Saturday night—simple enough. You, a burger, a beer.
Served in a stunning example of turn-of-the-century architecture.
With escargots, 16-ounce veal chops and Pastis on tap—just as a standby. Like we said: simple enough.
Behold: Henri, a Gilded Age jewel box of French-tinged fine dining opening tomorrow across from Millennium Park, ready for your scotch-fueled power dinners, champagne-powered candlelit suppers or just a good prime beef burger devouring.
Henri is named for your favorite three-named Chicago architect, Louis Henri Sullivan, who designed the facade of the building. But keep in mind Sullivan’s edict: form follows function. So don’t let those mohair-backed chairs, black velvet walls and gilded mesh chandeliers distract you from getting down to the serious business of eating and drinking.
Enter what looks like Roosevelt University (because it is), but turn left in the lobby—we’d hate to lose you to the fall semester. You’ll find the tiny crescent bar ready for you with French aperitifs—yes, they’re on tap—or just something local like a Goose Island Fleur, which sounds French but we assure you is really quite Belgian.
Soon, depending on your evening’s agenda—business or pleasure—you’ll find yourself at a table, perhaps that two-person settee near the entrance, slurping oysters, then working your way to Honey-Glazed Duck Breast or a Slow-Roasted Lamb for Two.
Clients love to feel close to you.
Served in a stunning example of turn-of-the-century architecture.
With escargots, 16-ounce veal chops and Pastis on tap—just as a standby. Like we said: simple enough.
Behold: Henri, a Gilded Age jewel box of French-tinged fine dining opening tomorrow across from Millennium Park, ready for your scotch-fueled power dinners, champagne-powered candlelit suppers or just a good prime beef burger devouring.
Henri is named for your favorite three-named Chicago architect, Louis Henri Sullivan, who designed the facade of the building. But keep in mind Sullivan’s edict: form follows function. So don’t let those mohair-backed chairs, black velvet walls and gilded mesh chandeliers distract you from getting down to the serious business of eating and drinking.
Enter what looks like Roosevelt University (because it is), but turn left in the lobby—we’d hate to lose you to the fall semester. You’ll find the tiny crescent bar ready for you with French aperitifs—yes, they’re on tap—or just something local like a Goose Island Fleur, which sounds French but we assure you is really quite Belgian.
Soon, depending on your evening’s agenda—business or pleasure—you’ll find yourself at a table, perhaps that two-person settee near the entrance, slurping oysters, then working your way to Honey-Glazed Duck Breast or a Slow-Roasted Lamb for Two.
Clients love to feel close to you.
