This weekend, Jean and I took Andrew off to Chicago for a bit of R&R
(which was to have extended into Monday until Andrew's school used
Monday's holiday as a makeup snow day - snakebite #1). After a day of
playing tourists, during which time we went "ice skating" on a
polyethylene surface on the 94th floor of the John Hancock building,
Jean and I went out for dinner at Everest, Jean Joho's haute cuisine
palace atop the Chicago Stock Exchange building in the South Loop.
Though we dressed for the occasion, my appearance was slightly marred by
the swaddling of bandages that enveloped my left thumb, the result of
catching an edge during the skating and taking a spill, after which Jean
noted a profusion of blood on the "ice" -- oops! (snakebite #2).

Everest is a classic white tablecloth French dining experience with a
thick wine list especially strong in the wines of Alsace, Chef Joho's
homeland. We started with a Cremant d'Alsace Brut Rosé from a producer
I'd never heard of and who hailed from Chef Joho's home town. It was
quite pleasant with an herbal edge to the strawberry fruit. Jean was
going to start with a Presskopf of duck and pheasant followed by a
roasted lobster starter whereas I was starting with a sea scallop
starter on a mousseline of apple. All the starters were phenomenally
tasty and the scallops were the finest I've had in ages. To go with
these foods, we selected a half bottle of 1997 Trimbach Cuvée Frederick
Emile.

Before our starters arrived, though, the sommelier appeared to tell us
that the CFE was badly oxidized and that he'd have to go down to the
cellar for another bottle (snakebite #3). Fine, we said, so off he went
and we were left with no wine. No sooner than that had happened,
though, when our waiter appeared with more Cremant d'Alsace for us to
while away the time with. Major kudos to the staff for such
thoughtfulness. Eventually, the sommelier David returned with a second
bottle of CFE which he opened and brought to our table. When he poured
it, it came out dark golden in color and Jean, who is very sensitive to
oxidation in white wines, no more than smelled it before declaring this
bottle, too, as oxidized. (snakebite #4) Our sommelier agreed, averring
that the first bottle had been worse. I then floated the suggestion
that PremOx might not be restricted to White Burgundies and he responded
by saying that Jean Trimbach had complained of bad corks in the '97-99
era and that the corks of both half bottles were noticeably loose.
Paring our losses, I instead requested a half bottle of the '99 Weinbach
Gewurztraminer Cuvée Laurence so we ended up with that: pungent nose of
lychee and spice, an oily texture with just enough acidity to manage
with our fishy starters. Because Jean had ordered an extra starter, the
chef very graciously threw in a small sample of a second starter for me:
sturgeon wrapped in sauerkraut and cured ham and baked, a truly
remarkable combination of flavors and sensations. Again, kudos to the
staff of Everest.

Moving on to our main courses of venison in huckleberry sauce with red
cabbage and chestnuts, we had ordered another half bottle, of 1989
Guigal Côte-Rôtie Brune et Blonde which the sommelier had decanted and
brought to the table with our food. A sample was poured for me and I
discovered that the wine was badly corked! (snakebite #5) The server
brought the decanter back to the sommelier, who agreed, brought out a
second bottle and decanted it. When that second decanter was poured for
me, I found that it was corked worse than the first bottle!! (snakebite
#6). By now, the situation had descended into near absurdity. We had,
by this point, returned 4 half bottles of wine to the kitchen. With the
stricken sommelier back at our table, we jointly agreed to try another N
Rhone Syrah, but alas others were available in half bottle. At this
point, the sommelier went above the call of duty and offered to open a
bottle of 1990 Rostaing Côte-Rôtie and let us have a glass each. Deal,
I said, so off he went and come back with the Rostaing in decanter.
Huzzah! This wine smells fine, a nice nose of bacon fat and meat with
some dark fruit lurking underneath. The wine, alas, promised more in
the nose than it delivered on the palate, disappearing a bit mid-palate,
but it was still a fine accompaniment to the most excellent venison.

We ended our meal with a lovely cheese course (5 Midwestern cheeses,
each fantastic, the last of which tasted like a Neal's Yard Montgomery
Cheddar). We had the last of the Côte-Rôtie with the cheeses and were
feeling quite sated when the sommelier appeared with yet another gift
from the kitchen: a small dessrt and two pours of the 2001 Les Cypres de
Climens. The wine, as expected, was intensely botrytised, which for me
is hard to get past, and smelled of the usual orange rind, apricot and
bergamot. Very rich and long finish, but I'm just not that fond of
botrytis to really enjoy it. Still, a most touching gift to round out
the evening.

As we left, I told the sommelier that we'd never had such a string of
bad luck ever in a restaurant and he replied that he'd never had such a
string of bad luck and hoped never to again! I told him to pour himself
and our servers something nice at the end of the night and to relax. We
felt overwhelmed with the generosity of the service there.

Never in my life have I had such bad luck with wine, but the overall
experience at Everest was overwhelmingly positive. The food was
outstanding, the service tremendous and, although far from cheap, the
value was excellent. The staff may run screaming if they ever see us
again, though...

Mark Lipton