Parachute Restaurant Review - A Modern Twist on Korean

By Samantha Schoville

Parachute Restaurant Chicago Review

Parachute Restaurant (at 3500 N. Elston in Chicago) was on my radar for some time, nestled quietly in the side streets of the almost-on-the-rise neighborhood of Chicago’s Avondale. Friends had raved about the constantly changing Korean-American inspired menu, yet the dim blue light in the front driving by seemed more like an apparition than an advertisement for food. Who would frequent such a secretive little joint? Who would go boldly where the bus line doesn’t run? Only the hip. Only those in the-know. Only those that Parachute.

I decided to move my status from an outsider into an insider when a friend invited my boyfriend and me on a double-date for a Tuesday night. Though Parachute Restaurant ’s website says it doesn’t take reservations, my friend called ahead, and they fit us in for three weeks later. We could feel the foodie-tension rising; we were going on a culinary adventure. Our friend’s boyfriend–Korean born–would be our guide. If we couldn’t pronounce or recognize the food at hand, he would be our Google. What we needed to do was relax and enjoy the journey.

Upon arriving at Parachute Restaurant, I ordered one of three house cocktails (known only by numbers), the#2. The #2 is a take on a whiskey-sour, but lighter, less sweet, and more refined. As we waited at the bar for our friends to arrive, the restaurant buzzed with excitement. Every table was full, and the noise level was sky-rocketing. Were these people all yelling? We couldn’t tell if it was the clientele or the acoustics. After settling in, we decided that this was, perhaps, Parachute’s biggest flaw.

When our friends joined us and we moved to a table, we began to immerse ourselves in the experience. Everything at Parachute is meant to be shared, which was perfect for our crew. We started with eight Market Oysters (at $3 a piece) served over soju granita, Korea’s most popular alcohol frozen and shaved. After slurping profoundly fresh-tasting oysters down, we dug into the House Pickles, Classic Kimchi, with Chili Chayote, and Watermelon Radish Zuke. The kimchi had a fermented zing to it, and the chayote brought us to our knees. Not to shy on the appetizers, we followed these two dishes with Baked Potato Bing Bread with bacon, scallion and sour cream butter and English Peas Spiced with Togarashi. The bread reminded us of something grandma would make, in the best way, and the English peas were a lively take on edamame.

After ordering a round of Makgeolli, a sweet alcoholic drink made from fermented rice, we were ready to dig in. On the menu: a Pork Belly and Mung Bean Pancake with kimchi, black garlic, hen egg, and pineapple, followed by Yum Sul Tang–braised goat, and pickled beet mushrooms, and perilla. This one was waitress-suggested and delicious! We couldn’t pass up the Smoked Lamb Ribs, which, with crispy ginger and coriander quickly, became one of my favorite dishes of the night. Lastly, we got the Whole Roasted Porgy (a fish) that, when wrapped in the accompanying lettuce leaves, brought together the tender fish with a fresh crunch–heaven.

Yet, we couldn’t stop there. Dessert was imminent. I am a hobbyist-baker and dessert-aficionado, but I often scorn Asian deserts–which is why I sometimes have to eat humble pie. Parachute’s take on Cornbread, Blueberries, and Chamomile Ice Cream was nice, but not nearly as memorable as Pat Bing Su. Plainly put, it was like nothing I have ever tasted before, a combination of cucumber ice, condensed milk ice cream, aloe vera, kiwi, and a puffed black rice.

As we scraped up the last of the melted remains of our dessert and the knowledgeable and friendly waitress brought our check, we sat back to absorb all we had just experienced. Would we be back to Parachute Restaurant again? The question was only a matter of when.