A fiasco, it’s not. It is neither an English-language fiasco nor did we see any evidence of the Italian-language one (the classic straw-covered wine bottle), though it’s named after the latter and clearly emulates that feel.
We went on Saturday, the second night of its existence. (Who opens on Friday the 13th? Ya gotta love their chutzpah—note to self, ask Antonius what the Italian word for chutzpah is.) The room (previously Rioja, previously Atlantique) has not been substantially modified and would benefit (as would have the previous incarnations) from a little sound absorbing material. Tile floor, exposed brick or largely unadorned wood walls...everything reflects sound. It wasn’t particularly hard to hear but a quieter room would be welcome and need not be a completely quiet room. The new owners did have the sense to take out a number of two-tops in a very busy area that has improved the look and traffic flow enormously—no doubt at the cost of some real income. Still, it’s a distinct and genuinely positive improvement.
The good news, somewhat surprisingly, is the food. The bad news, somewhat predictably, is everything else. We walked in about 6 pm to a restaurant about one-quarter full. We were immediately shown to a comfortable booth in the front room across from the large bar. I was surprised not to be taken to the larger dining room and can’t quite understand why we were put where we were. We were too far from the front windows to be seen as happy customers and the bar was distinctly the more crowded and louder of the two rooms. In retrospect, it would have been nice to have been seated in the dining room, particular since the bar now features two very large LCD screens hung high on the brick walls. We were treated to a video of a Natalie Merchant concert followed by a Tony Bennett concert. The Merchant video was loud; the Bennett show, more in keeping with the ostensibly Italian theme, was inexplicably turned up, then down, then up, then down, then up....
There were no daily specials; to our surprise, the menu is printed on one side of the paper placemat and the wine/drinks list on the other. Nice paper but I felt liked we’d stumbled into a different kind of place. The menu features a well-thought-out selection of items leaning largely, though not exclusively, to Italian. Seven salads ($4 or $6) and eleven starters (mostly $6-$9). (I should note that the menu lists a
website but that it is not up and running. Pastas are mostly $10 as are the Neapolitan 12” thin-crusts. The “specialties”—there are about nine of them—are mostly in the $15-$17 range (the high end being a NY strip with green peppercorns and madeira for $24). Five sides and six desserts; more on both to come. First pleasant surprise—everything is very reasonably priced.
The wine list is adequate (about 15 bottles each of red and white), eclectic, and mostly quite reasonable. (For some inexplicable reason, the “Full intensity reds” are all over $60/bottle with one exception.) The list helpfully breaks the wines into different “styles” and lists a very few available by the quartino (about two-and-a-half glasses), something we recently ran into at Anteprima, just up the street. There is a smallish bottled beer selection with some more offbeat choices (Liefman’s Kriekbier and Peot’s Stout) and half a dozen on tap (from Peroni to De Konick and Blanche de Bruxelles) at $4-$5. Nice to see Limonata and Aranciata available.
I decided to order an app. I felt like the figs with prosciutto, mascarpone and honey but figured that would tell me little about the kitchen. So I opted for a gorgonzola/spinach souffle with poached pears. In a word, scrumptious. The small souffle was warm and perfectly balanced, sitting a bed of slightly bitter greens. Around the circumference of the plate, beautifully poached, spicy pears with a touch of honey. Unctuous. LDC concurred, although I was too jealous to offer her more than a couple of tastes.
The Lovely Dining Companion skipped the apps and went right to dinner, ordering a pizza (grilled field mushrooms with mozzarella and arugula). She also asked for a side of asparagus (grilled with a lemon/herb vinaigrette). Our server confirmed that she wanted the side, not the asparagus app, but then proceeded to serve her side at the same time he delivered my app. Odd. For the record, the asparagus was lovely. I’d love to be able to report the herbs in the vinaigrette because it was off the beaten track, but I couldn’t quite place them; although I didn’t really get the lemon, the vinaigrette was quite nice. Moreover, though assertive, we both thought it worked very nicely with the asparagus, not overwhelming it as I had feared it might.
