The Playroom is located at 7958 W. Belmont, across from Guerin Prep High School, between Harlem and Cumberland Avenues. It’s a beautiful long room, with a bar along one side, tables and high tops along the other wall, and a small stage in the back. The decor is subdued, tasteful and comfortable. The service is neighborhood friendly and efficient.

Among my favorites are the pasta dishes, especially Pasta Josephine, named after the wife of one of the co-owners. They make a great pizza, wonderful appetizers, and filet of beef sliders that are to die for (excuse the pun from a dying chef).

Best of all, it’s a great place to hang out for middle-aged adults who appreciate good food, drink and music.  One no longer needs to deal with traffic and the Gen-Xers at the hot spots in Lincoln Park, Bucktown, Lakeview, Old Town and Rush Street.

The doctor doesn’t care what I eat, as long as I’m consuming calories. Fat without guilt! That’s true joy.

But as a chef, it’s one of the most unnerving things I’ve had to deal with. No matter what I put in my mouth, it didn’t taste like it was supposed to. Luckily I discovered that honey-roasted peanuts, Italian bread and mozzarella cheese tasted just fine. Fortunately, this episode lasted only six weeks and I manage to lose 18 pounds.

Now that the chemo is done, the medications I take to stave off infection (my likely killer) make me queasy. The anti-nausea meds help, but after 51 years, I’ve finally lost my appetite.

I tried watching cooking shows, reading food blogs, eating my mother’s homemade cookies, paging through cooking magazines, and using herbal appetite enhancers. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

When I meet with a new client, we discuss their likes and dislikes so that I can custom-design a menu for them. Some clients have such a long “dislike” list that it’s easier to ask them what they DO like.

What I’ve learned from my nearly seven years as a personal chef is that many people were culinarily abused as children, and that has permanently colored their attitudes about  food.

What constitutes culinary abuse?

* Forcing  children to clean their plates, regardless of the portion sizes or their appetites.

* Sending children to bed without dinner as punishment.

* Using dinner time to discuss difficult issues or to dole out punishment.

* Serving only canned fruits and vegetables. No wonder so many people dislike spinach and asparagus. They’ve never eaten the real stuff.

* Relying on high-sodium, preservative-laden “convenience” products like Hamburger Helper, bottled salad dressings, rice and pasta mixes, etc.

* Serving the same  meals week after week after week. One client will not eat succotash or anything with lima beans because canned succotash was the only side dish she was served as a child.

* Lying to children about what they’re eating. My mother once tried to pass off beef liver and onions as minute steaks. My grandmother told me that all mushrooms are poisonous, and fish eat whatever we flush down the toilet.

* Calling a trip to the local fast-food drive-thru  a meal.

* Assuming their child won’t like something because the parents don’t.

* Telling children, especially young girls, that they’re too fat when they’re not.

* Telling children that they’re too thin and should eat more.

* Keeping unhealthy snacks in the  house.  Cookies, chips, candy,  sugared sodas,  and fruit juices have their place as occasional treats, not regular after-school snacks.

* Using food as a pacifier. “Here, eat this cookie, it will make you feel better.”

* Making different dishes for different family members for the same meal.

It’s time to stop the abuse!

Because it’s so early in the season, the majority of the vendors were selling seedlings, potted plants and garden starter kits. I wistfully remembered the vegetable and herb garden I had planted in my parents’ backyard some 20 years ago.  I originally planted basil to feed my pesto addiction, and then beefsteak tomatoes because I simply could not stand the perfect-looking but flavorless imposters found in the supermarkets. That successful five-foot by five-foot plot  in the first year led to a five by ten plot the second year, adding plum and cherry tomatoes as well as parsley to the basil and beefsteaks. Somehow by the third year, my little garden grew to 5 by 20 with all the usual suspects, plus cucumbers, bell peppers, zucchini and strawberries.

I learned a lot during those years. Rabbits love strawberries. Clay is very difficult to rototill. A single zucchini can quadruple in size overnight while its plant grows to invade the next block. That porous black fabric really does prevent weeds. Cucumbers have nasty barbs on them that will draw blood. Cilantro and bell peppers will NOT grow for me, no matter how much loving care I provide. Making sauce with real homegrown tomatoes is a labor of love, with a strong emphasis on labor. Pesto will freeze very well provided all you use is basil, garlic and olive oil, adding the pinenuts and cheese right before serving.

