and other top Chicago

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Where do Rick Bayless
and other top Chicago
chefs go when they crave
tasty, unpretentious grub?
We follow seven of them
to their favorite ethnic
enclaves and get them
to dish on the city’s best,
most authentic cheap eats.
photography by Tim Klein
His kind of Chinatown
Italian for beginners
Chef Calvin Soh of Shanghai
Terrace reveals how to shop
& eat in the Asian haven without getting your duck cooked.
hand-carved wooden mooncake molds used for traditional
(2161 S China Pl, 312-791red-bean filled pies, as well as Chinese dim sum rolling pins.
0888), where he scarfs down
When it comes to cleavers, he swears by the ultra light and
mini mooncakes & the flaky,
sharp blades made by Chan Chi Kee, which he can find in
sweet-and-savory egg cakes
Chicago only at this shop. “Every Chinese chef knows this
with a pickled duck egg hidBy Lisa Shames
brand,” he says.
den inside. But Soh doesn’t
For the best Peking duck in the city—after his own, of
go too far overboard on the
No matter how low the buying power of the U.S. dollar
course—Soh heads toward the end of the block to Tao Ho Yee
sugar. “An important part of
goes, it’s still a heck of a lot cheaper to buy exotic Asian inFood Co. (2422 S Wentworth Ave, 312-225-9828). What the food is to create a comfortgredients in Chicago than in Singapore. At least that’s how
miniscule takeout shop lacks in decor, it more than makes
able feeling after the meal is
Calvin Soh sees it. He should know: As chef de cuisine at
up for with the quality of its duck, which is served at the
eaten,” he says.
Shanghai Terrace, the fine-dining restaurant in The Peninsula
Ritz-Carlton and Four Seasons. As if to prove Soh’s point, the
Chicago known for its authentic Shanghai and Cantonese
shop turns out to have already sold out by early afternoon.
cuisine, this Singapore native is no stranger to birds’ nests,
Lesson learned: Arrive early in the morning (8am) or at
wild ginseng and dried abalone. To find these and more fanoon—the shop cooks its ducks in two daily shifts. Better
miliar Asian items—whether it’s for the Shanghai Terrace’s
yet, call a day ahead and reserve one.
regular menu, a traditional banquet feast in a private dining
Sometimes even Peking duck isn’t enough to cure Soh’s
room or even his home kitchen—Soh heads to Chinatown.
homesickness, so when the pangs hit hard, he heads to
When he arrived in Chicago a year and a half ago,
Penang (2201 S Wentworth Ave, 312-326-6888). “This is
fresh from working as chef de cuisine at the Raffles Hotel
where I can find food that’s most similar to what I could eat
Singapore, where he was also responsible for its culinaryback home,” he says. Here among the Tiki lounge decor, he
academy cooking classes, Soh learned about the best spots in
always orders roti canai, an Indian-style pancake he often
Chinatown from the experts: his cooks. After scoring insider
ate for breakfast growing up (“It’s crispy and retips on the best stores, restaurants and markets, and followally nice with curry sauce”); the chicken and beef
HERB APPEAL The bah kut teh (pork soup) at
ing up on his intel with frequent visits, Soh says proudly, “I
satay; popia, a Malaysian spring roll; and bah kut
Penang is rich in healthy greens and spices.
know Chinatown better than most locals.”
teh, an herb-rich pork rib consommé.
He’s such a regular at Ten Ren Tea and Ginseng Co. (2247
Chinatown Market (2121 S Archer Ave, 312S Wentworth Ave, 312-842-1171) that he often hangs out
881-0068) is the place to hit for the freshest live seafood and
there on his day off, chatting with the owner-manager—Mr.
fish, Soh says. He especially likes the black grouper, sea snails—
Fine to you. “I love to spend time with him to learn his se“You need to clean them well & soak overnight”—and geoduck,
crets about tea,” Soh says, like how to tell the difference bea type of clam—“It’s ugly, but really great for sashimi.” When
tween spring and winter harvests (tip: Spring-harvested tea is preparing live eel (assuming it doesn’t escape from the plastic
Ten Ren Tea and Ginseng Co.
better, as the flavors are more delicate). “I’ve learned how to
bag you take it home in), Soh recommends placing the squirmy
Osmanthus Oolong tea, $139/lb
buy tea from him.” Among the large, copper-colored canisters, snakelike fish on a cutting board and driving a nail through
(about 69 cents per cup);
Soh points to Osmanthus Oolong tea as one of his favorites.
each end of its body to keep it from slithering to freedom. Not
Jasmine Beauty Ring tea, $25/4oz
The $139-per-pound price might induce sticker shock, but
into cutting up a live eel? Squeamish types can opt for the mara pound of tea brews 200 cups. “When I’m stressed out in
ket’s cleaning and cutting services, Soh notes.
