I hate the casual arrogance implied by those two words—the best—particularly when they’re applied to the infinite universe of food, but really when they’re applied to anything at all. You could spend a lifetime reading, listening, watching, eating, and chances are you still wouldn’t have read, heard, seen, or eaten nearly enough to know what’s “the best.” And in a year when the relentless tide of new restaurant openings barely slows despite the crappy economy, it only becomes more improbable that anyone could definitively identify some platonic ideal of Best New Restaurant.
A seemingly bottomless ramekin of light and fluffy brandade studded with sweet corn could have used a bit of salt, but for $5 it’s hard to complain. Simple salads, like one of superfresh pea shoots and pea leaves gilded with an outstanding house-made ricotta, were as refreshing as morels and ramps with French breakfast cheese and potato gaufrettes were rich and intense. And Sanders’s preference for simplicity doesn’t rule out unorthodox presentations. The menu features a “pasta of the moment,” which on one visit was a light, feathery pappardelle rolled upon itself with meatballs made of beef and pork and served with wild mushrooms—more like a messy dumpling than a plate of noodles, but very tasty. Silky sliced Amish chicken thigh with smoked pistachio mousse on polenta was among the most memorable poultry dishes I’ve tried recently, and grilled lamb sirloin sat atop an unforgettable celery root risotto, a saucy mound of starch also available as a $5 side.
Cibo Matto The name’s Italian for “crazy food,” but there’s nothing inherently kooky about what’s being served at Cibo Matto, the third and most anticipated of the new restaurants at the Wit Hotel. Still, compared to State and Lake, its relatively safe and boring downstairs neighbor, it is pretty remarkable—especially considering both are operated by the 16-unit empire Concentrics Restaurants. In fact, Cibo Matto could pass as Spiaggia’s more playful, easygoing younger sibling.
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What does an Atlanta-based operator know about how to play restaurant in Chicago? For one thing, it enlisted chef Todd Stein, who racked up a lot of goodwill in his time at MK and makes an impressive departure from the contemporary American he focused on there, shifting to irreverent upscale Italian with a slight preference for sea creatures. It’s on the pricey side, with most antipasti and pastas ranging from $11 to $16 and entrees hovering around $30. So it helps that many of these dishes have compelling stories a server can sell: the grilled octopus gets simmered with a wine cork; the bone-in halibut fillet is custom cut by the purveyor to maximize flavor; mascarpone creamed spinach was repeatedly and unironically touted by one waiter as “off tha hook.” In most cases the plates lived up to their pitches—that octopus, abetted by salsa verde and pickled pearl onions, might have been the most tender and perfectly cooked cephalopod I’ve preyed upon in recent memory, and the grilled halibut yielded all the promised flavor.
To say Chen makes things look easy, though, would be to overlook his facility with sea creatures, like a special of baby scallops, luscious, perfectly cooked, and served in spicy miso broth, or the just-over-wobbly scallops and shrimp he pairs with firm vegetables in a red seafood curry. Fourth courses move from sea to land with dishes like spicy lamb chops in bonito-plum sauce with sprigs of thyme and Chen’s takes on Chinese-American classics like General Tso’s chicken and orange beef. Light desserts—vanilla ice cream with a sphere of mango-tomato sorbet or an unpitted poached peach enrobed in green apple sorbet and sprinkled with poppy seeds—serve as a proper punctuation mark. 605 W. 31st, 312-949-1314, han202restaurant.com. $ —Mike Sula
Taxim Seems like Chicago’s been waiting since the Bronze Age for someone to challenge the gimmicky orthodoxy of Greektown, a place to take tourists more than a place to take expectations of a memorable or original meal. But at Taxim, former caterer David Schneider, with the help of sous chef Jan Rickerl (Green Zebra, Scylla), has raised the bar for what passes as serious, interesting regional Greek food. The brass lanterns in this Byzantine lounge, a dramatic scrubbing of the late Wicker Park dive Big Horse Lounge, (dimly) expose some of some of the freshest yet oldest ideas in village cuisine: humble, seasonal ingredients in simple, wonderful dishes like fresh-shelled favas with yogurt and lamb confit, a recipe from a mountain region where the traditional use of animal fat reflected a scarcity of olive oil.
The third wave in Xoco’s attack are the fresh-fried churros, best accompanied by bean-to-cup hot chocolate lightly spiced with chile or spiked with cow or almond milk. Though these are available all day long, they’re the reason I still haven’t gotten too deep into the breakfast menu, which may be the most varied set of offerings all day—empanadas, pastries, breakfast tortas, savory bread pudding. The dining area is cramped and awkwardly arranged, and a good number of seats face directly into a wall. But takeout is now available at breakfast and after 3 PM; if you want to eat in, mid-to-late afternoon is a relatively expeditious window. 449 N. Clark, 312-334-3688, www.rickbayless.com/restaurants/xoco.html. $$ —Mike Sula