With my father’s help watering, weeding and rototilling, I had quite the little victory garden. When my mother asked why I didn’t grow flowers, I told her that if I am going to do all of this work in the dirt, I wanted to be able to eat the rewards. While flowers are pretty, they’re not as tasty as a homegrown tomato topped with fresh pesto sauce.

In autumn, 1994, I bought a condo. Two of the selling points were the extra-large kitchen and large west-facing balcony. The following spring, I decided to do some container gardening on my 25 by 8 foot balcony. A few herbs and some grape and plum tomatoes were the extent of my motivation. But, due to my corporate job, I traveled too much to really tend to those pots properly. Eventually I gave up, leaving a tangle of dried out stems and leaves. The gardener in me died in 1995. The corporate job ended in 2000.

Since then, I have the time to plant and raise herbs and vegetables, but those pots sit unused in the corner of my balcony, filled with 12-year-old potting soil and the remains of the roots of my last container garden. Each Saturday morning, I stare wistfully at the tomato seedlings at the market and think, “maybe next year.”

We stayed in Midtown at Flatotel, a nice boutique property with large (for NYC)  comfortable rooms.  The location was ideal…just blocks from Central Park, Rockefeller Center, Carnegie Hall and MOMA.

New York is among my favorite food cities (along with Chicago, New Orleans, San Francisco and  Las Vegas. My only complaint when visiting these cities is, “So many restaurants, so little time!” Like any chef (or foodie, for that matter), planning was key. I began my research a couple months before the trip and narrowed down my restaurant choices from hundreds to less than fifty.

The only disappointment was being unable to get reservations at Mario Batali’s Babbo on any of the nights we were there. But, we managed to have enjoyable meals and snacks over the four-day sojourn.

We covered a lot of ethnic dining territory on this trip…..Greek, Spanish, Chinese, Jamaican, Jewish and of course, Italian.

New York’s street food is legendary…cheap, high-quality, and quick. Alas, wearing Invisalign braces put the kibosh on the street food for me, with the exception of a Jamaican street cart around the corner from our hotel. Called the Jamaican Dutchy, it served rice and peas, Ting and meat patties, with akee and saltfish for breakfast. The meat patty was average, but it brought back great memories of our various trips to Jamaica.

Any trip to New York means two essential stops: Katz’s Deli and John’s Pizza. Katz’s is frozen in time, no different from my first experience there in 1982, and subsequent trips in the 1990s and 2000. The corned beef on rye with brown mustard was everything a corned beef sandwich should be…..somewhat fatty, rich with flavor, served with garlic pickles and attitude.

We walked off lunch by strolling through Little Italy, where vendors were setting up the food booths along Mulberry Street for the annual Feast of San Gennaro. Again, those damn Invisalign braces thwarted any attempt at sampling the street food. Jay, however,  found a booth selling deep-fried Twinkies.  He had always wanted to try one, and he did. It was simply a Twinkie on a stick, dipped into pancake batter and deep-fried. He enjoyed it but won’t repeat the experience. I tried not to gag.

John’s, with locations in the Village, Times Square and the Upper East Side, is my favorite NYC pizza haunt. This time  we visited the Upper East Side location after walking across the width of Central Park on a cool, sunny Saturday afternoon. We were delayed crossing Fifth Avenue for almost 45 minutes by a German-American parade. But we managed to get to John’s for a mid-afternoon proscuitto pizza and a couple beers. Crisp crust from the wood-burning brick oven and the perfect balance of cheese, sauce and proscuitto. My idea of NY pizza heaven.

Spanish was tapas and paella at Sangria 46 near Times Square. A charming restaurant with a lovely back patio decorated in bright colors. The staff was efficient and friendly. The paella was good, not great, but the mussels in the paella were outstanding.

Greek was Avra Estiatorio on East 48th Street. It was a last-minute selection for the one night we hadn’t made dinner reservations. The food was fine, but having been spoiled by all the great Greek restaurants in Chicago, I was not very impressed. We started with fried calamari served with  tzasiki, and an order of grilled sardines, followed by black sea bass and grilled lamb chops. For dessert, a respectable baklava and a bowl of sweetened Greek yogurt. Again, everything was cooked properly and delicious, but certainly not outstanding or memorable.

There was a trip down to Chinatown for dim sum. Dim Sum Go Go on East Broadway was highly rated, so we ventured downtown on the subway, only to get lost by my confusing Broadway with East Broadway. A mile-long hike later, we found the small place, waited 10 minutes for a table, walked upstairs to our tiny table and started ordering. With no cart service, everything comes piping hot from the kitchen when it’s ready. The dim sum was very good…fresh, hot, well-prepared. It didn’t rise to the level of Yank Sing, my favorite dim sum house in San Francisco, but it certainly hit the spot. Afterwards, we wandered around and stopped at a Chinese bakery for winter melon cakes.

