The Chicago Firehouse – v. 2.0
In the wake of a 3-11 fire at Roy’s furniture store, the steak night group decided to burn another one down at one of Chicago’s finer establishments, The Chicago Firehouse. The last time the group set foot in the Chicago Firehouse as a whole, was July 2009 so it seemed this was within reason for a repeat visit.
The cocktail hour was thinly attended. Brad Ray was first to arrive shortly after my prompt seating at the bar with Crenshaw and Fedderke following afterward. Holinger made it from Delaware to the Firehouse before a few other members of the group could make it. However, the interstate commute is still easier than that from Hoffman Estates. I was a little disappointed at the turnout after a full boat for cocktails for May’s steak night, but did get a chance for a little catchup as we enjoyed a quality open air atmosphere at the bar.
We were seated at a busy part of the restaurant. The atmosphere, as many like to note, was bustling. The rectangular table was ideal for our group and I was pleased the staff payed attention to my request. Contrary to that request, they do not pay attention to people’s written names as I was referred to as Mr. Zerbo and Crenshaw was referred to I believe Joey Crensheal. Some of the talent in the room wasn’t top notch, but it was lively, and I think this played into the general mood of the group. It felt like the energy level of the group was at a higher level than some of the other steak nights I have attended. Although come to think of it, the energy probably wasn’t quite as lively as the last visit here when Scotty flipped backwards in his chair, so the story goes.
Oysters Rockefeller started the line of appetizers. The oysters were all shell and little oyster, pretty disappointing. The Calamari I thought was prepared well although certainly nothing in line with a Capital Grille calamari. The Baby octopus I thought was easily the best of the bunch. Of course it took a second order for me to get an opportunity to taste it as the apps went quickly with our group. I do scratch my head with the naming of baby octopus. They don’t call veal baby cow, do they? Perhaps the culinary world needs to sharpen up their naming a bit.
I ordered the bone in 18 oz prime dry-aged bone in ribeye with a Cajun rub and it was the best steak I’ve had on a steak night. The temp was cooked to my specification of medium-rare. I didn’t hear a negative word about anyone’s steak, although someone could have ordered a filet of sole for all I knew as I was far too focused on the perfection sitting before me.
The sides were terribly underwhelming. Garlic mashy p’s, creamed spinach, three cheese mac &n cheese, au gratin potatoes, and Brussels sprouts. The only good one of the group were the Brussels sprouts. All other sides were mediocre and I’ll let the rest of the group define their reactions.
It was Holingwa’s birthday, which coincided with a return from the other side of the world and first steak night in many months. It was great to have him back at the table again. Fedderke walked. To put a stark contrast to the pre dinner cocktails, post dinner cocktails was a full boat.
One notion of business was discussed at the dinner table. While we didn’t have the whole crew in attendance, we walked away with one addition to the rule book. Perhaps it could be coined the Glick Act, to keep up the steady verbal barrage typically directed at the aforementioned individual. The rule is as follows: If you are not in attendance for the cocktail hour, and are deemed tardy by the group to the 8 PM dinner reservation, you may not participate in credit card roulette. To quote a steak night member’s reaction to Glick’s defense of his tardiness, “Suck it”- you will pay full price. Perhaps our attorney could work on verbiage.
This will probably be my last steak night for quite some time as losing an income and building up student loans will only financially permit me to eat gristle and pork hocks.
Lastly, a happy Father’s Day to the father’s in the group. I wish nothing but the best steak knives and fine scotch for your future from your children on father’s day.
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8 Responses to “The Chicago Firehouse – v. 2.0”
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A fine writeup and a well thought out night throughout, except for my thinking that I could hustle down I-94 in a matter of an hour to arrive in time for at least 1 cocktail. Didn’t happen, but hey, I beat Giick down there, and was in full arrival prior to seating for dinner.
As Zeebs pointed out, we were seated in probably the busiest part of the restaurant, which was fine, since it afforded us the ability to basically check out everyone coming and going through the restaurant. This especially had benefits for the former castaway, Mr. Holinger, as we were soon finding out he had a host of missed connections with the lovely ladies Down Under.
After catching up to the group on a few drinks at the table the apps arrived. I have to disagree with the calamari, too chewy and rubbery for my taste. The oysters were the size of a conch shell and almost tasted as bland. The winner was the baby octopus, of which the table had two orders, I believe.
Zebro was well in control the entire night and seated across from him at the table I was able to see his care and attention to detail at work. The guy is going to have stellar bedside manner and again we congratulate him.
The steak I ordered was ambitious, both since we had filled up on apps – oh and a bisque that had no lobster in it and is barely worth mentioning – and because I had gone where no order had gone before and asked for the now famed “rare plus” steak. Ol’ Gimms knows where his bread is buttered and proceeded to do the same, and the race was on. The steaks arrived pretty much the closest to perfect as possible as did my small request for some blue cheese on the top.
