Review: Asador Bastian doesn’t have to be a steakhouse to rank a cut above the rest
By the time I gracelessly gnawed the last scraps of meat off a beef bone at Asador Bastian, ignoring the stares from suit-clad strangers, I realized my steak assumptions needed updating.
I knew something was up from the moment the sliced steak landed in front of me. Instead of blackened to a crisp in a broiler at 1,600 degrees Fahrenheit, the meat wore a dapper brown crust thanks to the charcoal-fueled grill. The interior may have been cooked to medium-rare, but it gleamed like a garnet. Around the perimeter ran a layer of golden-hued fat.
The latest project from couple Doug Psaltis and Hsing Chen is modeled on the asadores, or grill houses, of San Sabastián, a city perched on the Bay of Biscay along Spain’s northern coast. But it also intentionally challenges many of Chicago’s seemingly sacred steak traditions.
I always thought the best steak came from cattle that were less than 2 years old. If fed the right diet, this produces beef that’s extraordinarily tender and loaded with fat. But as is common in northern Spain, Asador Bastian proudly serves steaks from older cattle. In fact, all the beef served here comes from cattle at least 30 months old, with some nearly 12 years old.
While prime beef from younger cattle cuts like butter, it can also come across as mild and a little greasy. But the meat here showcases a clear, unfiltered beefiness that’s immensely savory without getting weighty. It does have a slightly more toothsome texture but remains remarkably succulent. In the past month, I’ve devoured two of the finest steaks I’ve tried in years.
But Asador Bastian is decidedly not a steakhouse. It doesn’t call itself one, and it breaks so many steakhouse conventions I lost count. There is no wedge salad, shrimp cocktail or creamed spinach. Instead of a massive dining hall that could host hundreds, Asador Bastian has a modest 55-person dining room, with a smaller bar located a floor below. “People are ready to dine in a different way,” Psaltis said. “We don’t have a burger either.”
Another breach: Asador Bastian serves one cut of beef, and only one: a thick bone-in rib eye called a txuleton in Basque. Want a petite filet mignon or a massive porterhouse? Tough.
While the txuleton is the only cut available, you can choose from a rotating selection of five cattle producers. Start with the Galiciana from Vintage Beef Co. in Australia. With its yellow-tinted fat and striking interior color, it’s a fascinating first step into this style. You’ll also find domestic beef from places like Lone Creek Cattle Co., Four Story Farms and Peacock Cattle Company. To see them up close, ask to visit the dry aging room behind the bar.
By listing where all the meat comes from, Psaltis wants to show Asador Bastian takes sourcing seriously. “We are trying to serve the best boutique beef in the world,” Psaltis said.
You will pay handsomely for that privilege. All the meat is priced per pound, with the restaurant’s Signature Collection going for $81 per pound. Since it’s served bone-in, good luck scoring a steak for under $100. Go ahead and double that if you order one from the Luxury Boutique Beef section, which goes for $140 per pound.
There’s no way to skate around these costs. Responsible cattle rearing costs, but that won’t stop a flood of emails informing me a rib-eye from Outback Steakhouse costs a quarter of this eye-popping price.
If it helps, Asador Bastian actively encourages guests to split their showstopper. As Psaltis told me before opening, “this is a place where we share a steak.” The menu even states the beef is cooked over coals and sliced to share. Though this also means everyone sharing has to agree on the same final temperature.
Fortunately, you’ll want to order other things, especially the seafood. Like Psaltis and Chen’s first restaurant, the excellent Greek-influenced Andros Taverna, all the fish is imported from markets in Barcelona and Athens. The couple also brought in chef Christian Eckmann, who spent time in Spain honing his skills, to lead the kitchen.
While you can order an enormous turbot for the table, the smaller options are entrancing. The restaurant cures its own sardines and anchovies, which come out with a pleasingly firm texture and a hazy saltiness reminiscent of a seaside stroll. If you’ve ever been scarred by cheap tinned seafood, these might be a revelation.
The restaurant also offers a terrific tortilla española. The classic Spanish dish is about the size of a CD and contains supremely thin and soft slices of potato encased in creamy eggs. Even random side dishes showcase a careful eye from the kitchen. Though it sounds like something you’d reluctantly scoop up at a school cafeteria, the melody of vegetables features cauliflower, peas and artichokes so impeccably cooked my guest and I polished off the whole plate.
Save as much room for dessert as you can. With Chen leading the pastry program, there are no plate-sized slices of chocolate cake. Instead, each is petite and impeccably prepared. “I really wanted to create a dessert menu with a lot of variety that was portion size appropriate,” Chen said. “I want people to enjoy more than one dessert.”
I took her up on the challenge. Require a palate cleanser? The delicate citrus coupe provides a bright and invigorating finish. Need chocolate? Go with the golden chocolate hazelnut cake, which is pretty enough for a Parisian pastry case and accented with unexpected pops of crunch. Ready for a jolt? The springy rum cake comes with a hearty shot of booze drizzled on top.
Sadly, I failed to try all the cocktails. Considering one of Chicago’s finest mixologists, Paul McGee, consulted on the drinks, I’m confident they are exceptional. But after trying the Spanglish, that’s all I wanted to sip. This sterling take on the martini features gin, Spanish vermouth and Manzanilla sherry, fortified Spanish wine. Batched out ahead of time and kept in a bottle chilled below freezing point, the drink arrives in a thick little glass, along with a fat green olive. Each sip is silky, aromatic and seductive.
Tiny and seductive also neatly describes the River North restaurant. It’s located in the Flair House, a townhouse originally built in 1883, which was named in the 1960s by Flair Communications’ owner Lee Flaherty. This probably won’t mean much to the majority of diners, especially considering not much but the exterior survived the recent renovation. But the interior already has the lived-in feeling of an old-school Chicago classic, one where everything is on the verge of feeling cramped, yet still comes off as cozy and vibrant.
As excited as I am about Asador Bastian, its eccentricities and prices will undoubtedly alienate some. If sharing a steak strikes you as sacrilege, not to mention caring about the specific farm where a cow once grazed, you’ll probably leave disappointed. But for those who claim steak as their ultimate culinary indulgence, this restaurant offers an experience like no other in Chicago.
nkindelsperger@chicagotribune.com
Asador Bastian
214 W. Erie St.
312-800-8935
Tribune rating: Excellent, 3 stars
Open: Wednesday, 4:30-10 p.m.; Thursday to Saturday, 4:30-10:30 p.m.; Sunday, 4:30-10 p.m.; closed Monday and Tuesday
Prices: Starters $14-$28; main courses $39 to well over $200; desserts $14-$18
Noise: Conversation-friendly
Accessibility: Elevators are available for wheelchairs
Ratings key: Four stars, outstanding; three stars, excellent; two stars, very good; one star, good; no stars, unsatisfactory. Meals are paid for by the Tribune.