The highlight of the trip was dinner at Convivio, a southern Italian restaurant with a kitchen run by Chef Michael White. The dining room was gorgeous and the service excellent. Our starters were cannelini beans with fatback in a tomato broth, and a caprese salad with fresh mozzarella made on premised, micr-basil and heirloom tomatoes. Both were light but loaded with flavor.

We split a bowl of mind-blowing pasta…a fusilli with carravaccio fonduta poured over the top. Rich and unctous, with the fusilli done perfectly al dente and the fonduta as smooth as silk.

My entree was a mixed grill of sweet fennel sausage (house-made), pork belly, roasted zucchini and heirloom tomatoes. I’ve learned through the years to not only appreciate, but also enjoy fatty meats, and pork belly is one of the most flavorful and texturally pleasing of the bunch. The outside was crisy and caramlized while the inside was full of flavor.

Jay enjoyed the braised shortribs in tomato ragu with broccolini. The meat was full of flavor and fall-off-the-bone tender.

Desserts were memorable. I enjoyed a Sicilian chocolate and ricotta layer cake while Jay had the mascarpone with figs, paied with a cordial called Amaro.

We were hoping for a Nathan’s hot dog at LaGuardia, but apparently they closed down the hot dog stand there. Not a great loss, as Chicago is one of the great hot dog cities of the world.

To my mind, there is no better ending to a meal than some sort of chocolate.

Here are my favorites, in no particular order:

Dove Dark Chocolate Promises: These are my every-day addiction. Rich, creamy, not too sweet. I eat three of these per night. I simply pop one into my mouth and let it melt.

Frango Mints: While I continue to mourn the passing of Marshall Fields, and have not stepped foot into Macy’s since they’ve taken over the Fields’ stores, I still long for the original Frango Mints. Clean minty flavor enhancing the chocolate, not too sweet, with a certain saltiness that provides a balance I’ve not found in other chocolate mints.

Candinas Chocolates: My guiltiest pleasure. Markus Candinas is a Wisconsin chocolatier who trained in Europe. He makes the best chocolates I’ve ever had. Located in Verona, a small town outside of Madison, Wisconsin, my in-laws introduced me to these wonderful tidbits of bliss. He has recently opened a shop on the Capitol Square in Madison.   http://www.candinas.com

There’s nothing like the flavor of fruits and vegetables picked just hours earlier. Right now, strawberries and asparagus are in season and taste fabulous. I am anxiously awaiting Michigan peaches, which should be out within a month or so. Blackberries, raspberries, cherries and apricots are due soon as well. And then there’s the heirloom tomatoes as the summer wears on.

Lest you think it’s all about produce….there’s also a cheese vendor, a flower farmer, a couple bakeries, a garden nursery, the mushroom guy and a salsa guy at the Park Ridge market.

My first experience with farmers’ markets began during college in Madison, Wisconsin, home of one of the largest farmers’ markets in the country. The entire Capitol Square is lined with booths featuring Wisconsin farmers and other purveyors. In Madison, there are a number of organic meat purveyors featuring beef, pork, lamb, poultry, bison, ostrich, venison, and products such as sausages, jerkies and other cured meats.

The artisan cheesemakers are there, along with bakeries, honey vendors, and produce farmers.

As luck would have it, while visiting my in-laws during Passover, the Market opened for the first time this season. Although the pickings were slim after a brutal winter, I was able to find spring garlic and ramps, also known as wild leeks. Ramps are the latest trendy ingredient during spring, and when sauteed in a bit of butter, have an oniony/garlicky flavor that is unmatched by any other combination of plants from the onion or garlic family. Ramps are particularly difficult to find in the Midwest, as the season is very short, and the few farmers who grow them sell their harvest to the top restaurants.

I’ll admit, right up front, that I don’t like fin fish. Never have. I enjoy most types of shellfish, but never cared for fish with fins and gills. Maybe it was the Friday night Mrs. Paul’s fish sticks I endured during my childhood. Or, too many field trips to the Shedd Aquarium during grade school. My husband introduced me to sushi and sashimi a number of years ago to no avail. He now enjoys sushi with his buddies.

I decided that if I’m ever going to develop a taste for fish, dining at L2O might very well do the trick.

