Cuisine: Goat (for lack of a better descriptor)
Location: 809 W Randolph St., Chicago, IL
Price: $$$
Food: 4.5*
Service: ****
Overall: 4.5*
Website: http://www.girlandthegoat.com/
Three months. That’s how long the wait is for a reservation
at Girl & The Goat. And that’s
only if you’re dining at off hours (Sunday night, first and last seating, etc.).
Otherwise the very instant seats are released on OpenTable, there’s a long list
of people waiting to try the food at Top
Chef winner Stephanie Izard’s restaurant who will snatch them up in a heartbeat.
In June, on an impulse, I decided the time was
right to make a reservation at Girl &
The Goat, for some far off date that might never come about, at least not
before the Mayans predicted the end of the world or the rapture befell us yet
again. For the duration of summer the thought of dining there was constantly in
the back of my mind, a subtle reminder that the days were ticking off before I
would be seated at one of the most talked-about, well-hyped, and
adoringly-reviewed restaurants in all of Chicago.
Well, last Sunday marked the end of my long wait to eat goat.
Armed in tow with a few foodie friends, we found our way to Fulton Market,
home of Chicago’s meatpacking district. Given the dearth of real estate1 in downtown Chicago, restauranteurs have
become increasingly fond of the idea of opening up out in the West Loop, where
rent is cheap and the reputations of the executive chefs can lure enough foot
traffic in through the doors to still make a profit. Examples include Homaru
Canto’s Moto, Paul Kahan’s Publican, and, of course, the oft
mentioned Next, helmed by Grant
Achatz. There is essentially nothing in the surrounding area besides huge
meatpacking warehouses and fine dining establishments. Hey, at least the meat’s
guaranteed to be fresh, right?
After we finally settle into the crowded dining room, our
first task at hand is to tackle the daunting menu. Separated into vegetarian,
fish, and meat options, Girl & The Goat employs
a tapas-style dining experience – the expectation being that each person should
order two or three dishes to share with the table. As such, the four of us are
left to deliberate about which eight dishes we all agree on getting – a task
even more monumental than paying for a meal with a party of 12 at
someone’s birthday dinner that you didn't want to go to simply because you knew the issue of the bill would enrage you to no end2.
After relying on our waiter’s helpful suggestions a bit
(okay, a lot), we finally have our dishes ordered. Just a few short minutes later we
begin with bread – which costs $4 here. It’s not so much that it’s pricy as it
is that the idea of bread not being complimentary is a rather alien concept in America, much like the idea of free water is an alien concept in Europe. However, so good is the bread here that I have no qualms about ponying up
for it – we order a sourdough bread that comes with beer cheese and
cultured butter, all made in-house. The most disappointing part of this course
is the fact that our server removed the plate when we were done with the bread.
Watching the remainder of that beer cheese, slightly hoppy and salty, like
something I could eat by the bucket for any beer drinking occasion, whisked
away before I could make a fool out of myself by swirling my finger in it and
licking it clean, was pretty damn heart-wrenching.
 |
| Chickpea fritters, eggplant-tomatillo caponata, crave brothers mozzarella |
When the bread is that good, you know it portends to a great
meal to come. We start with chickpea fritters, described by one of us as
“tasting exactly like McDonald’s Chicken McNuggets – in the best way possible.”
It is somewhat hard to explain the compliment – the batter on the chickpea
fritters gives off that crunchy, fried texture that is indeed shockingly
reminiscent of the McNugget fried batter. Of course, the same taste is achieved
without using miscellaneous chicken bits and simply dumping it in the deep fryer, so
I’m sure the technique to achieving that airy, crispy taste is far more
difficult than the guy working the fry station at Mickey D’s. The
chickpeas at the bottom gives some bite to the plate, and the fresh, creamy
mozzarella and slightly acid eggplant go well with the fritters.
 |
| Wood roasted pig face, tamarind, cilantro, potato stix, fried egg |
Our next dish is the wood roasted pig face – a dish that I
have heard over and over again is a must have here. I’m not exactly sure what
part of the face the dish uses – is it pork cheek? Jowls? Nose? Forehead? There’s not that much
fat to work with, at least not compared to, say, pork belly. It reminds me a little of beef tongue – here, it’s paired with cilantro (green)
and tamarind (brown) sauces, but to be honest the sunny side up egg overpowers
both of those sauces, combining with the pig face and potato stix to form a
dish I would kill for as a post-hangover Sunday brunch. I like the way it all tastes, but I have to say
it’s not at all what I was expecting3.
 |
| Seared scallops, smoked goat, spiced melon, coconut-cucumber salad |
Onwards to the seared scallops – the scallops are amazingly
tender, flaking apart as soon as my fork makes contact, but the star of this
dish is the spiced melon, a sweet fruit coated with a glaze that gives it some
heat at the end. The pairing is so unique that it catches me completely off
guard. With the cool, tropical coconut-cucumber salad and perfectly done
scallops, the lightness of the dish offers a welcome contrast to some our other meatier dishes.
 |
| Sugo, linguini, rosemary, cape gooseberries |
From there we move on to the sugo, a dish that doesn’t wow
with its appearance, but the home-style Italian cooking it's meant to represent
certainly shines through in its taste. The sugo, which, at first glance, looks
like some Velveeta cheese concoction to me, is spicy enough to make the tongue
tingle and keep it wanting more. A blend of pork, goat, and veal, the sauce has
so much body to it, this one dish could have passed for dinner if I was eating
it by myself. The linguini is
placed atop a bed of cape gooseberries – something I’ve never had before,
looking rather like gingko nuts, but with a distinctly sour note to them. They
offer a stark contrast to the Italian flavors of the dish, which keeps the dish
interesting, but I’m not sure if I’m the biggest fan of them. I find myself
eating them first (so I can get to the good stuff last) – and even now I’m not
sure if it’s because I wanted to clean my plate or because there’s some part of
me that really enjoyed the sharp acidity they provided.
