Ciao Amore Ristorante
Ciao Amore, a somewhat out-of-the-way place with lots of ambition and space to grow, is still getting its act together, though it promises to be quite a show. The cardboard-stiff Italian bread we started with and the cold coffee we closed with were sad, but what came in between was consistently delicious and at times exceptional. Chef Cesar Pineda responded enthusiastically to our request to just bring whatever was looking good. A salad of green beans, mozzarella, oregano, and garlic dressed in balsamic had marvelously simple flavors. Ciao Amore’s zuppa Barese—the chef’s mother is a native of Bari—was a rich and substantial cream soup of hard-boiled egg, noodles, and potato. Vegan-friendly minestrone was more like a dense vegetable stew infused with roasted garlic, a savory take on a classic. Ethereal house-made gnocchi—here sheets of pasta stuffed with cheese and pesto—were draped in three sauces including an off-menu mushroom cream sauce that was fantastically lush. Osso buco had a delicate texture and sturdy taste and, laid on a bed of cavatelli splashed with a light vegetable-studded tomato sauce, was beautifully balanced. With most entrees between $16 and $22, Ciao Amore offers a high-value, high-quality dining experience. —David Hammond
Some savor authenticity; for others, it’s all about the flavor. Neither, unfortunately, will be found at Cosina Grill, an Andersonville restaurant inexplicably jammed on a weekday night. Guacamole was so stunningly tasteless it could have been mistaken for green mashed potatoes or mayonnaise. The touted Dona Esperanza mole, ladled on a spongy chicken breast, tasted of burnt tar, with none of the sauce’s traditional complexity; we couldn’t stomach more than a bite or two. The tortilla soup, our server told us, was too spicy for many guests, but we found it had no heat at all. The enchiladas? Also nada. Grilled tilapia was edible because it was just decent fish, not messed with, and so relatively benign though bland. Our hostess, who like everyone here was friendly and outgoing, told us the tortillas were made in-house, but they managed to have the flavor and mouthfeel of mass-produced varieties. Leaving Cosina, I wanted to grab newcomers on their way in and shriek, “For God’s sake, flee!” —David Hammond
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At Falafill you select decently prepared falafel in a pita or a plastic bowl, then challenge gravity by piling on toppings from a staggering collection. Add-ons like fava bean puree and hummus, available for a surcharge, are superfluous: each order gives you access to the regularly replenished and formidable condimentarium of cabbage with mint, zhug (jalapeño and cilantro), taratour (tahini with lemon), and dozens of other colorful options. White and sweet potato fries can also be drizzled with selections from a battery of hot, sweet, and sour sauces. With migraine-inducing interior lighting, a Denny’s inspired color scheme, and cramped quarters, this Boystown newcomer seems best for grab-and-go dining. —David Hammond
Say bye-bye Buenos Aires Forever (guess not) and hello Kyu Sushi. Spiffed up some, this little storefront has a hip vibe. But much of the business is takeout and delivery—it only seats 20-25. Still, we had no problem getting a weeknight reservation and were pleased by the sushi-focused menu, reasonable prices, and prompt, friendly service. Cold openers included a disk of tightly packed gomae topped with rich sesame-peanut sauce and a refreshing salad with little pieces of hirame ringing seaweed and seeded cucumber in a light vinaigrette. Most of the hot appetizers were solid versions of the standards: panfried gyoza with a smooth pork filling, dainty beef and asparagus rolls glazed with sweet teriyaki sauce, piping-hot shrimp tempura served with soy-ginger and wasabi-mayo sauces rather than the usual tempura sauce. Our nigiri sushi featured thick cuts of fish—the mackerel was heavily pickled—on average rice balls, but no wasabi. A long list of maki ranged from negi hamachi with yellowtail and potent scallion to una avo, an inside-out roll of freshwater eel and avocado. Hot entrees are limited to teriyaki, tempura, soft-shell crab curry, and udon noodles. For dessert: tempura green-tea ice cream or deep-fried bananas. —Anne Spiselman
This new empanada joint from the owners of Las Tablas, just a few doors up the street from the original Lincoln Avenue location, offers simpler fare in a casual but elegant space filled with hardwood furnishings (incongruously, though, food arrives on paper plates with plastic knives and forks even if you’re dining in). A half dozen varieties of empanadas range from tender, savory chicken with pepper sauce to sweet dulce de leche and banana; they’re fried fresh with each order and arrive hot enough to burn your mouth even after several minutes, partly thanks to the thick corn-flour shells. Other offerings consist mostly of side dishes you could easily build a meal with, like red beans, rice, chorizo, fried yucca, arepas, and salad. Aborrajado, or fried plantain covered with guava and melted mozzarella, was on the sweet side for a main dish but could double as a good dessert. There’s also a small store area with Colombian coffees, music, crafts, and specialty foods. —Julia Thiel