Couldn’t finish all the steak and enjoyed the sides, included the potatoes and of course the sprouts. I actually enjoyed the creamed spinach but am no CS expert. In another steak night first I took a doggy bag home of what was left of the finely cooked steak and left the rest of it for another meal in the future (which was completed).
After dinner drinks were well attended as mentioned, with Glick continuing his attack on Herb Greenberg of CNBC, blaming him for Glick’s purchase of a bad stock. Later I find out he’s booked a ton of profits in the thing already, I took back the fake tears I shed for him. Maybe you guys can throw an investment into VELA/CHTL.
9
Last visited in July 2009; The Chicago Firehouse delivered a unique atmosphere, poorly cooked steaks, Liars Poker and Scottie Markets falling over in the dining room. After nearly three years, I was looking forward to a triumphant return to this unique Chicago steak establishment.
I was the first to arrive and bellied up with the standard Oban 14 – I got the last pour. Shortly thereafter our host, budding RN Mark Zebro, joined me at the bar. Mark promptly informed me that his school commitments will prevent future steak night endeavors. I smacked him in the mouth and called him out on such nonsense. Truth be told, I didn’t raise my hand – but I suggest we keep an eye on him as a group going forward as such a position is steak blasphemy.
Johnny Cizzle joined next and was turned away from the bartender when ordering his Oban. Yet 5 minutes later a fresh bottle shows up on the bar. Lazy bartending. I had yet to see “Cant Drive 55” since his stateside return – that in and of itself made for a great evening. In a show of amazing commitment and moxy, the kid hops a flight from Delaware (“Hi, we’re in Delaware”) to make the end of cocktail hour. Certain members of the steak night crew should take note.
Once seated the wait staff proved a bit more attentive and willing to go above and beyond then our bartender friend. Apps started to flow, were average at best and woefully under ordered by our gracious host. Oysters Rockefeller lacked oysters and were mostly spinach. The bisque arrived with a strong pot-pie presentation however lacked actual lobster. The squid was well cooked and a highlight for me. I got one piece of fried calamari and from what I was able to taste, was cooked quite nicely.
Standard operation, I got the bone in rib-eye cooking it rare plus this time around. I feel the ability to cook a true rare plus is an earmark of a good steakhouse. With our waiter pushing The Firehouse’s ability to deliver, I dutifully challenged. Much to my delight the cut was cooked a perfect rare plus and had an added sweetness to it – something that seemed to be a Firehouse signature. The steak experience was a true 180 from 2009. The sides however were largely, meh. Average cream spinach that was mostly cream; note to the chef – transfer the over flow of spinach in the Rockefeller to up the greenery in the creamed spinach itself.
All in all a great night. The Crew was in exceptionally high spirits and was rewarded with a great meal and post dinner drinks.
Some new laws were passed – show late to dinner and you are ousted from CC roulette. It was not my birthday and I did not walk free – as per usual.
Next up is the big July 4th steak night – always an adventure
Its hard to say which leaves a better taste in your mouth, the filet oscar cooked to perfection or walking away from the bill with your money still in your pocket. I am going with the filet in this case. It was the perfect temperature on the inside with a beautiful seared crust on the outside. The crab meat was plentiful and flowing like the salmon of capistrano.
Honestly, aside from the great company as always, evertyhing else was lackluster. The apps were below par as described above, the bisque isnt even worth mentioning, and the sides were worse than David Burkes.
I do love the atmosphere of the Chicago Firehouse, but our table left something to be desired. The general din and noise of the crowd was overpowered by our discussion and approval of the Glick Rule,
A full boat for after dinner drinks is as unlikely as a timely Glick, but the Weathermarks sails drew us in for a few.
I give it a 6.
Welcome home indeed. Couldn’t imagine a better place to walk into after a long week in Wilmington, Delaware: the Chicago Firehouse bar with our gracious host, Mark, Hans and Brad Ray. The first steak night back since being Down Under and it was a doozy.
Bar area was cramped with just 4 of us there. Once the rest began arriving, it was unsustainable. Can’t forget the “we’re out of Oban” call then Brad noticing an unopened bottle on the bar about 5 minutes later.
Once seated, Glick arrived late as usual, and we settled in; it was feeling more like home. Wine selection was great. Calamari was the only starter I was really excited about. The waiter did not steer us right with our initial apps order: we had to re-up twice to make sure everyone got a taste.
My bone in rib-eye was perfect (medium rare +), the sides mediocre.
All in, a pleasure to be back in the saddle with the gentlemen of steak night, but Chicago Firehouse fell short on several counts. Fantastic celebrating my birthday early and appreciate another rule to encourage members to respect what makes this tradition special.
