Latest Chicago restaurant reviews

John Shields and Karen Urie Shields’s two-for-one special in the West Loop offers elevated tasting menus upstairs and the city’s best burger (yeah, we said it) in the dark, sultry basement. But we're here to talk about what's happening on the ground floor, at Smyth, where diners can book a 2.5-hour, $285 tasting experience. The offerings change daily based on the couples' trips to a 20-acre farm located south of the city. The stunning and delicate dishes on offer incorporate fresh, seasonal produce, making every experience feel very, very special. The following review was published in 2017. The fine-dining sister to the Loyalist brings a comforting taste of Virginia to the West Loop. You’ll find some of the most interesting and indulgent dishes at Smyth. Case in point: On one plate, tender pieces of Dungeness crab are covered with slices of rich foie gras and scrambled kani miso (a.k.a. crab innards). It’s a small but powerful bite that oozes with opulent ingredients. It’s surprising, then, that it feels like you’re eating it in your best friend’s living room—if your best friend happened to be a particularly fantastic cook with impeccable taste in décor. It’s all part of the high-low mix that defines Smyth. The West Loop fine-dining destination is homey and welcoming with dishes that are truly over the top. That balanced dichotomy is all part of the vision for chefs and owners John and Karen Urie Shields (Charlie Trotter’s, Alinea), who dreamed up a happy, easy-going spot...

Chicago is home to a number of fine dining experience but few are able to match Oriole’s deft execution. Upon arrival, guests are escorted into a freight elevator and given a drink before the door opens to reveal the dining room. Though there’s no telling what chef Noah Sandoval has in store each evening, you can look forward to a minimalist style of cooking that puts the spotlight squarely on the premium ingredients. Acclaimed mixologist Julia Momose and beverage director Aaron McManus complement the food with inventive cocktails and an Old World-inspired wine list. The following review was published in 2017. It’s here, Chicago: Noah Sandoval has thrown down the fine-dining gauntlet with Oriole. It took some time wandering through River West on an icy, blustery night before we finally found the much raved-about Oriole—from industry vets Noah Sandoval, Genie Kwon and Aaron McManus. The door in the back alley is relatively unmarked, as if the restaurant knows it’s worth seeking out. And it’s not wrong. Here is a fine diner that gets everything right, right from the start: The moment we entered, the host whisked away my jacket and replaced it with a steaming cup of sochu-laced cider. It was like she was reading my mind. The room itself is a jaw-dropper—exposed brick gives a warm feeling, while tall wooden columns remind you that you’re in one of the trendiest neighborhoods in town. Pristine white tablecloths drape every table and napkins are folded perfectly. The first...

Springing from the mind of chef Grant Achatz, fine dining institution Alinea has been the recipient of numerous awards and is regularly named the best restaurant in Chicago (and the United States, for that matter), bringing culinary expertise and flawless service to each and every meal. In January of 2016, Alinea closed for renovations, reopening in May with a complete overhaul of the menu, tossing out the original one, which changed frequently, that had garnered the restaurant many accolades.  This was my first Alinea experience, which is a pretty big deal, not just because of its reputation, but also because I consider some of my first visits to other Alinea Group restaurants to be some of my finest eating and drinking experiences in Chicago. My first time at the Office—when I was invited down to the bar on a whim by my server at the Aviary—left me forever lusting after the browned butter bourbon concoction they whipped up for me. But Alinea was a bit different—my trip was planned in advance while avoiding all the murmurs about its magical new menu. I wanted to see it for myself. And it is magical. The food comes and goes effortlessly, wine glasses filled and replaced throughout the meal, with the sheer beauty of excellent service extending all the way down to your entry. We walked in and were immediately whisked to the second floor salon for the most affordable meal ($800 total for two diners including a wine pairing). The salon is meant for groups of one to six people,...

