Al Primo Canto
I’d had a memorable meal on a stormy night at the Edgebrook location of this Brazilian churrascaria and galeteria, so I was surprised and dismayed by the middling quality of the “endless feast” on offer at the new place, housed in the former Le Lan. For $29.95, you get starters, sides, three pastas, and three meats, including the marinated grilled young chicken that gives the restaurant its name. But will you really want all that? The hummus that started the meal was tasty, as were a simply dressed salad and light polenta sticks with Parmesan. And off the a la carte menu, oven-roasted calamari with green olives and beans would have been excellent if it hadn’t been so ridiculously oversalted. But the pastas were just OK, and the centerpiece of the meal was a low point, the steak tough and chewy and the oily chicken flavorless, though the lamb was respectable. Most dismaying were a couple of items that had been standouts on my earlier visit: cheese balls were lost under the pita wedges in the bread basket, and by the time we stumbled across them were cold and gluey rather than the airy morsels I recall. And my favorite dish the first time around, crisp twice-fried potatoes served with Gorgonzola sauce, turned up pallid and soggy. Service was alternately pandering and patronizing, and we were hustled out without an offer of dessert or coffee. —Kate Schmidt
Born of a catering operation specializing in trade shows, this airy Parisian-style cafe with a perpetual soundtrack of bland jazz has a slick corporate feel showcasing a lineup of breakfast, sweet and savory crepes, hot and cold caffeinated uppers, and a smattering of house-made sweets and pastries. From the modish design to the plastic utensils and patio furniture, you could easily imagine this as the first link in a long and middling chain. —Mike Sula
The Ritz-Carlton Chicago has been trying to get its lobby restaurant right for years, but the latest incarnation, Deca Restaurant + Bar, isn’t any more likely to attract locals than the last cafe. The 12th-floor location is among the problems, along with intrusive white noise from the lobby’s iconic fountain. High expectations for what is now the ritzy hotel’s only dining option may also play a role—if I’d had the same meal at the same price in a neighborhood bistro, I’d have been happy. True, the steamed mussels were cooked until shriveled and came without the french fries listed on the menu, but our cold appetizers were terrific. The chicken liver and foie gras mousse, in a canning jar under a skim of sauternes jelly, was as silky, flavorful, and delicate as could be, and the warm, lightly toasted brioche buns transformed it into comfort food for adults. Perfectly prepared leeks vinaigrette paired with Fourme d’Ambert blue cheese and caramelized walnuts—as well as a drizzle of olive oil and barely a hint of vinegar—will go on my year’s best list. Grilled lamb “cutlets” turned out to be four little quite salty chops, but they were cooked as ordered and arrived atop decent ratatouille. I’d return just for the aptly named Deca-dent chocolate cake, ten espresso-moistened layers finished with chocolate frosting. Wines currently are half price Sunday through Thursday, which makes sampling from the more than 40 available by the glass affordable rather than astronomical. Service wasn’t as attentive as it should have been. —Anne Spiselman
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Our server proposed chile con queso, which he enthusiastically let us know was a “kind of Velveeta,” and while we appreciated his innocent honesty, our appreciation for anything at Dos Diablos turned out to be short-lived. Despite their logo photo of Cheech and Chong-looking Mexican banditos, Dos Diablos traffics in what might best be called Ameri-Mex, a mutant cuisine where vapid flavors vie with volume as the predominant characteristics of most dishes. The three-and-a-half-pound chimichanga is “free” if you can ram it down in less than 20 minutes. A much smaller Big Chimi was advertised as “crispy golden brown” but seemed merely dipped in oil, a thick tube of soft and salty starches and proteins. Guacamole (“The best in town!”) was thin and soupy; taco salad (“Eat the bowl!”) was like any other you’ve ever seen; table salsa was just about flavor-free, and chips seemed poured from a gigantic food service bag. A special of lobster tacos tasted basically of the two primary ingredients, seafood and tortilla, and at $22 were not cheap. Our side salad was dressed in a sour and stinging vinaigrette; the chocolate tamale, a “molten” sauce served in a corn husk, was welcome in that it signaled the end of dinner. This is a hopping place, well packed after work on a weeknight, perhaps because it fronts a hot strip of Hubbard. But eating at Dos Diablos filled us with remorse—this is depressing food at inflated prices ($10 for a Michelada? Banditry!). —David Hammond
An improbable-sounding Polish pizzeria actually makes some sense here in the midst of Kleinerland, keeping company with Gioco and Opera and the Mexican funhouse Zapatista, with which it shares owners. Pies are Chicago-style cracker crust, attractively misshapen and charred, but regrettably too thick and doughy for the style. An interesting range of toppings is offered, and the handful of specialty pies (Italian beef, buffalo wing) is trumped by the Flo’s Polish. Topped with kraut, kielbasa, and bacon, it isn’t the train wreck you might imagine, as its novel elements are mitigated by an abundance of cheese and tomato sauce. Big booths, big TVs, lots of beer, sandwiches, and twists on bar snacks such as blue cheese waffle fries, flying pork wings, and a generous $5.99 pierogi sampler served with kraut, sour cream, and thick, chunky applesauce add up to an agreeable spot to while away some hours in the South Loop. —Mike Sula
