Omnivorous columnist Mike Sula knows what he likes—and what he doesn’t. A good plate of chivo,

Zaragoza goes through five to seven young goats in a weekend, seasoning the meat with kosher salt before gently cooking it in a sealed steamer on a stovetop for up to six hours. Unlike most birrieros, he makes his consomme, which is tomato based, without drippings; it’s a method he learned by videotaping Segura’s wife, and it results in a clean broth without the fat and excessive saltiness that can ruin a plate of chivo. After steaming, he lightly applies an ancho-based mole to the meat and transfers it to an oven. He’s hired Guanajuato native Maria Guadalupe Jungo to come in a couple times a week to make tortillas on a mesquite wood press he brought back from La Barca. When these are freshly pressed and heated on the grill until slightly puffed, they’re an exquisite vehicle for the goat, lightly drizzled with the consomme and garnished with salsa, onions, cilantro, and lime. aBreakfast Sat-Sun, lunch Sun-Mon, Wed-Sat, dinner Mon and Wed-Fri, cash only, BYO, 4852 S. Pulaski, 773-523-3700. $

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The sandwiches on the board are divided between the rigorously authentic and appealing riffs on the classics. The cubano is a perfectly proportioned construction of light, cracker-crisp Gonella bread, mustard, pickle, ham, cheese, and mojo-marinated, house-roasted pork shoulder that fairly drips with flavor; it’s also used in the lechon sandwich. The steak on the palomilla, two breakfast sandwiches, and in a chimichurri-dressed sandwich is marinated in yet another mojo. I hate to use the word fusion, but that’s what Ghantous uses to describe some of his less traditional efforts, such as a Cuban-Italian hybrid of tomato, fresh mozz, and basil or a jerk chicken variant dressed with his habanero-lime mayo. He allows his Middle Eastern heritage to peek through on a roasted veggie version, swiped with jalapeño hummus. The less common, Argentine-influenced choripan—a dry, salty, Spanish-style chorizo with grilled onions and chimichurri—may not be for everyone, but it’s in the running for my sandwich of the year. Ghantous admits to having a heavy hand with seasonings, most evident in the garlicky chimichurri, which he makes a week in advance so the flavors have time to integrate. But the real secret to these phenomenal sandwiches lies in his sense of overall balance and proportion. Small-batch house-made salads fill out the backside of the menu, and the coffee comes from Tampa roaster Caracolillo. aBreakfast, lunch, and dinner, seven days, 26 E. Congress, 312-922-2233. $

I tried the tasting menu, and in general I preferred the early raw courses and amuses, usually exceedingly fresh pieces of fish judiciously accented with brilliant but not overpowering flavors: for example, a touch of the Basque chile powder Espelette with a crab ceviche, or a bite of tuna tartare and a slice of cured foie gras kissed with a bit of chocolate and tomato gelee. Not that I wasn’t awed by the later courses, but those were the only ones where I could find anything at all I didn’t like, and in most cases I was reaching. Among the most enjoyable: a textural duel between madeira-marinated morels and a fat diver scallop and a halibut fillet with a side of a rich, cheesy aligot drizzled with a zesty tomato-Chablis bouillon by the server. Like the halibut, many courses are finished tableside on wheeled gueridons, the delicate broths and sauces applied with a flourish—just some of the many gestures calculated to maximize the intimacy of this most rare of experiences, one that continues to haunt me. aDinner Sun-Mon, Wed-Sat, 2300 N. Lincoln Park West, 773-868-0002. $$$$$

The small bar and lavatories on the ground floor of the Blackstone Hotel serve as anteroom to the wide-open bi-level upstairs dining room, which somehow feels close in spite of its spaciousness. The menu is a bit intimidating in its depth and pricing, especially considering that these are small plates, but with the exception of a $13 grilled flatbread, most were pretty darn good. I can’t get my mind off the inky black, superrich fideua negra—angel-hair and baby squid topped with saffron aioli—and even an old standby like bacon-wrapped dates was distinguished by a tiny pitcher of blue cheese and skewered over a small bowl of frisee that helped cut the richness.

There were no surprises where the well-prepared duck-fat-fried chicken or crispy, juicy veal sweetbreads were concerned, but their respective foils—spicy, slightly pickled cabbage slaw and cream-kissed green peppercorn sauce—made all the difference in the world. A wild striped bass with more tiny shimeji mushrooms was bathed in a savory broth that came with its own spoon, and pork belly with steamed buns, mizuna, pickled daikon, and a dollop of mustard reminded me of one the greatest sandwiches I’ve ever had, at a now defunct Chinatown restaurant. We did encounter a few less successful dishes: a roasted duck breast and leg confit needed some crisping, potato-and-prosciutto-encrusted salmon was simply dull, and there was an ugly collision of sours in a sheep’s-yogurt panna cotta with a yuzu gelee overcoat. With a handful of expensive disappointments like that, I wouldn’t call this place a terrific value—but that doesn’t mean it isn’t mostly terrific. aDinner Tue-Sun, 1952 N. Damen, 773-772-6170. $$$

The dinner menu price of a typical entree is indicated by dollar signs on the following scale:

Blue 13 416 W. Ontario, 312-787-1400

The Bristol 2152 N. Damen, 773-862-5555

Duchamp 2118 N. Damen, 773-235-6434

Marion Street Cheese Market Cafe 100 S. Marion, Oak Park, 708-725-7200

Mexique 1529 W. Chicago, 312-850-0288

Mixteco Grill 1601 W. Montrose, 773-868-1601

Nia 803 W. Randolph, 312-226-3110

Perennial 1800 N. Lincoln, 312-981-7070

Real Tenochtitlan

2451 N. Milwaukee, 773-227-1050

Veerasway 844 W. Randolph, 312-491-0844