Restaurant review by Amy Cavanaugh While we were driving to dinner at Boka last weekend, my dinner date confessed: “All I want to eat for dinner is chicken.”  “You’re in luck,” I said. “Lee Wolen is a god of chicken.” When the Boka Group overhauled its ten-year old flagship restaurant earlier this winter, it made a few key changes. It revamped the space so it’s unrecognizable from its previous, staid incarnation—now, there’s a huge moss- and plant-covered wall (designed by former Time Out dining editor Heather Shouse’s Bottle and Branch horticulture company) with paintings of elegantly dressed-up animals; a bar area that feels like a boisterous brasserie, with dark leather, brick walls and dim lighting; and portraits of Bill Murray and Dave Grohl as generals. Bartender Ben Schiller had already departed for the Berkshire Room, and he was replaced with Tim Stanczykiewicz (GT Fish & Oyster, Balena), who handles the list of crowd-pleasing cocktails that don’t overpower the food, like a bee’s knees. And it brought in chicken god Lee Wolen, formerly chef de cuisine at the Lobby, to take over for GT Fish & Oyster’s Giueseppe Tentori. At the Lobby, Wolen’s star dish was a roasted chicken for two, a dish brought to Chicago from New York’s NoMad (the sister restaurant to Eleven Madison Park, where Wolen was a sous chef). It’s a different dish at Boka, but it’s still a knockout—lemon and thyme brioche is stuffed under the skin, then the breasts are roasted and the legs confited,...

A couple of weeks after Brendan Sodikoff opened Bavette’s, I started hearing reports. “It’s just like all his other spots,” a friend told me. “It’s exactly the same,” another said. Having now made a few visits to Bavette’s, I’m guessing these reports were based purely on conjecture. Which isn’t fair, except that, well, Sodikoff does have something of a track record. His first three restaurants act something like triplets, all with similar looks and personalities and food, but slightly different interests. Gilt Bar’s the clubby one. Maude’s is the aesthete. Au Cheval’s the hipster. Throw Doughnut Vault in there as the (pudgy) black sheep and you have a strong, if somewhat predictable, family of restaurants. Bavette’s messes with this metaphor. Contrary to the reports I heard, it’s a deviation, or, to put it in terms closer to my opinion, an evolution. The room is lit differently; golden light bounces between tufted red-leather booths and the mirrored bar. Like his other spots, the place is highly conceptual, but the concept—jazz-era steakhouse with light French touches—is more sophisticated. Sodikoff’s other spots are taste-specific; the loveliness of this one is, I believe, close to universal. You don’t even have to like steak. In fact, I had better luck with the chicken. The fried chicken is crazy good, the juicy wings encased in a flaky and crunchy crust; the roast chicken is otherworldly, with skin a very dark amber, delicate and moist flesh and a thickjus on the plate....

Jeong is the fanciest Korean experience in Chicago, bar none. Chef-owner Dave Park, who previously ran celebrated food court stall Hanbun in the suburbs, uses modern preparations to elevate traditional flavors. His tasting menu showcases gorgeous and inventive plates, like a disc of salmon tartare topped with doenjang yuzu gastrique, crunchy rice pearls and dollops of crème fraiche.  The following review was published in 2019. West Town has catapulted itself into one of the city’s finest dining neighborhoods, thanks in no small part to this Korean-American kitchen. Jeong’s salmon tartare arrived as a beautiful, pearlescent coral disk piped with tangy crème fraîche and sprinkled with toasted rice spheres. A smear of yuzu-doenjang gastrique imbued the lush fish with a murmur of umami and bright citrus. As I went in for more, I briefly time traveled back to 2010, where, as an impressionable culinary student in the very same building, I had another life-changing meal at Shawn McClain’s veg-forward Green Zebra. Back then, it was crispy rutabaga dumplings and smoked salsify risotto that opened my eyes to the promise of upscale plant-based eating in an era that embraced carnivorous menus. Now it was chef Dave Park’s harmonious crudo and nostalgic, schmaltz-toasted tteokbokki that had me exhilarated by this moment for Korean-American cooking. You may already know Park and co-owner/fiancé Jennifer Tran from Hanbun, their now-defunct Korean food stall in a suburban strip mall that...

