Restuarant: Japonais Restaurant |
Address: 600 W Chicago Ave
Chicago, IL 60610 |
As you may have guessed, Chicago Gluttons primarily reps people of various colors. Take heed dough; we aint no puh ass, pigeon feeding fools. Be it hot dogs or foie gras, we only fuck wit the best. So, yea shunn, last week we transported the krew to Japonais to get all Kristy Yamaguchi with it. Pops was right…you get what cha pay fuh.
Don’t mind ole boy in the pleated $29.99 Dockers. He was in town from Jersey City.
Five of us ate $415.00 deep into the menu. It was like culinary rape; tearing through dishes like the Father, Son and Holy Ghost ordained it. The menu became our Koran…and we read thoroughly. That said, I’m not going to feature everything here…this is just some highlights to get your mouth yearning for compensatory time.
Out the gate, the Ahi Tuna Ceviche and “The Sushi Bar Special” (both pictured above) got full bars. Both dishes were extremely fresh and light; a perfect compliment to a duckbutter filled, dishrag Sunday. The tempura shallots and english peas showed prowess and guile by the dueling kitchens (Japonais has two different kitchens; two different chefs).
When the lab-with-knives brought out the Kani Kani, we were B. Gumped. IQ’s reduced exponentially; drool ran profusely. The crab claws were wrapped in skrimps and crab mousse, then stacked for aesthetic presence. A tru delicatessen not for the light hearted. Think seafood lambchop and you’re pretty close.
Oh no, you are not seeing things…the plate featured two baby crabs fried hard n’ shit.
Mains featured the Salmon Japonais and Chilean Seabass Cartoccio. That oil-like substance you’re viewing is “curry oil” which the USDA will soon be marketing as our next sustainable fuel source. The salmon rested on two sticks of melted butter and whole cream. Our hearts made valiant attempts to avoid the cholesterol surge and the hypertension which would soon ensue. A few chest pounds treated our palpitations to a potent laxative.
I’m not even going to say anything bout the “Le Quack Japonais.” My fellow Gluttons will let cha ya know what I’m taumbout:
Rary- “You heard the duck was good? Good? I lived that shit last weekend brah. . good is a huge understatement, this shit is the motherfuckin’ white knight. Lets put this shit in SAT format so you can understand:
Michael Jordan is to basketball as Japonais is to Duck. Wooh . . I just got goosebumps. I gotta take a shower now.”
Rin Rin- “I don’t know what they did to that duck, but when Punchy and I went I wanted slap him in the face with a piece of that poultry because it was so dank!”
By the time dessert arrived, the Glutton krew was weak but not skurred in the slightest. We chop down gluttony like ya boy Paul Bunyan (No axes. CGs savage uncharted territories and plant pork in developing nations). You know how we do before the shop closes: sugar coated, chocolate filled doughnuts complimented by fresh green tea ice cream.
Japonais did us correct. I might consider a second visit if I can avert taking out a second mortgage.