Latest Chicago restaurant reviews

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...

I was a little startled to find, on entering Alinea Group’s remake of Roister into the bro-y, all-caps FIRE, that the room felt dark and serene, awash in gray and black like the remains of a fire that burned out hours before. Then again, what was I expecting—licking flames climbing toward the ceiling to match machismo decor with all the subtlety of Guy Fieri?  Even Fire’s hearth, aglow with live flame and framed with suspended leeks and juniper branches, exuded a controlled kind of softness, crackling gently as half a dozen chefs milled around it wielding fans, blowtorches, branches, brushes, stones, misters and cast iron … irons. It’s an important metaphor for how fire is deployed at Grant Achatz’s first new restaurant in eight years—as much precise seasoning as multifaceted and elemental cooking method. A glowing log slowly diffuses its smokiness into an ice cream base, and hot stones and damp branches gently steam shellfish. When it works, it is revelatory. Take the opening course, which conveyed three miniature expressions of hearth-“seasoned” Spanish prawns atop a charred wood box heavy with stones and seaweed. A tiny shiso leaf “taco” packed an umami bomb of cold-smoked prawn meat seasoned with crunchy garlic and chocolatey barrel-aged soy sauce, like oceanic forcemeat. Grilled prawn shells infused a prescriptively decadent bisque shooter with toasty depth. A technicolor prawn tail, steamed till tacky-soft like crudo, was shellacked with raw honey and garnished with...

You can practically feel the soul oozing from the menu at this Hyde Park restaurant. It's because chef Erick Williams cooks with his heart, whether he's plating fried green tomatoes with tender shrimp and creamy rémoulade or he's fixing his famous collards, which arrive studded with hunks of smoked turkey meat. Second only to the food is the ambiance, which is sexy without trying too hard—perfect for a cozy date night. The following review was published in 2019. Erick Williams’ ambitious solo venture captures the depth and scope of Southern cooking with soul-satisfying results. When I ask Erick Williams, the chef/owner of Virtue, to describe the inspiration behind his effusively warm, broad-spectrum Southern restaurant in Hyde Park, he heaves a long sigh. “I want to be thorough,” he says, pausing again. “The food is inspired by the Southern experience of cooking.” That sentiment encompasses centuries of chosen and forced migration, strife and survival, and the collision of myriad regions and ethnicities—which Williams channels into satiating, elevated fare at his solo debut. The menu’s boiled-down dish descriptions (pork chop, salmon, shrimp) all but hide the intense attention to detail that he devotes to techniques and sourcing methods. It's a reminder that we're here to be fed, first and foremost. “What’s with this place? I keep dropping people off here,” our Lyft driver commented as we pulled up to the Hyde Park storefront that formerly housed A10. Inside, the soaring...

“Is there a rule that at a certain hour every River North restaurant has to change their soundtrack?” my dining companion asked me as club-like beats started playing in the background at Tanta right at 9pm. At first glance, the new Peruvian restaurant feels like just another River North restaurant—a huge colorful mural on the wall lends a festive vibe, there’s a long bar where guys in suits are drinking vodka on the rocks and the restrooms are located downstairs. But once you move away from the bar and start eating and ordering off the cocktail menu, things at Tanta feel different. It’s more serious, more delicious, and the crowd skews older, with most tables filled with several generations. Tanta is the third American restaurant from Peruvian celebrity chef Gastón Acurio and his first in Chicago. Acurio has more than 30 restaurants around the world, including La Mar in San Francisco (a New York location of La Mar closed last month). He also has Lima’s Astrid y Gaston, which is on the World’s 50 Best Restaurants List. It’s also his third Tanta—there are already outposts in Lima and Barcelona. It may be because of this that Tanta is strong right out of the gate—service is prompt and knowledgeable and despite a few minor quibbles, chef Jesus Delgado’s kitchen is turning out dishes that are nuanced and thoughtful. Peruvian cuisine draws on influences from cultures that emigrated to the country, especially Japan and China, and Tanta’s menu reflects flavors and techniques from...

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,...

Chinatown’s Richland Center mall is a Windy City favorite for cheap, authentic Asian eats: its food court counts excellent Filipino, Japanese and Chinese vendors among its yummy offerings. In the latter category, we flock to Qing Xiang Yuan, a sleek, recently renovated sliver of a restaurant steaming up delicious dumplings in a variety of flavors. The lamb and coriander variety, bursting with juicy, well-seasoned meat, is our fave, but we’re also partial to pork and zucchini and shrimp and leek dumplings.

