CHICAGO RESTAURANT REVIEW: Crying Tiger
The Windy City has one of the best culinary scenes in the country, right up there alongside New York, Houston, and New Orleans. You can find just about anything there, from the top-ranked restaurant in North America (Smyth), to a stable of Michelin-starred hotspots (Alinea, Ever, etc..), to celebrity chef-driven hotspots (Girl & The Goat, Rose Mary), to iconic fast food (Portillo's, The Original Beef Of Chicagoland), to Chicago-style pizza (Pequod's, Giordano's). Side note: it drives me crazy when people say that deep dish is "not pizza" or "a casserole". Sorry you can't "fold" your "slice" while saying "I'm walkin' here" in "Times Square". Eye roll emoji. So of course, I didn't partake in any of those, instead completing an Asian trifecta of Japanese, Thai, and Chinese cuisines over the three nights I spent in the Midwest.
The middle of those was Crying Tiger, a buzzy, relatively new opening in the River North neighborhood, and one of Chi-Town's toughest reservations to snag (fortunately I am a professional). One of the most gorgeous restaurants I've ever been to, even the façade is impressive, covered in glossy green tile, but the interior is truly spectacular. Emulating an outdoor dinner deep in the tropics, cool colors envelope the twin dining rooms, with long wavy fabrics hanging from the ceiling. Lush green plants and unique artworks add to the lively and remarkable atmosphere. It feels like something of a party in the jungle, and the friendly service enhances the good vibes.
Food here is a mix of warm and chilled appetizers, curries, grilled specialties, and rice/noodle items. The first of a handful of shared starters we tried was the Grilled Wagyu Beef Nam Tok (a Thai meat salad, which I must say is probably the best possible word you could put before salad to make me want to try it) with shaved red onion and mint. A delightfully spicy dressing cried out with lemongrass and fish sauce, and the (intentionally) cool steak danced on the edge of rare. Cilantro and crispy shallots garnished the plate for some freshness and crunch. This is exactly what I'm looking for in Southeast Asian food: fiery, pungent, textural, and delicious.
Despite being the favorite dish of at least one member of our party, I was somewhat underwhelmed by the Hamachi Crudo with bird's eye chili. The fish was sliced adequately, but its combination with the surprisingly not-very-high-on-the-Scoville-scale pepper, more fried shallots, and Thai basil leaves left me wanting more. Perhaps a drizzle of nước chấm to add some funk and umami could have been a nice touch. I will admit, though, that the green fish-shaped glass plate it was served on (atop a bed of ice) was cute.
Better was the Prawn Toast, made using youtiao (aka Chinese donuts). If you are not familiar, these are nothing like what you'd get at Shipley's or Ken's... instead they are long, unsweet fried sticks of dough cut into thick slices with a crispy exterior and a light, airy interior. Often used to dip into things like congee, here they were instead piped full of savory shrimp paste and presented alongside an herb nam jim. That bright and tangy dipping sauce rounded things out rather nicely, and there were more than enough pieces make a few circuits of the four top. I thought this was a really interesting take on a super trendy dish, and one of the superior versions I've tried.
On to some larger plates, such as the Green Curry Roasted Twin Tiger Prawns. These cyclopean crustaceans were quite tender, and the aromatic verdant rub added some herbaceousness and a slight kick. A satisfying entree, to be sure, but unfortunately my admittedly extremely high benchmark for Thai food is the exemplary Street To Kitchen in Houston (now that the dearly departed Ugly Baby in Brooklyn has closed, RIP... EXCEPT WAIT! NOT ANYMORE!! Literally since the time I wrote this a few days ago I learned that it has reopened in Williamsburg! Rejoice!), and they offer a nearly identical dish, which is done better. Unfair to hold them to that bar, maybe, but as Mike Tomlin said, the standard is the standard. I'd suggest the chef take a trip to H-Town to stage under Benchawan Jabthong Painter for some tips and tricks.
A solid crowd-pleaser was the Hong Kong Fried Rice, with lap cheong and shrimp with basil and garlic. I'm a huge fan of sausage, and while I usually choose the big, meaty specimens we have in America (sometimes if I'm feeling particularly adventurous I'll even tackle two at once), the smaller Chinese ones can be a good change of pace. The sliced coin-sized medallions here were sweet with just a tad of heat, a fine complement to the plump shrimp. Sometimes fried rice can lack in flavor, but the aromatics were prominent enough to lift this up to a quite tasty level. This didn't reinvent the wheel or anything, but I would be happy to eat it just about every day.
