cuisine art
...caesar salad
Graham Elliot Bowles started feeling the pains in his
chest shortly after moving to Chicago. It was 2005,
a few months after he had left his post as chef
at the Jackson House Inn, packed up everything
he owned, given away his dog and driven to the
Windy City from Vermont. At the time, he was just
starting his gig at Avenues in Chicago’s Peninsula
Hotel. He had already graduated from the most
prestigious kitchens in the city, working under Rick
Tramonto and Charlie Trotter.
Bowles had felt the pains before and ignored
them. But this time was different. He was having
trouble breathing and could barely walk. Afraid
he was having a heart attack, he checked into a
local emergency room and found that it wasn’t
his heart that had come under attack—it was his
nerves. Bowles’ ambition had practically killed
him.
Graham Elliot Bowles had decided early on that
he wanted Avenues to be a four-star restaurant.
He spent more time in the dining room than in the
kitchen. He knew the food was solid and wanted
the service to match. He kept close tabs on what
was being said about his food online and in the
press; anything that was even slightly negative
tore him apart. He was, by all measures, a man