The restaurant had opened on Wednesday and was about half-full when we arrived for our 7:30 reservation. Sitting at the next table was Ina Pinckney, Chicago’s breakfast queen. Restaurateur Rich Melman was there most of the evening, observing his latest venture.

The main dining room is elegant and comfortable, with clean lines, muted colors and architectural flourishes reminiscent of Japanese restaurants. There’s no hint that Ambria ever occupied the space.

After much negotiation, all three of us decided to order the 12-course tasting menu. We each ordered one of their signature cocktails, the Mediterranean Breeze. It was a delicious, refreshing slightly sweet, slightly tart vodka-based cocktail that reminded me of adult lemonade.

I won’t go in to a course-by-course description, because there were just too many. Counting amuses, listed savory and sweet courses, bread service and the chef’s whims, I think we ended up at 16 or 17 courses…most just a bite or two.

I enjoy tasting menus because I can try a variety of items I would not necessarily order, and if I don’t like a particular dish, it doesn’t ruin my evening.

I now know that although I still don’t like fish, I can tolerate mild raw fish. But, even after course after course of this wonderfully prepared meal, I just don’t like the flavor or texture of cooked fish. Salmon, tuna, halibut, fluke…it doesn’t matter. And, I cannot tolerate caviar, no matter what type.

The highlights for me were non-fish related. The above-mentioned Mediterranean Breeze cocktail…a thin slice of foie gras…braised pork belly…praline souffle.

Molecular gastronomy isn’t exactly lost on me, but foams and fizzes and vapors just don’t excite me. Scientifically fascinating, but not soul-satisfying the way I believe food should be. The presentation of each course was inventive, but for me, the “wow” factor ended there, with the exception of the highlights I already listed.

The service was excellent…professional, friendly, knowledgeable, well-paced and not stuffy. After dinner, our server gave a us a short tour of the architectural highlights, and a glimpse into the large kitchen. As we left, she handed each of us an autographed menu presented in a wax-sealed envelope.

Would I return to L2O? No. Would I recommend it to others? Yes, on a qualified basis. This is event dining. If you truly love all things that swim, have an appreciation (or tolerance) for molecular gastronomy, and like to dine at the trendiest restaurants in town, go. Expect to pay a lot of money, but you’ll be treated like a VIP and will certainly have a unique dining experience.

And now…the food:

We arrived very late on a Thursday night. All the restaurants close at 10 pm, so we headed to the HQ bar on Chartres & Iberville, the Jimani. This is a Chicago neighborhood tavern in the Quarter. The owner is from Chicago, and it’s like being home.

They have great bar food so we split a 1/2 pound cheeseburger and drank a lot of Abita Ambers. By 1 am, the kamikaze shots started flowing and we crawled back to the hotel around 3 am.

Lunch on Friday was at Cochon, Donald Link’s Cajun pork palace. They raise, slaughter and cure their own pork products.

We sat at the bar in front of the open kitchen and I had to constantly remind myself that I was on VACATION!

The amuse was fried rabbit livers with a sweet pepper jelly. Sounds gross, but incredibly delicious. Hey, if it’s breaded and fried, I’ll try it!

We ordered the boucherie plate, which had thinly sliced tasso (think Cajun proscuitto), pork liver sausage, bologna, pork pate and head cheese, along with house-made stone-ground mustard, pickled green creole tomatoes, and an assortment of pickled veggies. Aside from the head cheese, it was great. Jay and I figured, with everything else on the plate so delicious, we’d try the head cheese. Definitely not to our taste. The flavor was fine, but the texture was too weird for us.

We also ordered pork cheeks, which were served on a lima bean/cornbread cake with mustard cream. The cheeks were great, and the cake would have been perfect if it weren’t for the lima beans.

Chef Steve Strajewski (Link’s partner) came to our table and we talked for about 20 minutes. Great guy, good service….all-around wonderful lunch.

Around 5 pm, we were getting hungry and our dinner reservations weren’t until 8:30 pm, so we stopped at Acme for a dozen oysters and an order of boo fries. The oysters were delicious…immaculately fresh, needing just a squeeze of lemon and a dash of Tabasco.

Boo fries are their version of Montreal’s poutine….french fries smothered in beef gravy and cheese. Oh my! You need an angioplasty when you’re done eating them.

That night was Restaurant August. The restaurant is decorated in men’s club dark wood with multiple rooms on two floors, each seating about 30.

The amuse was seafood sabayon topped with caviar served in an eggshell. It was very delicious, but I would have run the sabayon thru a chinois to avoid the inevitable lumps. Fresh-baked sourdough baguettes were served with sweet butter.

