First came Atlantique. Then Rioja. Next up, Il Fiasco. Welcome to
Tapas Las Ramblas, the newest (opened in August) iteration in the ever-changing landscape at 5101 N. Clark Street.
We’ll be the first to admit that we’ve liked the three previous incarnations. Indeed, we were very happy to see Eric Aubriot come to Il Fiasco and thought things were looking up from an already pretty good starting point. But all good things come to an end and so did Il Fiasco. It’s now an ostensibly Spanish tapas place. I say ostensibly because, even though our waiter acknowledged that others have already complained about this same issue, this is a tapas place that doesn’t serve sherry! Well, okay, they serve a cream sherry and a “medium-dry” sherry, if memory serves. The justification, so near as I was able to understand, is that the customers don’t order it. Given the extensive list of sherries, including several choices of flights, at Café Ba-Ba-Reeba, I find this explanation completely unconvincing.
The two rooms remain largely untouched, save for large boldly-colored abstract murals now painted on all the walls.

(Photo courtesy of the restaurant's website)
The large-screen TVs remain on the walls but have been blessedly turned off (thank you, Lord!). Pleasant Spanish music (I’m not sophisticated enough in that area to distinguish Spanish from, say, Latin American) is trifle loud but well within ordinary levels. A wall of booths share space in the front room with the attractive, long bar (and a new, what we presume must be waiting area with large comfy couches). The second/back room remains filled with two- and four-tops. Arriving at a bit after 6 pm, there wasn’t a soul in the second room although about five or six of the booths were already occupied.
We had five dishes and enjoyed them all. In the interest of fidelity to description, I cut-and-paste the list from the (online) menu. This is also the order in which they were received from the kitchen:
patatas con aioli - potato salad with garlic mayonnaise
First up, a generous portion of very garlicky potato salad. Nothing out of the ordinary but very well-done, perfectly cooked and dressed potatoes. Heavy on the garlic but not in the least off-putting. Handled exactly right.
alcachofas rellenas – artichoke hearts stuffed with crab meat served with brandy tomato sauce
Arriving almost at the same moment, four smallish artichoke hearts, each cradling a good full tablespoon of crab. The presentation included a tiny salad of greens and diced tomatoes with an excellent vinaigrette and four blobs (I know no better word) of what appeared to be a sweet red pepper mayonnaise. Neither of us tasted the brandy tomato sauce to speak of and both of us were a little disappointed with the crab. It wasn’t bad in the least, it just didn’t particularly taste of crab. I fear that if blindfolded, we would have been surprised to learn that it was largely crab. It’s not that they skimped on the crabmeat (they didn’t), just that it didn’t have a lot of crabosity (?) to it. Sad, because it was a beautiful presentation, great idea, and enjoyable dish otherwise.
esparagos ala plancha - grilled asparagus with pine nuts and pesto vinaigrette
Next we got another impressive presentation: five large spears of asparagus and a heap of what looked for all the world like chunky guacamole on the side. “What is that,” quoth I? “Pesto vinaigrette?” quotheth the Lovely Dining Companion, reading from the menu. Remarkably enough, yes. Lots of diced tomato “dressed” with a pesto at once boasting a very mild flavor of basil and an assertive but not overpowering dash of vinegar. The asparagus were perfectly grilled, some more diced tomato and roasted pine nuts scattered liberally around and the heap of “vinaigrette” on the side. Who knew? Vinaigrette as guacamole. Excellent dish.
pincho de santander - grilled chicken and cured Spanish chorizo brochette, roasted peppers and a red wine sauce
On to the hot dishes. First up, in honor of my esteemed colleague, the
pincho de Santander. In the immortal words in Rachael Ray, “Yum-o”! Not quite as much of this dish as we wanted. Hell, we got one skewer and could have polished off another ten or so. Three slices (!) of Spanish chorizo interspersed with chunks of chicken breast, grilled, resting in a delightful pond of roasted green and yellow peppers and red onions in a red wine sauce. (Not to be churlish, but a
pincho (or
pintxo, if you’re Basque) means a slice of bread on which is served the main attraction, held in place by the pincho (which means thorn or spike—usually replaced by the ubiquitous toothpick). Here, the bread in the bread bowl was to serve, I guess. Either that or the skewer was the pincho on which the main attraction was, um, impaled.)
cazuela de mariscos – shrimp, scallops, mussels, clams, and lobster in a saffron broth over angel hair pasta
Just as satiety began to set in, the last (and largest) dish arrived, a very generous serving of seafood in the
cazuela de mariscos. Shrimp, mussels, scallops, a ton of (somewhat chewy) calamari and lobster (advertised but no discrete pieces of which were identifiably present). Lovely. A nice light broth tasted of the sea but could have used a bit more saffron. The dish would have also profited from less calamari; otherwise, it was a nice way to close on a very cold night.
We should also point out that five dishes were definitely enough for us (though, in the interest of complete disclosure, the Lovely Dining Companion gets full a bit sooner than most folks).
Service was fine without being noteworthy. Water glasses were kept filled, plates delivered and removed in promptitude. (We were a little puzzled by the tiny melba-toast-sized loaf of bread and bottle of olive oil left on the table, though. Apparently a hold-over from sunny Il Fiasco days.)
SOAPBOX WARNING!We have an issue that we’re becoming tired of noting: how about some GOOD bread? We live in Chicago; it’s not hard to get excellent bread. So, please, please spend the extra money and pass the cost along to us. We’re so tired of adequate bread that we’ll happily pay for the “privilege” of getting some good bread.
END OF SOAPBOXDessert selection was limited and unexciting (flan, banana with caramel sauce, poached pear, flourless chocolate cake, and profiteroles). Speaking of oddities: not that we’re ever likely have “cordials” in a restaurant, but in perusing that portion of the drinks menu, we were startled—or perhaps I should say dumbfounded—to see that they add a $1 upcharge for cordials “on the rocks.” Apparently the upcharge doesn’t apply to other drinks since the disclaimer appears exclusively in that section of the drinks menu. I can’t even begin to comprehend this. Maybe it’s a new thing, but we’ve never seen it before and the idea of charging $1 for a couple of ice cubes is so flat-out idiotic that I had to make note of it. And ridicule it. I don’t care if you’ve got someone supplying 10,000 year-old ice cut just this morning from the Whereizit Glacier in Lower Upper Eastern West Newfoundland, I’m not paying for ice.
On the other hand, maintaining the excellent standard set by its predecessors in this spot, prices are extremely reasonable. Without drinks or dessert (just tax), our bill came to $32. Who can complain? By the time we left (about 7 pm), the second room was about half-full, thanks in part to a table of sixteen. Quibbles and soapbox aside, we enjoyed the dinner and will return. This is a good (not great) neighborhood restaurant, it’s not a destination. We liked it and we devoutly hope that we don’t have a fifth incarnation just as we get used to this one!
Tapas Las Ramblas
5101 N. Clark Street
773-769-9700
Gypsy Boy
"I am not a glutton--I am an explorer of food." (Erma Bombeck)