Translating to "my namesake" in Spanish, Mi Tocaya is a term of endearment that chef Diana Dávila has bestowed upon her neighborhood Mexican restaurant in Logan Square. Dávila recreates childhood memories through her food, offering guests a lineup of soul-warming dishes like duck carnitas and fish in mole rojo. The guac, which is dusted with chile ash, is still on the menu, and a slate of cocktails rounds out the mix (the Ancestral Old Fashioned is brilliantly balanced and truly unique). The following review was published in 2017. Plenty of new Mexican restaurants have set up shop in Chicago over the last couple of years, but Mi Tocaya in Logan Square is one to watch. Upon opening the menu at this buzzy, modern eatery, your eyes will go straight to the tacos (and you should order a few of those), but the antojos section is where you’ll find chef Diana Dávila’s best work, like the timeless fish con mole and the lobster-studded esquites. Start with an order of the house guacamole, which is showered in smoky chile ash and served with a generous helping of warm tortilla chips. The peanut butter y lengua appetizer—braised beef tongue with peanut butter salsa, pickled onions and grilled radish—is another crowd pleaser for first-timers and adventurous eaters alike. (Even if you're not a huge tongue fan, we recommend giving this dish a go.) A table of four hungry diners should be satisfied with three to four shareable antojos. Just know that you won't find typical Mexican-American...

Italian food is meant to be shared, and at Monteverde, that's never an issue. Fill your table with a smogasboard of small plates, handmade pastas and shareable mains (read: they're freakin' huge). You absolutely mustn't skip the burrata e ham starter—which comes with warm English muffin-like rounds called tigelle—nor the spaghetti al pomodoro, a simple but soul-affirming dish that stars Grueneberg's spot-on roasted tomato sauce. The following review was published in 2016. A top chef serves her own take on Italian classics Sarah Grueneberg left Spiaggia to open her own restaurant, Monteverde, in late 2015, but while she brought along the masterful Italian techniques she honed there, she left the fine dining trappings on Michigan Avenue. At Monteverde, the Top Chef alum's wonderfully relaxed West Loop restaurant, assistant servers wear Blackhawks hats, a TV flips on when the hockey game starts and a gluten-free menu is featured prominently on the website—a nice touch for a pasta-focused restaurant.  That menu is important, since the pastas are the main draw. Made in house, they’re all perfectly cooked and accompanied by sauces and ingredients that look surprising on the menu, but make sense once you’ve taken a bite. The cacio whey pepe ratchets up the classic with four peppercorns and whey, so it’s creamy and intensely peppery. To make the wintery tortelloni di zucca, Grueneberg stuffs squash into delicate pasta, then serves it with apples and bacon. If you sit at the bar,...

At some point during a recent meal at Schwa—between the pad thai and the arctic char roe, I believe—a chef came out of the kitchen with two small plates. As he explained that each plate held a lone quail-egg ravioli, I’m pretty sure I had the same reaction as everybody else who got the gratis course: relief that Schwa’s quail-egg ravioli days were not yet gone; relief that I could still indulge in Michael Carlson’s greatest hits. I wish I could resist calling them that, or ignore the fact that the Schwa chefs look like they just stumbled out of a van straight from South by Southwest. But Schwa’s plight has too much in common with the quintessential rock & roll story to not talk about it in musical terms. There’s the almost instantaneous celebrity the restaurant acquired when it opened in 2005, the fanatic crowds that clamored for Carlson’s food, the awards that were quickly bestowed (a Food & Wine Best New Chef Award), the “breaking up” of the original team, the rumored excessive partying, the sudden collapse of the restaurant five months ago and, now, the return—the second album, if you will. Happily, this is where the analogies to music start to weaken. Everybody knows sophomore efforts seldom hold up to debuts. But Schwa appears to have returned from its hiatus unscathed. The first dish of the progression, a plate that combined Jonah crab with roasted banana, celery and coriander, set the tone for the entire evening: The dish’s seemingly incongruous elements melded...