For the cold appetizer, we ordered foie gras three ways: 1. a breaded and fried foie “fritter” about the size of a golf ball. When you cut into it, you get a small chunk of foie with the melted foie fat and all that crispy goodness.
2. A terrine of foie pate layered with ground calve’s tongue. Sounds gross, but was delicious.
3. Foie “sponge cake” was a terrine with thin layers of foie pate alternating with layers of savory sponge cake. Imagine a savory dobosh torte.

We ordered two hot appetizers:
1. Potato gnocchi with blue crabmeat in a parmesan/truffle sauce, topped with shaved Perigord truffles and parmesano reggiano. The gnocchi were light as air and the bits of lump crab were perfectly matched with the sauce.
2. Shrimp bisque. Jay’s not much of a shrimp fan, so I was surprised when he ordered this. Creamy, fresh, truly a perfect bisque.

I ordered the Chicken and dumplings….dumplings made of fresh ricotta cheese that melt in your mouth. The chicken breast was perfectly prepared and tasted like chicken.

Jay ordered the sweet and spicy duckling, a half-duck served with a slice of seared foie gras. Just wonderful.

Dessert was banana rum cake with white chocolate shavings. I managed to sneak in a few forkfuls as my dear hubby inhaled it.

As we left, I wondered how Commander’s was gonna top this!

We were so stuffed, we went back to the hotel and pretty much passed out.

The next day, we opted for Johnny’s instead of NOLA, as I was craving a crawfish po’boy. Jay ordered their muffaletta hot…imagine a muffaletta panini. The crawfish po-boy was huge and delicious and both sandwiches would carry us through the parade and our 9 pm reservations at Commander’s.

Over the years, I’ve been to Commander’s Palace four times…under three chefs (Emeril Lagasse, Jamie Shannon and Tory McPhail) Each time, I enjoyed the best meals of my life. This time was no different.

Commander’s had been gutted and renovated after Katrina, and I was curious to see the changes. There really weren’t any! The renovation was beautiful. It was the same old Commander’s…Creole elegance, and the best restaurant service I have ever experienced.

I had not had any shrimp (except for a taste of Jay’s bisque) on this trip, so I started with the shrimp and tasso henican. Three luscious pan-seared shrimp wrapped in crispy tasso, served with a sweet Crystal Hot Sauce buerre blanc.

Jay ordered his usual turtle soup with sherry and I managed to steal a couple spoonfuls.

At this point, we both really needed a cigarette, so our server pointed us to the back stairs, thru the kitchen, and out to the courtyard. I was mesmerized by the calmness of the kitchen and efficiency of the cooks. Again, I had to remind myself that I was on vacation! I spied the chef’s table in the kitchen (minimum 4 guests) and informed Jay that we’re gonna drag friends with us next March so we can sit at that table.

Back upstairs, our entrees arrived. Sticking with the shrimp, I had ordered Chef Tory’s take on BBQ Shrimp…served with piquillo, poblano and sweet red bell peppers and garlic, on a bed of garlic grits. I don’t like grits…never have. But, these grits were magnificent.

Jay ordered quail with crawfish in a bourbon-chicory coffee reduction. The plump crawfish tails were a perfect counterpoint to the quail and the sauce brought the whole dish together.

Finally, it was bread pudding souffle with whiskey sauce, Commander’s signature dessert. No sharing this time….we each ordered one. The perfect end to the perfect meal.

Commander’s outdid Restaurant August. How? Service. August’s service was fine…efficient, elegant, well-timed. But at Commander’s, you’re treated as well-respected long-lost friends. There’s a friendliness to the entire staff, both front- and back-of-house, that I’ve never experienced anywhere. The wait staff is non-intrusive yet anticipates your every need.

We cabbed back to the Jimani, grinning like fools, and started recruiting buddies for the kitchen table next year. Many kamikaze shots later and it was back to the hotel to sleep it all off.

On Sunday, we stopped at the Sheraton Starbucks for our lattes and headed around the corner to the Jimani for the finale….a crawfish boil. Jimmy hires a caterer who has a pick-up and trailer, complete with cooler and boil set-up. They cook on the street and bring in the goodies. The buffet had pounds and pounds of crawfish, artichokes, corn, potatoes and andouille sausage. Four buffet trips and 5 Abita Ambers later and it was time to head to the airport.

What a trip!

If you haven’t been to New Orleans, go! If you have, go back!