I was pretty excited for a return to Nurse Focker’s choice of the Chicago Firehouse after a 4 year hiatus. My return was apparently not very celebrated as the bar tender failed to provide anything closely resembling decent service. If the customer wants an Oban and your bottle is empty, you get a new bottle. Don’t blame it on the poor guy hustling behind the scenes making minimum wage. Two thumbs down for that guy. Luckily, the company at cocktail hour was splendid. You can always count on Kid Ray to be the first to arrive. You can always count on Jon Glick to be the last, hence the newly incorporated Glick rule. Sir Holinger made his triumphant return after a quarter in the land down under and was a welcome addition.
We were sat at a table right in the middle of the runway. I felt like I was constantly feeling the breeze of the waitstaff barreling by. Not the greatest location but whatever. If the foods good then frankly Scarlet, I don’t give a damn.
Our gracious host chose a couple of nice wine selections. And here’s where problem #2 came. The waiter literally filled a glass after every sip. Relax man. let me enjoy my glass without you standing over me ready to poor at a moments notice. But the worst part is he brought a new bottle without even asking after the first two were done. If we hand’t said anything to him I’m pretty are we were going to get an unsolicited magnum for the 4th bottle.
Apps – The Oysters Rockefeller were a travesty. I heard both orders of the calimari were good. Call my Skip I guess. Both times the new order started on the other side of the table and went in a clockwise motion until they got the the last of us in the circle. I went for the roasted red pepper topping just to say I had something that had once touched the calimari.
Steak – Bone in Ribeye obviously. It was good. Not spectacular but the temperature was to my liking. Honestly, it’s hard to screw up steak in this city. Hell, that’s the one thing I can cook and not screw up. That being said, with so many restaurants being able to serve a decent piece of meet, you’ve got to have something that sets you apart. Get a special spice blend or something. I wasn’t disappointed per se, but I wouldn’t tell out of town guests that they have to try this steak.
Sides – The au gratin potatoes were powerful, and not in a good way. Too garlicky, or cheesy, or something. The sprouts w/ bacon were excellent though. The creamed spinach was average.
I think I’ve had my fill of the Chicago Firehouse for this decade. I’d give it no more than a 5. I think my average rating for places I’ve been a part of since last year is probably in the 8.5 range if that tells you anything.
For historical accuracy purposes, Kid Ray was not the first to arrive, as I was at the bar at 7:00 and he arrived a bit later. Trivial, but necessary information.
The South Loop might as well be in another state for the amount of time I spend there. A return visit to the Chicago Firehouse provided the perfect reason to road trip to the neighborhood.
My evening started out by sitting in traffic for almost two hours as I commuted from that hell hole Hoffman Estates, much longer then the typical commute which sucks even when it is a little over an hour. Needless to say when I arrived at the restaurant at 7:45 I needed a drink worse the Penn State needs some positive press.
I think the décor of being in an old firehouse is cool but the bar area feels cramped and you feel like you are leaning over other parties tables.
We were seated at 8:00 and Glick was not there. Thus his Cal Ripken like streak of being late for dinner and not really giving a shit about being late continued.
It was Nurse Focker’s rookie campaign as host and he made a rookie mistake when ordering the aps, severely under ordered. I managed to get about 3 pieces of calamari from the second order which were good. I suppose I could have gotten shutout like Crenshaw. The lobster bisque lacked lobster, which is a strike, but it did have a lot of flavor and the puff pastry topping is a nice twist.
Porterhouse medium rare for me, it was good, nothing wrong with the way it was prepared but nothing to make it stand out either. You gotten come with a little bit extra. Sides were average, I’m a huge au gratin fan and they had a powerful flavor in a negative way, not sure what it was but it didn’t work. The server was at full speed and rushing us, we sat down and two minutes later he is asking us if we are ready to order.
I would go back to Chicago Firehouse but it is not my favorite place and I’m not rushing back. It was nice to have a full boat for after dinner drinks and good to have “Muddle the Limes” Holinger back in the mix after his adventure with Paul Hogan.
Fourth of July steak night is up next; there was some talk of golf in the morning/early afternoon and then heading to dinner. I suggest you take Friday off.
Its always good to know that whenever you have a bad day and look forward to getting out of work and seeing the people you care about, they can put behind their concerns about timeliness behind and focus on the now. It trully is special. I love the puppy dog look Rick Ray gives me every time I walk in the room. I love the tears in Holinger’s eyes. I love the way Hans is hopping up and down. I hope this never changes.
Good times. Steaks were solid, however the caliber of creamed spinach in Chicago has continued its massive slump. Am starting to worry that we may have to get the proper authorities involved to fix what is becoming a debacle – I’m not talking about the mayor; I’m talking Yelp.
Happy to see the group go out after. This is becoming less and less frequent, some have blamed the meat sweats…I suggest petite fillets for the rest of the summer. Next month sounds like it could be epic, people better get in shape. Never Surrender!