Say you’re the sort of person who calls a sandwich a “sando.” I’m the sort who will instinctively cringe at your oafish approach. That’s just one small thing that peeved me in advance of my time spent at Dragon Ranch. The new Asian-inspired barbecue joint is the creation of Rockit Ranch Productions, the same group that brought you such concentrated animal feeding operations as Rockit Bar & Grill and Sunda, as well as the militarized meat market Underground.
Best of Chicago voting is live now. Vote for your favorites »
Yes, Dragon Ranch’s grilled cheese, the BLT, the banh mi, and even the David Chang-style steamed buns are categorized as “sandos,” which is surely the most infantilized culinary term since “foodie.” A menu written in Fieriese is a good way to make a bad first impression (don’t get me started on “fix’ns,” which is what they call the side dishes here), particularly if a restaurant expects to be taken seriously focusing on the one American food that inspires more argument than any other. So, I was steeling myself in preparation for Dragon Ranch’s lineup of spare ribs, pulled pork, and brisket, said to be smoked on a custom-made rig. These are served in half and whole portions, along with rotisserie chicken and a half roasted duck—and some are available on a trio of sandwiches (you can’t make me type that word again).
That’s another ominous sign. Smoking meat consistently well takes serious commitment—it’s wise to be wary of dilettantes. And the same should apply to purveyors of ramen. So let’s start there: no iconic bowl of soup has been more misrepresented in this town than ramen, but Dragon Ranch’s has some surprisingly worthy components that add up to a bowl better than most. As far as I know, this is the only kitchen in town making its own ramen noodles, and these are interesting if unorthodox; fresh, a bit undercooked, and floury, they generally do a nice job of swamping down a salty, dark, pork and chicken broth, graced by a soft-cooked duck egg with a molten yolky core and a superabundance of braised pork cheek. The latter throws the whole bowl a bit out of proportion, but overall it’s not a bad effort.
The glitzy commercial country soundtrack floating above communal tables set alongside the open kitchen could use some D.A.C. piped in. It’d be more convincing, but I’m sure it would scare off Dragon Ranch’s intended audience.
441 N. Clark 312-955-1900dragonranch.com