Beyond the whole eating-for-survival thing, what endears so many of us to food on a deeper level is its ability to tell a story. In Tzuco’s quenching ceviche verde, for example, you can almost taste pure, cold Pacific Ocean in pearlescent slivers of hamachi, which are paired with three expressions of cactus, a plant that thrives in the most unforgiving locales. The prickly flora is served cured, iced and juiced with mint, lime and a whisper of serrano chile. Together, the elements sing of Mexico’s varied bounty. Each bite I savored at Tzuco seemed to smack of deeper meaning, sparking curiosity about the storied place that inspired this restaurant and its name, along with its famed chef/owner who has roared back into Chicago’s dining scene following an 18-month hiatus. Chef Carlos Gaytán hails from Huitzuco, a town in southwestern Mexico aptly named for the Nahuatl word “huixochin,” meaning plants with abundant thorns. When he was 20 years old, he came to the U.S. on a borrowed passport and worked his way up from dishwasher and cook to eventual chef/owner of Mexique, his French-infused Mexican restaurant that helped make him the first Mexican-born chef to receive a Michelin star. Vowing he’d be back again one day, Gaytán closed the award-winning destination in 2018 and left town to open a restaurant in Playa del Carmen. He made his triumphant return late last year with three eateries that showcase the breadth of Mexican gastronomy. Commanding the entire southwest corner of...

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,...

The first thing you’ll notice as you enter Alla Vita is the striking interior design, and it doesn’t exactly evoke a quaint Italian village or a mom and pop osteria. With rows of flowing curtains hanging from the ceiling on one half of the restaurant and a pergola draped with greenery arched across the other side, there’s an otherworldly quality to the Boka Group’s latest concept. It’s a self-assured and effective aesthetic decision, because Chef Lee Wolen doesn’t need stacks of canned tomatoes or checkered tablecloths to signify authenticity—the food on your table does the heavy-lifting. Moving from the delicately-plated, Michelin-starred American fare of Boka (where Wolen is still executive chef) to the hearty Italian cuisine of Alla Vita, Wolen approaches his latest menu with gusto. The array of dishes isn’t as expansive as the Cheesecake Factory's tome, but you’ll need to plan out your carb-heavy meal strategically, especially if you want to sample the housemade pasta, wood-fired pizza and entrées like the chicken parmigiana or a ribeye steak in a single sitting. Thankfully, my date and I were especially hungry by the time we arrived for dinner at 9:30pm (you’d do well to plan your visit well in advance, because the more desirable reservations fill up particularly quickly). While I sipped a robust riff on a Manhattan called the Walk of Fame (developed by Boka beverage director Anna Thorn), we ordered a feast that began with an order of arancini. Sporting a delightfully...

I often find myself the minority in conversations where people argue that pasta is meant for home cooking. “Why go out and pay $18 for something I can make myself?” they ask. Maybe because I love delicate handmade tagliatelle as much as red sauce-drowned, bottomless pasta bowls at Olive Garden. No matter what side of the argument you fall on, Joe Frillman’s noodle-centric Logan Square spot makes a compelling argument for going out for pasta—if only for a single, beguiling bowl of tajarin. But let me back up. Earlyish on a weeknight, the mister and I were seated without a wait at one of the low wood tables lining a built-in bench opposite a long, minimalist bar. The space (which formerly hosted dearly departed Analogue) has a narrow, crowded front dining room. The still-intimate back room offers a bit more space and overlooks a serene patio. The vibe here is casual and relaxed, with lots of brick and wood accentuated by cheerful veggie watercolors by Frillman’s sister Carrie. I started with the cucumber spritz, a bright, easy-drinking, tequila-spiked salve to Chicago’s 105 percent humidity. The sweet-meets-earthy beet old-fashioned was a clever, more direct route to washing away the day’s woes, especially when sipped alongside fried shiitakes and cheese curds, which oozed just enough inside. We dunked them in tangy tarragon ranch, basking in churched-up taste memories of our Upper Midwestern college days. Our second starter, silky duck fat-cooked carrot rillettes, was...

