Burrowing Into Fine Dining
Underground Chef Efrain Cuevas takes haute cuisine to new depths
By Suemedha Sood
Two nude platters—a woman and a man—lay flat on a long banquet table. Positioned side by side in opposite directions, their heads rest at either end of the table. Plastic wrap loosely covers their naked bodies. Atop the protective sheaths lies a decadent buffet of luscious bite-sized morsels: Black grapes slathered in ginger cream cheese and honey, candied in crushed almonds; strawberries in chocolate cream, rolled in crushed pistachios; raspberries covered in cinnamon cream and crushed macadamia nuts; dates in goat cheese, nutmeg, and honey, wrapped in prosciutto.
Guests giggle nervously as they approach the human platters. They speak in hushed voices, like children exchanging secrets in the back row at church. One by one, they reach for the delicacies, careful to touch only the fruits, avoiding direct contact with the bodies underneath. They serve themselves as quickly as possible. Some look a bit embarrassed, blushing as they make sure to smile politely at the faces of the nude models. Others do their best to ignore the fact that they’re plucking food from intimate body parts. They smirk and titter giddily as they hurry back to their seats.
Chef Efrain Cuevas’s nudist approach to the French concept of amuse bouche attempts to excite more than just taste buds.
Observing the scene from the open kitchen of this Chinatown loft, Cuevas laughs to himself as he continues work on his next course. He sneaks a few looks over at the diners who, first caught off guard by the nudity, are now gushing over the first course. He’s won them over with more than innovative presentation; the meal itself is a success.
“Chefrain” Cuevas is the kind of fresh new talent that Chicago foodies flock to, and that critics can’t wait to either discover or destroy. A MacGyver in the kitchen, he can turn a box of Quaker Oats instant-grits (cost: $2.49) into a gourmet meal. But you won’t find him in any of Chicago’s best restaurants. And you’ll be hard pressed to find reviews of his work. That’s because he’s an underground chef.
Cuevas’s business is underground restaurants. His less-than-legal traveling bistros show up in new lofts, art galleries, gardens, warehouses, vineyards, parking lots, somewhere different in the city each week. Guests find out about the dinners solely by word of mouth and make their reservations online. The only information they have in advance is the pre-fixed menu and the name of the chef crafting it. They don’t even know where they’ll be dining until hours before they are served. The day of the event, guests receive an email with the location and two rules: BYOB and BYO-floor cushion.
Cuevas got his start in the world of underground eateries at a wandering supper club in the East Bay area called the Ghetto Gourmet. He was responsible for bringing the outfit to Chicago earlier this year and has organized 18 dinners under that banner. This September, he’ll launch his own hidden supper club and the newest underground restaurant to hit Chicago: 24Below.
