Alinea Restaurant, Chicago

Chef Grant Achatz signed our menus after a recent palate-bending dinner at Alinea, writing “Refine and Redefine!” Our meal of a lifetime at this Michelin three-star restaurant on Chicago’s North Side left no doubt that Achatz follows that credo. He razzle-dazzles with wildly unconventional presentations, exploding traditional notions of how food should be served, but his flawless technique ensures that each course remains grounded in powerfully complex flavors.

Alinea fostered a down-the-rabbit-hole feeling from the moment we arrived, with a glowing-red forced-perspective entry hall. We received no menus after we sat down — it’s the $195 per person tasting menu or nothing. Menus arrive only at the end, as souvenirs of the experience.

Feeling extravagant, we ordered the accompanying wine pairing, ringing in at a bracing $150 per person. Upgrades are available for those in a truly decadent, raid-Junior’s-college-fund mood. We sipped our flute of Louis Roederer Brut with Malaga Moscatel and Lillet, and the parade of 19 courses began its three-hour route across our table. Many were remarkable, and some were simply unforgettable.

A few examples:

#1: Five tiny “cocktails” — fruity, alcohol-infused amuse bouches — started things off on just the right topsy-turvy foot.

#4: A bowl of beautifully roasted root vegetables, maitake mushrooms and chestnut cream rested in a larger bowl filled with hot water, dried oak leaves, sticks, straw and sliced apple and pumpkin. As the earthy flavors of the vegetables mingled with the aroma of the leaves and other autumnal detritus, the season completely enveloped us. (Paired with an unusual Blanc de Morgex et de la Salle from the Val d’Aosta.)

#5: In a small tumbler, a marble-size sphere of horseradish floated in a cool bath of celery juice. When we drank the concoction, the delicate apple cider-filled ball burst in our mouths, flooding our palates with sudden flavor.

#9: Stuck on a long pin, a sphere of potato topped with a shave of black truffle hovered over a shallow bowl of decadently creamy potato soup. Pull the pin out of the bowl, and the potato drops into the soup. When we drank the soup and sphere — one hot, one cold — the blast of umami shook us to our toes. (Paired with a deeply rich Quinta da Viçosa from the Alentejo.)

#10: Linking the reactionary with the radical, Achatz recreated “Pigeonneau à la Saint-Clair” from an original Escoffier recipe, going so far as to serve the rich, subtle dish of pigeon on antique china with antique silverware to match. Crystal goblets etched with an appropriate turn-of-the-century pattern held the elegant 2004 Chateau d’Angludet from Margaux.

#12: Inevitably, not all 19 courses succeeded equally well. Though competently prepared, the three lamb medallions with various toppings left us flat.

#14: In a large bowl, ribbons of caramelized white chocolate swirled atop comforting chunks of shortbread dotted with yolk-like globs of vibrant lemon curd. To really bring us into the tearoom, the bowl’s weight slowly deflated a pillow filled with the aroma of Earl Grey and vanilla. (Paired with De Bortoli’s “Noble One” — an Australian version of Sauternes.)

#19: Achatz himself composed our final dessert on a freshly laid silicone tablecloth, covering its entirety with little circles of vanilla crème, squares of chocolate and dramatic swishes of apricot and raspberry reductions, topping it all off with a moon rock-like chocolate mousse so cold that fog cascaded over the table. As he created this last course on our table, Achatz resembled action painter Georges Mathieu more than Alain Ducasse.

Alinea’s prices clearly reflect this impressive blurring of fine dining and high art, and paying a small fortune for avant-garde cuisine will not appeal to everyone. But for lovers of cutting-edge, experimental gastronomy, it’s worth the money. Measured against the cost of a plane ticket to Spain and the near-impossibility of securing reservations at elBulli, Alinea even starts to look like a bargain.