The rooftop restaurant and bar at the Chicago Athletic Association Hotel offers some of the best views of the city, with an expansive look at Millennium Park and the Lake. The drinks, from Nandini Khaund, are mostly balanced, and very pretty, while the American food is also mostly well-executed and comes in massive portions and is designed for sharing.

In a city full of sweeping views, everyone wants to be on top. But this tri-level venue is the tippy top of all rooftop bars. Located on the 21st floor of LondonHouse Chicago, LH Rooftop affords guests stunning vistas of the architecture along the Chicago River and Michigan Avenue. The only downsides: You'll have to arrive early if you want to find a seat, and the drinks aren't cheap. We recommend staying for a glass of bubbly, enjoying the view and moving on.

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.

Upon entering this breathtaking riverfront oasis, you might catch yourself wondering if you've been transported to a faraway destination. An offshoot of the popular West Town dining destination by the same name, Beatnik On the River draws inspiration from the ’50s and ’60s, offering dishes and drinks from around the globe. The best tables in the house are on the 80-seat patio, which sits along the Chicago River and is outfitted with colorful tile, Indonesian daybeds and fringe-lined umbrellas. Order a glass of bubbly and stay awhile. 

This all-day concept from Lettuce Entertain You serves lunch and dinner, with a menu centered around hand-stretched pizzas, artisanal pastas and grilled seafood. Expect Italian-influenced appetizers like Parmesan fries, spicy tuna bruschetta and fried zucchini flowers to start. The pizza lineup includes nine pies that are crafted with stone-ground Midwestern grains, in flavors like charred pepperoni, Margherita and vongole bianco, the latter of which is topped with little neck clams, roasted garlic, Parmesan and Calabrian oregano. Heartier, sea-kissed entrees include cold water prawns, split garlic lobster and Atlantic seafood brochette.

I was a little startled to find, on entering Alinea Group’s remake of Roister into the bro-y, all-caps FIRE, that the room felt dark and serene, awash in gray and black like the remains of a fire that burned out hours before. Then again, what was I expecting—licking flames climbing toward the ceiling to match machismo decor with all the subtlety of Guy Fieri?  Even Fire’s hearth, aglow with live flame and framed with suspended leeks and juniper branches, exuded a controlled kind of softness, crackling gently as half a dozen chefs milled around it wielding fans, blowtorches, branches, brushes, stones, misters and cast iron … irons. It’s an important metaphor for how fire is deployed at Grant Achatz’s first new restaurant in eight years—as much precise seasoning as multifaceted and elemental cooking method. A glowing log slowly diffuses its smokiness into an ice cream base, and hot stones and damp branches gently steam shellfish. When it works, it is revelatory. Take the opening course, which conveyed three miniature expressions of hearth-“seasoned” Spanish prawns atop a charred wood box heavy with stones and seaweed. A tiny shiso leaf “taco” packed an umami bomb of cold-smoked prawn meat seasoned with crunchy garlic and chocolatey barrel-aged soy sauce, like oceanic forcemeat. Grilled prawn shells infused a prescriptively decadent bisque shooter with toasty depth. A technicolor prawn tail, steamed till tacky-soft like crudo, was shellacked with raw honey and garnished with...

Serving pizza to Chicagoans since 1949 (although this location opened in ’65), Vito and Nick’s is the king of thin-crust pizza done Chicago-style. With Old Style on tap and the Bears on TV, surly waitresses shuffle bubbling-hot pies to a full room of revelers. The crispy but pliant crust, tangy sauce and top-quality sausage separate this pizza from other Chicago thin-crusts. The wait times for pie can run a little long on weekends, so order your drinks by the pitcher, and enjoy a true Chicago scene. (Or, thanks to a glut of national attention after the Food Network blew through town, scan the walls for plenty of reading material.)

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...

Hailed by many as Chicago’s pastry and sweets queen, Mindy Segal closed her beloved Bucktown restaurant Hot Chocolate in 2020. She made her triumphant return this past summer with a new project just a few blocks away, where folks will find a trove of baked goods. Open Thursday through Sunday, Mindy’s Bakery offers sweet and savory Danishes, quiches, sticky cinnamon rolls, cookies, breads and much more. We suggest getting giardiniera cream cheese to spread on your bagel and a dog biscuit for your four-legged BFF.