This might be a scorchingly-hot take, but I think Pad Thai is kind of overrated. Maybe it's because I don't really care for tofu or eggs or peanuts, but I've never been as high on this staple as seemingly everyone else (I recall my friends and roommates constantly ordering it at Madam Mam's on the Drag in Austin and thinking... huh?). CT's version included a half Maine lobster, which was a decadent twist; the cook was nice, resulting in a juicy and firm bite. It was mixed tableside, which I of course enjoyed, as I am a sucker for pageantry. Tamarind added sourness and some finishing accoutrements (bean sprouts, green onions, cilantro) were there for crunch and color. Definitely one of the better variations of this dish I've tried, though there's still a ceiling on it for me.
Those savory dishes were fine and all, but their eponymous signature dessert was an absolute show-stopper. The Crying Tiger was a vanilla sponge cake with wild Thai banana creme encased by a green-dyed white chocolate shell in the shape of the big cat's head, which swam in a burnt orange bananas Foster caramel. Not only was this delectable (that sauce was unreal), but it was unquestionably one of the most beautiful pastries I've seen, with its Legends Of The Hidden Temple-esque regal visage. Asian desserts notoriously don't live up to their Western counterparts, but this one could hold its own anywhere. An obvious must-order.
One other important thing to mention... I don't normally talk about bathrooms, but I have to make an exception, because the ones here are stunning. Downstairs from the restaurant and featuring a massive tiger mosaic and huge marble sink areas, this was the most luxurious WC I've seen since the third floor men's room at the old Saks Fifth Avenue in the Houston Galleria (real ones know).
In addition to the stunning facilities, the subterranean level also houses their sister cocktail den, a stylish 1920's-themed bar called Kitty's Cosmopolitan Club, which I will include in a bonus mini-review here. As you might expect considering their upstairs neighbor, the space is quite well-appointed, with more deep greens along with velvet banquettes and classic light fixtures. However, despite priding themselves on impeccable service, I found that not to be entirely the case.
We had secured a reservation for after dinner, but were made to wait over half an hour beyond the allotted time before being seated. I suspect this was due to another party that overstayed their welcome, but it was still a less-than-auspicious opening salvo. The problems continued when about 25 minutes elapsed between the time we ordered our drinks and the time they arrived. Not sure what the deal was here, I don't think it was the fault of our jovial waitress who was a dead ringer for Randi from Hacks, but still frustrating. They may still be figuring out protocols a few months after opening.
The good news, though, is that the cocktails were solid. They specialize in martini-style libations, prepared and held in "the cold room", a -16°F walk-in freezer bar station, which honestly sounded like a place I wanted to visit after spending all summer in the Houston heat. Speaking of frigid temperatures, the Alaska featured coconut-washed Delord Blanche Armagnac, yellow chartreuse, and orange bitters, icy cool in classic V-shaped stemware. I almost never order martinis because I don't really do gin or vodka for the most part, but the brandy twist on this one made it much more palatable. Still super boozy, but with more sweetness and herbaceousness from the French spirits, I quite enjoyed sipping on this, and appreciated its pale marigold hue. Unfortunately I didn't have time for another round, since with all the delays it was past my bedtime at this point, but here's a photo of a companion's drink as well.
Overall this was a lovely evening, with lots of pros and a few minor cons. Crying Tiger had spectacular decor and an exceptional vibe, even if the food was not entirely destination-worthy. Kitty's exuded cool, and the drinks were strong and well-crafted, though not exactly expeditious. But as a one-two combo separated by a mere 25 or so stair steps, you won't be disappointed, especially as both come into their own the longer they are open.
RANKING UPDATE: Neither supplants their predecessors on my Beyond Houston lists for essential stops in other cities, but after multiple trips to Chiraq, I'm debuting the following list of the top ten places I've been able to try (responsibly limiting myself to one pizza spot). What's left for next time? Too many: Smyth, Oriole, Ever, Kasama, Indienne, Schwa... the list goes on.
Chicago Restaurant Rankings:
- Alinea
- Girl & The Goat
- Lao Peng You
- Pequod's Pizza
- The Purple Pig
- Duck Duck Goat
- Crying Tiger
- Gaijin
- ROOP Chicago
- Au Cheval
NEXT UP: More Southeast Asian food, this time with a Lao bent back in H-Town.