Chicago is home to some of the best steakhouses in the world but few can match the vibe and aesthetic of Maple & Ash. Upstairs on the posh second floor dining room, you’ll spot groups of 20-somethings celebrating birthdays, couples on date nights or power brokers doing business. Chef Danny Grant’s menu aims to please with delicacies like caviar, fire-roasted seafood towers, dry-aged beef and truffle agnolotti. Oh, and save room to build your own sundae for dessert. The following review was published in 2015. The Gold Coast steakhouse marries irreverence with spot-on takes on classic dishes. I didn’t expect to find myself in the middle of a clubby lounge in a steakhouse at midnight, but Maple & Ash inverts expectations. You enter the Gold Coast restaurant through a crowded bar, then take the elevator upstairs to a lively lounge before being whisked into the calm, elegant dining room. I also didn’t expect the chef's choice option to be called "I Don't Give a Fuck” or the “Baller” seafood tower, but I did expect classic steaks and sides from chef Danny Grant and exceptional wines from sommelier Belinda Chang.  The dichotomy places Maple & Ash in line with other new steakhouses, like RPM Steak, Swift & Sons, STK and Boeufhaus, which update classic dishes while offering a cooler ambience than old-school spots. The meal begins with a round of freebies—a mini gin cocktail, citrus-cured olives, nubs of Hook’s cheddar and radishes with butter—to snack on while you peruse the menu....

Of all things, it was a fried corn silk garnish that made me well up during the fourth “Ravioli” course at Cariño, Uptown’s spectacular Latin American tasting menu restaurant from co-owner/executive chef Norman Fenton.  What’s maybe more noteworthy about this dish, in which al dente ravioli stuffed with puréed huitlacoche laze in truffle beurre blanc beneath a wave of corn foam, is that truffle isn’t rained on top like dollar bills. Rather it’s deployed subtly to enhance the corn smut’s woodsy, fermented qualities. Adorning the bowl’s edge with dehydrated corn and “popped” sorghum, the corn silk looked like little singed hairs. It tasted grassy and toasty, unlocking a childhood taste memory of eating ineptly shucked, grilled corn on the cob with butter. This stuck with me as I unearthed the grain’s diverse expressions one by one, then in a chorus—buttery, minerally, toasty, earthy like mushrooms, gently acidic, sweet as if sun dried. And I cried, just a little.  This was one of countless moments that solidified my sense that Cariño might be the best dining experience in Chicago right now, and a redemption of the tasting menu, which too often feels like it’s reaching for Michelin stars to the point of wanton tedium. Yes, you’ll find some fine-dining hallmarks: molecular gastronomy, occasional Wagyu and a truffle or two. Yes, there’s a hint of chef-bro one upmanship, namely a dessert in which a perfectly fried churro is doubly overpowered by foie gras mousse and a spiced...

John Shields and Karen Urie Shields’s two-for-one special in the West Loop offers elevated tasting menus upstairs and the city’s best burger (yeah, we said it) in the dark, sultry basement. But we're here to talk about what's happening on the ground floor, at Smyth, where diners can book a 2.5-hour, $285 tasting experience. The offerings change daily based on the couples' trips to a 20-acre farm located south of the city. The stunning and delicate dishes on offer incorporate fresh, seasonal produce, making every experience feel very, very special. The following review was published in 2017. The fine-dining sister to the Loyalist brings a comforting taste of Virginia to the West Loop. You’ll find some of the most interesting and indulgent dishes at Smyth. Case in point: On one plate, tender pieces of Dungeness crab are covered with slices of rich foie gras and scrambled kani miso (a.k.a. crab innards). It’s a small but powerful bite that oozes with opulent ingredients. It’s surprising, then, that it feels like you’re eating it in your best friend’s living room—if your best friend happened to be a particularly fantastic cook with impeccable taste in décor. It’s all part of the high-low mix that defines Smyth. The West Loop fine-dining destination is homey and welcoming with dishes that are truly over the top. That balanced dichotomy is all part of the vision for chefs and owners John and Karen Urie Shields (Charlie Trotter’s, Alinea), who dreamed up a happy, easy-going spot...

Our first attempt to dine at Parachute HiFi, the casual, no-reservations remake of the James Beard Award-winning Korean restaurant, was thwarted by a formidable, if good natured, line that stretched out the door onto Elston Avenue, where a chilly wind howled.  “Actually, this is the line to put your name in,” someone told me, as I ’scused my way through the disco-lit entryway toward the host stand. Instead, my starved companions and I begged off down the street to Anelya, the terrific Ukrainian restaurant owned by the same couple, chefs Johnny Clark and Beverly Kim, where a few bar seats still remained after 6pm on a Saturday.  We showed up much earlier on our second, successful, attempt, around 5:30pm, on a Wednesday. Suffice to say, you’ll want to arrive early if you’d rather not wait at Parachute HiFi, which is proving to be as popular as its predecessor. Then again, to experience this Tokyo-style listening bar as intended, you’re better off braving the wait at a later hour—then immersing yourself in the din, served with refreshingly informal drinking food and quirky cocktails. A bracing Greek Salad Martini with cucumber feta vodka and vermouth tasted less like its namesake than a pleasantly sweet and balanced take on the pickle martinis cropping up everywhere. The Pickled Ginger recalled a tiki-flavored Dark ’n Stormy. Prickly, sweet Milkis (the creamy Korean soft drink), caramelly dark rum and warming turmeric mellowed the clean, bright one-two punch of ginger and...

