Latest Chicago restaurant reviews

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...

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...

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,...

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,...

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...

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...

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...

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.

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...

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 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.)

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.

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...

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.

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,...

For a long time, we Midwestern Great Lakers kept many of our choicest food secrets in our grocery stores, delis and unassuming corner taverns. I’m talking about chunky smoked whitefish dip; oily giardiniera heaped on Italian beef; tangy beer cheese; crisp-edged hash; and charred, meaty burnt ends. What a time to see these ingredients reimagined with fine-dining ingenuity and breathless seasonality at places like Giant, Daisies and now five-month-old Nettare.  Nettare—meaning “nectar,” in reference to the restorative nature of good hospitality—is the debut restaurant of longtime bartender-turned restaurateur Conner O’Byrne (Publican, La Josie), with food helmed by executive chef John Dahlstrom (BLVD, Table, Donkey and Stick). This all-day cafe with a retail shop has the hipster, something-for-everyone vibe that’s pervaded openings since the pandemic. Despite the airy, plant-filled environs, Nettare’s food—punchy, rich and brackish on a recent April evening—recalls the embrace of a neighborhood joint with knotty-wood walls in, say, Petoskey, Michigan, or a timeworn Chicago beef stand. But friendly Midwestern comfort is merely a jumping-off point in the capable hands of Dahlstrom and company. The elongated, brick-walled space unfurls as a regionally focused market and bottle shop up front, past a hallway chef’s counter to the 45-seat dining room in back. Sliding into a banquette as evening waned, I felt soothed by the climbing, leafy plants and dim natural light pouring in...

Walking into John’s Food & Wine on a busy Thursday night, I spotted a couple of open seats at the long marble bar. Normally, I’d make a beeline for this increasingly rare walk-in’s gift, but having just entered the back of the line at this upscale, fast-casual bistro, I hesitated. Was such self-serving behavior frowned upon?  Bar seats are indeed fair game for walk-ins at John’s, as I learned when a group behind me snagged the stools and commenced the ritual of dining out as we’ve all traditionally known it. But if you’re after a table at this Lincoln Park newcomer, you’ll queue up in front of a countertop tablet where (the night I was there) beverage director and sommelier Jonas Bittencourt takes your coursed, dinner order in one nerve-wracking go, then leads you to your table, where you choose your own pairing adventure by snapping a QR code and scrolling through Toast. There are no designated servers. Rather, a small crew helmed by co-owners and chefs Adam McFarland and Thomas Rogers breathlessly does a little of everything—hence the 20 percent service charge automatically applied to every check.  I acutely felt the lack of human touch throughout my meal—not just because this is a wine-focused restaurant full of cool, ever-changing pours that warrant a little storytelling. It also manifested in the harried pacing of courses and disconcerting sense that the main shepherd of our experience was the restaurant’s POS system. I longed for those small leisurely moments, like...