LDC’s review of the pizza was spot-on. “Well...it isn’t Spacca Napoli.” No, it’s not. It was a nice pizza with not much mozzarella and the largest, hugest arugula leaves I’ve ever seen in my life. Nicely cooked and very tasty.... Just not Spacca Napoli. Still, for $10, very reasonable. I ordered a “crispy” duck confit and it came with the specified poached plums and sauteed green beans. The confit had been reshaped and stuffed back into the skin of the leg, so I was a little concerned at first. But I pulled it apart to find it luscious, crispy, and bursting with flavor. Occasional nuggets of fat remained but the duck was juicy without being oily. An absolutely lovely dish and, for a mere $15, worth repeating soon.
This is probably as good as place an any to note that the specialties run the gamut without more than the occasional nod to Italia. There’s a sea bass with salsa verde, grilled salmon with baby beets, pork tenderloin with honey/mustard glaze, and intriguing lamb chops with a pea puree and mint vinaigrette. Scallops with lentils and a couple chicken breast preps round out the list. We ended up without tasting any pastas, whose preps are mostly expectable. A couple unique ones do merit attention and possibly even ordering on a subsequent visit: jalapeno gnocchi (with asparagus, peas, and roasted red pepper puree) and an artichoke and spinach ravioli. The others pizzas, for the record, include traditional expected ones as well as speck with gorgonzola; wilted spinach with tomato, ham, and “free range egg”; and tuna, red onions, and tomato.
Desserts were varied. I chose the panna cotta with rhubarb compote. One doesn’t often see rhubarb on the menu and that was enough to hook me. The panna cotta, a trifle short of the right firmness, seemed to be a lemon/vanilla—the menu didn’t specify. The rhubarb was beautifully cooked, just the right level of sour. LDC opted for fresh berries with cream and meringue. The only unusual dessert is a steamed hot chocolate pudding.
I dinged the service at the top of this review. I should say a few words. I already noted that we were seated across from the bar when the dining room was largely empty. The bread was presented quickly with a dish of olive oil and parmesan. The bread would have been fine had they not sliced it hours earlier and let it dry out. It was fresh that day but clearly dried out on the surface. It would also have been nice if someone had noticed about thirty minutes before someone finally did, that we were out of bread and oil and parmesan. Water was kept filled but the empty bread and oil dishes were ignored. The waiter cleared my app dish but inexplicably left LDC’s completely empty dish sitting there, despite three visits back to the table. On the third visit, I handed it to him and received not even a sheepish grin in return (much less an apology). The waiter was personable but perfunctory. No enthusiasm for the place, the food, or much of anything else. No warmth, no particular interest in anything other than getting the order in and the food served. Delivered the desserts and, not a minute later, the bill. Didn’t ask if we wanted coffee or anything else.
Friends of the owners (we assume) abounded—at the bar, at the tables, in the open spaces. And the owners reciprocated by spending their time, almost exclusively, chatting with their friends. We had one two-sentence visit and were never visited again—not even by the owner who spent our entire meal there chatting with one pair of friends at the bar, not ten feet away. Not entirely a surprise on night number two, I guess, but we often felt like we had intruded on a private party. We liked the place quite a bit—at least for the food. LDC hit the nail on the head, I think. Il Fiasco doesn’t have the aspirations that Spacca Napoli does. Unlike Spacca Napoli, they pay no particular attention to their mozzarella, for example. (That should not be interpreted as criticism, merely information.) They make no issue of their ingredients, imported or no. Unlike Anteprima, which boasts of its home-made pastas, Il Fiasco does no such thing. So what? It seeks to be no more than a comfy neighborhood restaurant. In that, they are off to a great start. We will be back and, indeed, look forward to the five-block stroll.
Il Fiasco
5101 N. Clark Street
Chicago, IL 60640
773-769-9700
Gypsy Boy
"I am not a glutton--I am an explorer of food." (Erma Bombeck)