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If you can get past those inconveniences, you’ll encounter a formidable kitchen. After finishing some grilled greens and crusty bread soaked in an anchovy slurry, followed by toothy pappardelle pasta with a sort of cheesy Bolognese sauce, I realized that this wasn’t at all the Italianized pub fare I’d expected.
Of course, celebrating the essential flavor of fresh, good ingredients is as central to the Italian kitchen as to the sushi bar, and purity of flavor needn’t mean austerity. Take that ridiculously rich ravioli: complex layers of meat, pasta, and Parmigiano glazed with porcini mushroom sauce. It’s reasonably portioned, though, and—despite loads of butter—not overwhelmingly heavy.
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Strong, oily mackerel, ever a challenge, materialized as two squared, pan-seared fillets atop a bed of Israeli couscous a la puttanesca, the capers, olives, and onions providing a stern rebuke to the main event. The gamberi carciofi—grilled, peppery shrimp with tempura-style artichokes—suffered only from an unnecessary salsa verde. And half a Cornish hen was stripped to the essentials: crispy skin and tender, juicy meat seasoned, as far as we could tell, with just salt and pepper. Dessert dialed it back even further with a classic panna cotta served with pomegranate seeds, black sea salt, and a balsamic reduction—an elegantly acidic trio that played off the custard’s creamy simplicity.
Mastro’s menu offers the diner many opportunities to become a victim of its flaming train wreck of excess. You can upgrade or customize your selections for every course. The signature appetizer is the seafood tower, which can be built to spec with oysters, Spanish caviar, king crab, and the like. The shellfish emerges from the kitchen on platters of billowing dry ice, uplit by flashlight-toting waitstaff. But when the smoke clears, all that’s left is some presplit, waterlogged crab legs.
New Too
This spacious sport-themed strip-mall wing joint wedged between a Filipino bakery and a Korean barbecue picks up heavy after-school traffic from Mather. Varieties range from the cloying—Hawaiian, dressed with pineapple puree and shaved coconut—to the brutish; the Chicago Fire is amped with raw minced jalapeño. My favorites are the moderately spicy Italian garlic. There’s also a selection of burgers, salads, and sides including waffle-style sweet potato fries, dusted, bizarrely, with sugar and maple cinnamon. —Mike Sula
Due Lire Vino & Cucina 4520 N. Lincoln, 773-275-7878
Mastro’s Steakhouse 520 N. Dearborn, 312-521-5100mastrosrestaurants.com
