As I promised, here's my dish on what had to be one of the funniest meals of my life. Now, I enjoy laughter, so in a sense this was quite a good thing. But every once in a while, the pretentiousness of the experience reached laughable levels.
It was at one of Chicago's most celebrated restaurants, a tasting-menu-only, Michelin starred joint with the plainest decor I've ever seen in a restaurant (I suppose all that unadorned wood was meant to keep the focus on the food). The music was the kind you hear before and during a very bad massage. And the waitstaff scuttled around like Secret Service agents, each with earpieces and a mic on their sleeve so that they could share your every whim with the kitchen and time the meal to the second. (That being said, they were a friendly bunch, though the sommelier performed her duties almost as if she were in some sort of odd ballet, so stylized was her presentation of the food).
I'll admit, I enjoyed it. But was it worth $175. Not by a long shot.
Ah well, live and learn. I have had masterful molecular gastronomy elsewhere (most notably in Aix En Provence), but not here.
Any guesses which restaurant it was (not that I'm sure I'll say)?