Springing from the mind of chef Grant Achatz, fine dining institution Alinea has been the recipient of numerous awards and is regularly named the best restaurant in Chicago (and the United States, for that matter), bringing culinary expertise and flawless service to each and every meal. In January of 2016, Alinea closed for renovations, reopening in May with a complete overhaul of the menu, tossing out the original one, which changed frequently, that had garnered the restaurant many accolades.  This was my first Alinea experience, which is a pretty big deal, not just because of its reputation, but also because I consider some of my first visits to other Alinea Group restaurants to be some of my finest eating and drinking experiences in Chicago. My first time at the Office—when I was invited down to the bar on a whim by my server at the Aviary—left me forever lusting after the browned butter bourbon concoction they whipped up for me. But Alinea was a bit different—my trip was planned in advance while avoiding all the murmurs about its magical new menu. I wanted to see it for myself. And it is magical. The food comes and goes effortlessly, wine glasses filled and replaced throughout the meal, with the sheer beauty of excellent service extending all the way down to your entry. We walked in and were immediately whisked to the second floor salon for the most affordable meal ($800 total for two diners including a wine pairing). The salon is meant for groups of one to six people,...

Chicago is home to a number of fine dining experience but few are able to match Oriole’s deft execution. Upon arrival, guests are escorted into a freight elevator and given a drink before the door opens to reveal the dining room. Though there’s no telling what chef Noah Sandoval has in store each evening, you can look forward to a minimalist style of cooking that puts the spotlight squarely on the premium ingredients. Acclaimed mixologist Julia Momose and beverage director Aaron McManus complement the food with inventive cocktails and an Old World-inspired wine list. The following review was published in 2017. It’s here, Chicago: Noah Sandoval has thrown down the fine-dining gauntlet with Oriole. It took some time wandering through River West on an icy, blustery night before we finally found the much raved-about Oriole—from industry vets Noah Sandoval, Genie Kwon and Aaron McManus. The door in the back alley is relatively unmarked, as if the restaurant knows it’s worth seeking out. And it’s not wrong. Here is a fine diner that gets everything right, right from the start: The moment we entered, the host whisked away my jacket and replaced it with a steaming cup of sochu-laced cider. It was like she was reading my mind. The room itself is a jaw-dropper—exposed brick gives a warm feeling, while tall wooden columns remind you that you’re in one of the trendiest neighborhoods in town. Pristine white tablecloths drape every table and napkins are folded perfectly. The first...

A couple of weeks after Brendan Sodikoff opened Bavette’s, I started hearing reports. “It’s just like all his other spots,” a friend told me. “It’s exactly the same,” another said. Having now made a few visits to Bavette’s, I’m guessing these reports were based purely on conjecture. Which isn’t fair, except that, well, Sodikoff does have something of a track record. His first three restaurants act something like triplets, all with similar looks and personalities and food, but slightly different interests. Gilt Bar’s the clubby one. Maude’s is the aesthete. Au Cheval’s the hipster. Throw Doughnut Vault in there as the (pudgy) black sheep and you have a strong, if somewhat predictable, family of restaurants. Bavette’s messes with this metaphor. Contrary to the reports I heard, it’s a deviation, or, to put it in terms closer to my opinion, an evolution. The room is lit differently; golden light bounces between tufted red-leather booths and the mirrored bar. Like his other spots, the place is highly conceptual, but the concept—jazz-era steakhouse with light French touches—is more sophisticated. Sodikoff’s other spots are taste-specific; the loveliness of this one is, I believe, close to universal. You don’t even have to like steak. In fact, I had better luck with the chicken. The fried chicken is crazy good, the juicy wings encased in a flaky and crunchy crust; the roast chicken is otherworldly, with skin a very dark amber, delicate and moist flesh and a thickjus on the plate....

