• Michael Gebert
  • Henry Adaniya (right) at the Aviary, with Acadia chef Ryan McCaskey

Grant Achatz’s time at Trio, from 2001 to 2004, is the subject of Next’s latest menu, but if Achatz got his start as a head chef there, Trio didn’t start with Achatz by a long shot. The Evanston restaurant was already ranked among the most creative and innovative fine dining restaurants in the Chicago area—along with Charlie Trotter’s, Ambria, Cafe Provencal, Carlos, and others of its day—and the job Achatz got was open because it had just lost Shawn McClain (Spring, Green Zebra), who’d replaced Rick Tramonto and Gale Gand when they left to start Tru. The personality consistent through Trio’s 12-year run, from 1994 to 2006, wasn’t any of the chefs but, rather, owner Henry Adaniya, who set out to offer a unique dining experience at a high, but also relaxed and accessible level of service. And who also, he points out bemusedly, turned Achatz down twice before finally hiring him.

I think a lot of the difference, as I reflected on it today, is that Trio was about this particular moment in time. Right at the start of the introduction of modernistic cuisine in Chicago. We were attempting to do things that had never been done before. There were probably spots of it across the globe, but to introduce it to the midwest, which has typically been [home to] a conservative diner, was really quite a feat. Spending that time at Tuesday’s event . . . that was very touching for me, to be honored that way. It’s hard for me to realize the impact that it had and I had on the people who were there.

When I opened Trio, a good friend of mine, and we had conspired together about working together, was Takashi [Yagihashi, of Takashi and Slurping Turtle]. As I was putting my business plan together, he was my man. But Lettuce Entertain You saw the same value in him that I did, and gave him a position that he couldn’t refuse [chef de cuisine at Ambria].

Eventually it led to flying him in for a tasting. And the week of he says he can’t come, I’m sick. And I’m like, “Yeah, there it is, sure, you’re sick, tear the ticket up.” Chalk it up. But he calls like two days later and says, “I’m coming.” And I’m like, all right, I’ll follow up. Of course he arrives, and he looks like he’s dead. Knowing Grant today and what he’s been through, he’d have to be on his deathbed not to do anything. He has amazing stamina, but he was truly pale and frail. But he pulled off a flawless tasting, it was Thomas Keller, all the abilities of an incredible chef that he exhibited.

Definitely. And, really, the service was an integral part of pulling that off, because you could not set those dishes down and walk away. It required some interpretation, and I knew that we’d have to hold some hands with people and introduce them to what we were doing. And still it wasn’t easy—even some critics were like, ho-ho, this is really a step outside the box, waaaay outside the box, we’re halfway down the street with this.

I always looked at myself kind of like a gallery owner. I found a great piece of art, and it’s hey, come and look at this, share this, appreciate this. We gave them that platform to build on. Because without that support, without adapting that restaurant to each of the different chefs—a lot of owners say, no, you’re going to do this food. I said, we’re going to do your food. Even if it’s a little risky at times, we’re going to push it.