Look Ma, I'm a Trendoid: Pasha, Chicago

Look Ma, I'm a Trendoid: Pasha, Chicago

After an entertaining set of Harold Pinter one-acts (one directed by Kerensa P), The Wife and I weren't that hungry so we thought we'd head home, but saw Fogo de Chao and, out of curiosity, strolled in to see huge lines, huge meats, and other huge things. Interesting, but only mildly appetizing. However, with food now firmly on the brain, we went wandering, and came upon Pasha. "Indian?" I queried. "Sounds like," said The Wife.

The doorman informed us the food was French/Italian, and a vivacious blonde who lived upstairs was coming out and gushed that she loved the place, especially the duck "but I can't remember the name (tee-hee, giggle)," and the owners are "great neighbors" (!). Swept under the juggernaut of that four-star recommendation, The Wife inclined to the door. "Want to go in?" she asked. "Okay," I complied without overt objection.

Inside, I realized that this is the kind of place The Wife and I used to go all the time before I had even the marginal appreciation for authentic chow that I now so admire in myself. Pasha has loads of style, a bevy of blondes, and a thin veneer of Northside trenditude.

There is every reason to be suspicious about this place. It looks like it was designed by the same guy who did Vivere, with lots of vinous Art Nouveau type organic swirls, Marche-type stage curtains, and fluted yellow glass.

Coming in the door, I told Pretty Lady #1 that there were two of us. She asked if we had reservations. I glanced around (there were maybe ten people in a room that could hold 150-200) and, smiling, said I did not. Looking more bemused and concerned than did the Amazonian Carol Haley the day I asked her to the Freshman Prom, Pretty Lady #1 turned to whisper to Pretty Lady #2, who again asked me if I had a reservation. Mentally running through alternative ways of saying no, I decided to stick with the old standby, and with that, relenting, they showed us to our table, a two-seater near the bandstand (empty of people but full of congas and guitars).

Wary, I determined to minimize my exposure, and went with a platter of Mussels in Saffron ($8.00). Upon serving me, Pretty Lady #3 asked if I wanted something flaming on it, and I said sure (which is what I usually say to pretty ladies who ask me if I want anything) and she lit what I came to believe was armagnac and poured it over the mussels. These were the best mussels I've had in a very long time. A few dozen plumped to the size of fava beans, pinkish beige, sweet, tender, not at all stringy, very fresh, and highly flavorful in a tomato concasse and saffron sauce. With above-average French bread to sop up mussel drippings, this was an excellent way to spend eight bucks. With a vodka martini, this could easily have been dinner for me. Relatively simple and delicious.

The Wife went with the Crab Cake Sushimi (sic) Terrine ($11), which was basically just chilled stone crab, wrapped in lox-like salmon, with a slice of tuna kind of hidden in the center like the Baby Jesus in a King Cake. In a tomato balsamic relish and three fried strings poking antenna-like from the terrine, this was a fun-looking and good dish. It was also hugely simple, and that is what actually impressed me about both dishes. Despite the surroundings, this was very good food: high quality ingredients, simply prepared to let the natural goodness shine through. Not what I was expecting, I'm glad to say.

Between courses, The Wife went to the Ladies Room, and reported back that there was a Champagne Bar in there. Later, I found this is part of Pasha's mystique; you can consume a Pasha beverage where others seek relief from same. Sounds nuts to me, but apparently it appeals to Second City's Carrie/Samantha/Amada/Charlotte wannabes. This is definitely a girl thing and I can't imagine a guy's bathroom having a built-in bar (actually, come to think of it, I can, but most of those places closed in the mid-80's).

As I mentioned, I wasn't really hungry when I walked in, so we just split a Duck Robespierre ($22), which was, again, very simple: duck smoked with rosemary, thyme and bay leaves, and resting on a bed of vinegared arugula. The duck was very meaty, cooked pink and moist, and the crisp fat was highly flavorful and tasty. I like duck a lot, never make it at home, so I order it regularly; like the mussels, this was the best version of this meat I've had in a very long time; as with the other dishes, I couldn't have been more pleasantly surprised by the honesty and simplicity of these excellent tastes.

Pasha obviously doesn't kick in until much later; we left at 10:00 PM as the band drifted in (they start playing at midnight). The kitchen is officially open until 4:00 AM, but the serving guy said it's usually more like 4:30 AM, with the rest of the place going until 5:00 AM or so. I asked this Spanish-speaking guy what kind of music was on the bill, and he said what sounded like Zipcykin. I thought that must be some Neo-Baltic Jazz Zydeco or other trend way off my radar. After running the word through my head a few times as I walked into the crisp evening, I realized that he was probably saying "Gypsy Kings."

Pasha
642 N Clark
Chicago
312-397-0100

Hi,

Nice write up. I don't know how I missed this the first time around, this sounds like a find. If you come early enough, then you have the place to yourself and very good food.

Thanks for an interesting alternative in that area.

Regards,