche Gringa!"

For those who need a translation, "pinche gringa" (see, Sam, no need to capitalize) means, "Fucking gringa." But kudos, Sammy; other than the minor capitalization error, the racial invective is perfect.

Well, we do have one quibble. Though it's a perfectly plausible and grammatically correct ejaculation, it did strike us as a bit of a projection and not quite the first curse a Mexican line cook would reach for. Maybe the voices in our head aren't as racist, but we would have gone with something more along the lines of "pinche güera babosa." That seems to us more likely, but, hey, good start, Sammy.

More fascinating still was this admission from Sammy, which seems to violate Rupert Everett's Unspoken Hollywood Rule--Think it, but don't say it:

As it gets closer to the finale, there's something I can't quite put my finger on about this season -- something's just a little off. Or missing. Maybe the chefs don't care as much about the title of Top Chef as they care about the exposure? Maybe they like each other so much they're sorry to send people home? Maybe it's the hot tub and the mojitos. I'm not sure. I guess we'll see.

Well, well. It would appear steamy Sammy is still steamed about not winning last season. But here's the thing: he's right. There is something off about this season. While last season's whole Stanford Experiment vibe with swamp bitches ready to tear out each other's throats may have been too much, maybe there is something to be said for bunk beds and no air conditioning (let us not forget that Project Runway, held up as a model for mixing drama with sewing skills in a morally palatable way, comes by its drama in part by having the contestants spend long, sweltering summer days in New York City without any air conditioning because the sound of the AC interferes with the recording of dialogue) instead of art-designed beds, hot tubs, and Jonathan Adler vases.

First Reaction: Fried or (Half) Baked?

Oh, possums, just when she was doing so well....

Watching Top Chef: 4 Star All Stars (surprisingly, it was not subtitled, “The Grudge”), we were paralyzed for many reasons (about which we will have much more to say later). But it was the 28th Most Beautiful Lady in the World, Padma Lakshmi, who gave us the biggest jolt of botulinum.

Her hair looked good. Her clothes were sexy but tasteful—the black polka dot dress looked good, the pants ensemble looked good, the cinnamon-colored dress looked good. Heck, even her scar looked good. No hot pants, Ugg boots, or shearling vests in sight.

Our unfurrowed brow began to furrow.

And then she corrected Marcel’s pronunciation of “gelée,” just as we were in mid-wince after hearing “jell-EE.”

Aghast, the twin figures of Henry Higgins and Mr. Blackwell, who daily battle for such scraps of our soul as remain, stood mute.

Would there be anything for us to do on Season 3? Would we have to retire? Would we be perennially doomed to sweetness and light?

Fortunately (for us, at least), last night’s premiere of Season 3 revealed that there is, indeed, a reason for us to go on living. You ought to have seen the grin of relief on our basement-dweller faces, possums, as she mispronounced “amuse-bouche” yet again. Ah-MOOZE? That’s nooze to us.

And then, of course, she went on to utter the immortal line of the night, “You could fry my toe, and batter it well, and it would taste good.”

Though Tom Colicchio rolled his eyes, we positively purred. We may well have cackled. Miss XaXa, momentarily lulled into compassion by the booze, pleaded, “Come on, give her a break. She’s still making progress.”

Remembering those hot pants from last season, we had to concur. From camel-toe to fried toe is quite a journey indeed.

Is it any wonder she married the man who wrote The Ground Beneath Her Feet? (We will have much more to say about this as well; here and now we call Top Chef 3, “The Foot Fetishist’s Season.”)

Still, Padma, fried or baked, we’ve missed you, possum. Welcome back. And to you, possums, we say, as our other theme for the season, “Welcome to Meowmi.”

P.S. Regular posting will follow, including a full-fledged, Amuse-Biatch recap.

Raggaydy Andy Falls On His Sword to Make "Top Chef 3" A Reality

Well, possums, the sword was made of chocolate, and it was actually a knife, and it was made by an aspiring cheftestant, but after all these days of not posting, we had to grab your attention somehow.

At any rate, on today's edition of his blog, Bravo VP and online salonnière Raggaydy Andy Cohen shares the sacrifices he has been making for the sake of Top Chef:

Speaking of casting, I spent the weekend cooped up in a hotel by the airport in final callbacks for "Top Chef 3" and I can report that it is exactly what I wanted to be doing when it was 86 and sunny outside. Not. But despite my enthusiasm for airport-adjacent hotel-interiors, I made the very best of it.

We met over 30 amazing chefs from all over the country who all think they have what it takes to be Top Chef. I woulda thought they all would have brought us food, wouldn't you? One woman made us each chocolate knives that said "Top Chef 3". She mysteriously made them using the coffee maker in her room. I still don't get it AT ALL but I was in the restroom when she went into the nuts and bolts of how she pulled it off. I have a feeling that even if I had heard the explanation I would not get it. The knives were good though.

This was definitely the most talented group of call-backs we've culled the cast from, and it's encouraging that people that talented want to participate....

Just that those 30 or so chefs made it that far was a big accomplishment, and we're still haggling amongst ourselves about which dozen or so will make it to Miami....