William, it was really nothing

In which I get unduly worked up over a restaurant review

File under: Actually trying the food sounds like work.

We stopped in at Chaise Lounge (now The Southern) a week or so ago, spurred by its mention on Serious Eats as having a serious burger. We were hungry and ordered a number of things off the menu, including the things mentioned in this sort of pre-review in Dish:

Cary Taylor, the chef for both places, walked us through a sample meal with the new menu:

“The first thing I would do: Start you off with cheese straws [$4]. It’s my mom’s recipe. Next I would probably go to the johnnycake [$8]. We go to Green City Market and get corn meal from Three Sisters Garden. Then I get really nice pork shoulder from Gunthorp Farms and Berkridge, brine it, and smoke it over pecan shells and applewood. We serve it with cabbage and green-tomato relish with apple-cider vinegar. It’s called chow chow. Then I would go—if you were really hungry—to duck Orleans [$16]. It’s our duck cassoulet, but instead of white beans, it’s made with black-eyed peas. We get the duck legs from Gunthorp Farms and confit them and bake with house-made garlic sausage and some country ham. The fun thing about it is that in the little handle of the dish, we put some rosemary and torch it, so when we serve it, the whole dining room fills with the rosemary aroma.”

Shades of Grant Achatz, but it sounds yummy.

At no point during our time at Chaise Lounge did I recall Grant Achatz, other than to think: “I wish I was eating at Alinea.”

This isn’t to knock Taylor, per se. I wish I was eating at Alinea even when I’m eating tremendous food. That place is the tits. The burger we ordered was pretty strong, and the dishes described above were certainly competent. But, Alinea? That’s pretty heavy stuff to trot out, nosh untasted.

My point, I guess, is that the reviewer could have simply waited a week, tried the dishes and then reported. This prior-to-opening, “tell me about your food” stuff is bullshit. Of course the chef’s going to tell you it’s great. He’ll tell you the ribeye is fucking unicorn and the chicken is thought-to-be-extinct-and-now-actually-extinct dodo that tastes like the True Christ came in your mouth if he thinks it’ll help his restaurant. And you’ll be in no position to do anything but agree, having never eaten there.

Taylor’s cooking has a lot more in common with other neighborhood spots like The Bristol and, to a lesser extent, Mado than it does to one of the best restaurants in the country — something even the least sophisticated diner would notice in about seven seconds.

I can’t decide if the author’s guilty of ignorance or advetorial hyperbole. Neither’s good. F-minus.

UPDATED TO ADD: None of the above is to say you shouldn’t try The Southern. Chaise — which was running a very similar menu when we were there — was good, if a little spendy for what you got. I think The Bristol and Mado are both better options, but Taylor’s approach is a good one and his food’s worth trying. But it’s only “shades of” Alinea in the same way that McDonald’s is shades of Kuma’s.