Taking up residence in the former Winchester space is a modern Filipino-American concept from husband-and-wife team Tim Flores and Genie Kwon (Oriole).  During the daytime, Kwon’s pastries and options like chicken adobo and a killer breakfast sandwich cause lines to form down the block. But at night, Kasama transforms into a 13-course fine dining experience full of bold and exciting flavors.

Restaurant review by Amy Cavanaugh While we were driving to dinner at Boka last weekend, my dinner date confessed: “All I want to eat for dinner is chicken.”  “You’re in luck,” I said. “Lee Wolen is a god of chicken.” When the Boka Group overhauled its ten-year old flagship restaurant earlier this winter, it made a few key changes. It revamped the space so it’s unrecognizable from its previous, staid incarnation—now, there’s a huge moss- and plant-covered wall (designed by former Time Out dining editor Heather Shouse’s Bottle and Branch horticulture company) with paintings of elegantly dressed-up animals; a bar area that feels like a boisterous brasserie, with dark leather, brick walls and dim lighting; and portraits of Bill Murray and Dave Grohl as generals. Bartender Ben Schiller had already departed for the Berkshire Room, and he was replaced with Tim Stanczykiewicz (GT Fish & Oyster, Balena), who handles the list of crowd-pleasing cocktails that don’t overpower the food, like a bee’s knees. And it brought in chicken god Lee Wolen, formerly chef de cuisine at the Lobby, to take over for GT Fish & Oyster’s Giueseppe Tentori. At the Lobby, Wolen’s star dish was a roasted chicken for two, a dish brought to Chicago from New York’s NoMad (the sister restaurant to Eleven Madison Park, where Wolen was a sous chef). It’s a different dish at Boka, but it’s still a knockout—lemon and thyme brioche is stuffed under the skin, then the breasts are roasted and the legs confited,...

My inner child protested the first couple bites of Spaghetti Uh-O’s in vodka sauce, the delightful reimagining of Campbell's canned pasta rings, at Void, the cheffy Italian-American newcomer in Avondale.  “These anelli pasta are al dente, not mushy and waterlogged!” she objected. “The tomato sauce tastes rich, tangy and complexly sweet, not like tinny V8 juice! And these luscious little meatballs taste homemade, not like feedlot beef and filler!” The dish itself is comforting and familiar, deep with the long, slow caramelized flavors good chefs coax out best—making this an especially delicious trick to play on our nostalgic palates. No wonder I’ve watched more Spaghetti Uh-O’s leave the kitchen than any other dish each time I’ve eaten here, and that servers seem to genuinely relish the tableside flourish of emptying the Void-branded can into a bowl and showering the pasta with ground Parmesan. It’s giddy fun but not gimmicky, encapsulating what I already love about this easygoing neighborhood restaurant.  Owners and friends Tyler Hudec, Dani Kaplan and Pat Ray have been in the restaurant and bar industry for 15 years; they met while working at Analogue, which closed in 2016. The trio opened Void (named for the absence of preconceptions—and maybe the only thing I don’t like about Void) in August in the bygone Moe’s Tavern. They used the bar’s old bones to their advantage since the restaurant—low lit and dressed in warm, earthy wood tones, antique paintings, stained-glass...

We've rounded up the best chefs in the city to join us at Time Out Market Chicago, a culinary and cultural destination in the heart of Fulton Market. The 50,000-square-foot space houses more than 15 kitchens, three bars and one drop-dead gorgeous rooftop terrace—all spread across three floors. Our mission is simple: Bring Time Out Chicago to life with the help of our favorite chefs, the ones who wow us again and again. You'll find delicious dumplings from Qing Xiang Yuan, mouthwatering burgers at Gutenburg, fried chicken from Art Smith's Sporty Bird and extravagant milkshakes from JoJo's shakeBAR. If you're thirsty, sit down at one of the Market's bars to enjoy a menu of local beer, a robust wine list or a creative seasonal cocktail. And keep an eye out for events, concerts and artwork within the Market throughout the year—we're keeping our calendar packed with things to do.