The living legacy of Chicago’s Lula Café

Kiki Aranita catches up with Jason Hammel to talk a quarter of a century of a Chicago Institution.

My perfectly round, over easy egg splayed upon a bed of farro was adorned with a pinch of shaved shallots and an artistic scattering of feathery dill and lavender dill blossoms. A trout scramble plate was arranged with the same care, as well as the plate of housemade noodles topped with a tiny avalanche of shaved cheese, a triumphant poached egg, and nasturtium petals spaced two inches apart. The vibrant plates that arrived in front of me, in succession, were an exercise in controlled, thoughtfully seasonal decadence. This miniature parade took place on a sunny summer day before this year’s James Beard Awards. I was catching up with a former food writing student at Chicago’s Lula Café. We were both enchanted. Every seat in the restaurant was occupied. The farmer’s market a few steps from its front doors was bustling. The sum of all these pieces was magic.

I was stunned to find out the following day, as Lula Café won the JBF Award for Outstanding Hospitality to deafening applause, that the restaurant was coming up on its 25th anniversary. How does a restaurant maintain its magic for a quarter of a century? How does it feel so current, so relevant, and exude such an easygoing grace after all this time?

Back home in DC, I called up Lula Café’s chef and owner, Jason Hammel, to inquire about the restaurant’s history and see what else he had on the horizon. The answer to the latter, which I’ll address first, is: a lot.

“We’re opening a new space around the corner from Lula,” Hammel began. “It’s a little sister project called Loulou, which will be a creative, multifunctional space for pop-ups and interesting chef talks. There will be performances, cookbook dinners, a small retail component for art.” Loulou will be a natural extension of the Lula brand, and be devoted to fostering creativity in the community, balancing the original Lula’s now-entrenchment in serving its diners as a restaurant. “My wife and I are artists first and cooks second or even third,” said Hammel, referring to his musician partner and Lula co-founder, Amalea Tshilds. “Lula used to be full of these events and we’d have music regularly and charity events, but the restaurant is too busy to do that stuff. And we really miss it. [Loulou] will be an opportunity to deepen your experience between food, life, and culture. And that’s what I want to do with my time now—investigate what it means to live a life through food and hospitality.”

Hammel is 52 now, which means he opened Lula Café in his 20s. “I was 27 and giving it a shot, making my own path. That still resonates here. Most people who work for me are in their 20s and they’re making their own paths.” Hammel continued, “We’re turning 25, which is not something that happens every day. For 20, we had a block party and I started thinking about the chefs I wanted to invite, but I couldn’t invite all of them.” Hammel settled on five chefs per night and a weeklong celebration, comparing it to a multi-day long wedding that simultaneously celebrates their community and Chicago connections. Each night, proceeds will be donated to charities connected with its guest chefs.

Even as Hammel reports Lula is too busy to accommodate dedicated community events, hence the opening of Loulou, its walls tell another story. “We’ve had an in-house curator since day one and four curators over this 25-year history, all artists in their own right.” The curators select the rotating pieces that are displayed on Lula’s walls and sometimes customers purchase pieces off the wall. “The art program at Lula is serious. There’s a story that is true but unconfirmed. Once, during a freshman orientation at The Art Institute of Chicago, the president said, ‘Go to Lula to see local art.’”

At this point, I start salivating (akin to my experience when I was dining upon the succession of beautiful dishes at my brunch in June). I personally have an art career that exists in parallel with my careers as a chef and food writer and editor. Hammel and I get to chatting about fiber art practice, the intersection of food and sculpture, and how art can frequently comment on the issues in the food landscape—in my case, how detrimental synthetic textiles can be to the environment, which of course, also produces the food we consume.

Charitable events, art, fellow chefs, deep dives into foodways—these are hallmarks of Lula, and they’re all threaded together with its signature brand of hospitality. I asked Hammel about what it was like to accept that JBF Award for Outstanding Hospitality and he responded, “It was the highlight of my career for sure. We’ve tried really hard. We’re not perfect. This was a team award that touches everybody.”

And how does the current Lula Café compare with its first iteration? “We’re much better resourced and much larger. It’s more refined than it was in 1999. The standards are elevated, but the heart is the same.” Chicago and its surrounding neighborhood have also changed significantly since the ‘90s, but “it’s independent and Logan Square’s restaurant scene is chef-driven, full of indie, carefully tended restaurants, bars, and coffee shops. We don’t have a lot of corporate chains and I’m proud of that.” I asked Hammel about his former employees that have gone on to run their own projects, and he rattles off a list so long I can barely keep up. “Jason Vincent owns Giant, Chef’s Special, and Pizza Matta. I have ex-employees running Rootstock, employees who started distilleries like Letherbee Gin. A former bartender just opened a place called Deep Red down the street. I have people who are musicians from lots of great bands, a guy who is a kickboxing pro. So many people have done amazing things since they’ve been here.”

After talking with Hammel, I solicited intel from my Chicago friends, asking on Instagram what Lula Café meant to them. Dozens of voices slid into my DMs. “Lula Café is a special place for me and my husband, Brady. We often went to celebrate occasions like birthdays or anniversaries,” my college roommate, Chandani Patel, told me. Others echoed her recollections. “One of the reasons I miss Chicago,” said someone who had moved away from the city. “I brought first dates there.”

“It was the first place I took my newborn daughter in 2003.”

Others celebrated weddings at Lula and the day they picked up their marriage certificates. Hospitality consultant Carleigh Connelly said, “I grew up in downtown Chicago and fell in love with food because of my mom, and restaurants because of the city. My mom passed away right before my 12th birthday and a friend brought me to Lula the first year they opened, about a year after my mom’s death). It was unlike any restaurant I had been to. Everything was so thoughtful, comforting, and beautiful. Whenever I go to Lula, I think of my mom—and can’t help but celebrate with a great glass of wine.”

Thoughtful, comforting, and beautiful—as a visitor to Chicago, that was my impression of Lula Café, too.