 |
| Seared tuna, grilled blueberries, lamb sausage, pepitas |
The sugo is followed by seared tuna, plated so that the raw,
fresh pinkness immediately captures my attention. The literal centerpiece of
the dish, the tuna is accented by grilled blueberries, sweet but with a
slightly smoky grill flavor, which goes well with the crumbled lamb sausage
strewn about. The final piece of the dish is pepitas, or pumpkin seeds, though
they get a little lost amidst the more powerful flavors in the dish. Even so,
the cool, tender tuna, without the slightest hint of fishiness, offers an
almost palate-cleansing experience, as if to signal to our stomachs that it’s
time for a second wind, to gear up for the upcoming courses.
 |
| Sauteed green beans, fish sauce vinaigrette, cashews |
 |
| Grilled pork ribs, tomato-mushroom slaw, grilled scallion vinaigrette |
By now, all of us are struggling a little to keep up with
the pace of the dishes, thoroughly enjoying ourselves yet also trying to
distinguish and separate each dish from the one that precedes it as we plow through the meal in a haze of good food. Green beans,
with a bright, almost white fish sauce vinaigrette drizzled over it, comes next, and
our server indicates that the grilled pork ribs, following close behind, make
for a great pairing with them. The fish sauce is tangy, sweet, sour, and distinctly
Thai, giving this simple dish an amazing flavor. Combined
with the succulent, tender pork ribs, which are lightly dressed and topped with
a tomato-mushroom slaw, the flavor is overwhelming, comforting in its
familiarity yet eye-opening due to the unique sauces and accoutrements. The two
dishes blend together seamlessly, the two vinaigrettes offering different acid
tones, the pork and green beans giving textural contrast. The surest sign of
the quality of the dish lies in the fact that all four of us at the table end
up picking up the rib, trying to gnaw away the last of the meat still clinging
desperately to the bone to stave off our insatiable appetites.
 |
| Confit goat belly, lobster n' crab, vanilla bourbon butter, fennel |
Finally, we come to the last course for our meal – off the goat specials, a confit goat belly, finished with lobster and crabmeat, fennel, and
a vanilla bourbon butter sauce. Once I break apart a piece of the confit, I can see glistening fat
inside, and once I take a bite it melts over my mouth, coating my tastebuds in
a wonderful, unctuous fatty sheen and my mind in a blissful sensation. The slightly gamey
taste of goat, as compared to more typical confit choices such as duck, absorbs
the fat wonderfully, and the meat shreds off the fork (and into my mouth) with
ease. The vanilla notes in the sauce complement the lobster and crab
wonderfully, essentially a classed up drawn butter sauce where the subtle
sweetness melds with the delicate seafood. This
is the kind of dish that will haunt my dreams for the next few weeks, until,
maybe, I simply make another reservation to come back in three months time, so
I can eat my way through the rest of the menu, lest I miss another gem like
this one.
 |
| Pork fat doughnuts, honey yogurt, caramelized figs, lemony eggplant, ham streusel |
Thouroughly stuffed, we sit back and rehash our meal,
talking about our favorite dishes, what we loved, and what was “merely” good but not mind-blowingly awesome.
We’re pulled out of our semi-food coma bliss only by our friendly waiter, who
returns with dessert menus for all – tempting us to pile it on and end the
night on a sweet note.
After little deliberation, we reach the consensus
that we should really try something so as to get the full experience. That and the
fact that we all love to eat and can’t say no to good food probably has
something to do with it. So, out come the pork fat doughnuts, the smell of sweet, airy,
doughy goodness wafting at us, plopped onto our table.
A truly savory dessert in conception, the doughnuts
incorporate pork fat, ham, and eggplants, yet each individual component manages
to not only work well but give off distinct sweet notes befitting of a dessert.
My only complaint is the lemony eggplant, covered in the acidic lemon sauce,
overwhelming me and leaving little room for the honey, figs, and ham streusel
to be appreciated. A shame, because the ham streusel is a creation that’s
certainly beyond anything I could have even imagined – sugar coated crumbs that
leave just a hint of salty ham taste4 on the tip
of my tongue, reminding me that, why, there’s actual ham in this dessert!
Final thoughts: There’s a reason why Girl & The Goat has
so many people chomping at the bit to try its food – because it’s phenomenal in
both conceptualization and in execution. The small plates format means one trip
there gets you a taste of a solid chunk of the menu if you go with a group of 4
– what it also means is you’ll be tempted to go back and try everything you
missed. With a steep but not exorbitant price tag, this is a place worth the three-month
wait. So make your impulse reservation now, and you could be privy to the
amazing food Stephanie Izard is trotting out as early as December!
1. Also, the
astounding prices of said real estate.↩
2. I find it
hard to stress how painful the process is, especially because I always end up
throwing in extra money so people can stop bickering about how we’re $1.72
short on a bill that runs $200. Someone always forgets that the birthday girl eats free, or that they ordered a $16 cocktail because it seemed like a place where ordering a $16 cocktail was reasonable, or that you have to pay the fucking tax and tip. Just thinking about it is making me angry.↩
3. I think I
was expecting the actual face of a pig, though, so those might not be the most
realistic expectations one has had with regards to this dish.↩
4. Almost as
subtle as the smack of ham found in a pot of hot ham water. A little less
watery, though.↩
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