Fat Lee Grocers
the restaurant, I make a pot of this to help me relax,” Soh
For the rest of his shopping list, Soh crosses the street to
Sun dried black beans, $1.20
says. The glass jar of prepackaged Jasmine Beauty Ring tea
the open-air mall on Archer Avenue. At Yin Wall City Inc.
Woks ’N’ Things
also catches his eye, but he says it’s better to buy loose tea to (2112 S Archer Ave, 312-225-2888), Soh runs around like
Mooncake molds, $3.95–$20.95;
guarantee its purity.
a kid in a candy store, except instead of sweets, he’s droolDim-sum rolling pins, $3.95;
Next door at Fat Lee Grocers (2243 S Wentworth Ave,
ing over exotic herbs and dried seafood (a common pairChan Chi Kee cleavers, $40–$46
312-881-9289), Soh heads to the back of the tiny store and
ing in Hong Kong, he says), including a large variety of birds’
Tao Ho Yee Food Co.
grabs a yellow can of Sun brand dried black beans, which he
nests, dried mushrooms, pickled vegetables and dried abaloDuck, $13.50 whole; $6.50 half
uses to season and marinate meat. “If you use these black
ne. Reaching his hands into barrels of dried ginseng, he rePenang
beans, you don’t need to use salt or sugar,” he says. Across
veals the best varieties come from—of all places—Wisconsin.
Roti canai
the street at Woks ’N’ Things (2234 S Wentworth Ave, 312“I think all Asian people know this,” he says. The birds’ nests
(Indian-style pancake), $3.50;
842-0701), Soh demonstrates how Asian chefs measure inare made from the saliva of cave-dwelling swifts (swallowChicken and beef satay, $6.50;
gredients with a ladle and how to use one to carry a hot or
like birds) in China (Grossed out? Soh compares the process
Popia
heavy wok: Take the round end of the ladle and insert it perto that of honey-producing bees). Though they’re expen(Malaysian spring roll), $5.95;
pendicular to the handle inside of the wok until it catches,
sive here—think $220 an ounce and up—they still cost half
Bah kut teh (pork consommé),
helping to distribute the weight. Soh also points out some
what they would in Singapore, & are known as a “secret for
$7.25–$15
Oriental beauty,” believed to enhance the skin when eaten,
Chinatown
Market
Soh says. (After two days of soaking and double-boiling the
Black grouper, $16.99/lb;
nests, Soh creates a chilled dessert soup for the restaurant with
Sea snails, $3.99/lb;
ginseng and Chinese red dates.) Looking to make a flavorful riGeoduck, $19.95/lb;
sotto or soup? Soh recommends throwing a small handful ($8
Eel, $8.99/lb
worth) of dried scallops into the pot (soak them first in water
Yin Wall City Inc.
to rehydrate). “You don’t need to use a lot because the flavor is
Dried ginseng $49.50–$475/lb;
more concentrated and intense,” he says.
Birds’ nests, $220/oz and up;
Like many of Chicago’s foodies, when Soh craves
Dried scallops $68.50/lb
Chinese food he heads to Tony Hu’s restaurants, including
Lao Shanghai (2163 S China Pl, 312-808-0830)—Soh’s a
Lao Shanghai
big fan of its xiao long bao or “juicy buns”—and Lao Beijing
Xiao long bao (“juicy buns”), $4.95
(2138 S Archer Ave, 312-881-0168). “For Chinese food in
Captain Café & Bakery
Chinatown, chef Tony is the best,” he says.
Mini mooncakes, 55¢ each;
Just like any great dinner, a Chinatown tour should end
Egg cakes, 70¢ each
SOMETHING FISHY Soh grabs a handful of
with something sweet. Soh goes to Captain Café & Bakery
THE TAB
dried scallops at Yin Wall City Inc.
A f ine-dining Italian chef steps
out of his glass castle to gather fuel on Harlem Avenue.
By Heather Shouse
“Where else are you going to find this kind of cheese?” Tony
Mantuano asks no one in particular as he holds up a fat, strawyellow wedge plucked from a case at Caputo’s Cheese Market
(1931 N 15th Ave, Melrose Park, 708-450-0469). When a guy
like Mantuano gets excited about cheese, you know it’s good
stuff. As chef-partner of Mag Mile gem Spiaggia, Mantuano
personally oversaw the addition of a “cheese cave,” or climatecontrolled display case, and remains intent on schooling finediners on top-notch Italian products.
“Nowhere, that’s where,” he continues, answering his
own question, cheese still aloft. “Vacche rose, or red cow,
from Parmigiano-Reggiano will break the bank. So Caputo
found this red-cow cheese produced in Latvia. It’s $4.49 a
pound, and it’s delicious.”
Though the cheese market is a hefty detour west from the
Italian enclave of Harlem Avenue, it’s always the first stop
Mantuano makes when coming to the area. “Hey, where’s
your dad?” he asks Natale Caputo, son of the market’s
founder, Pasquale. “Where else? In Italy,” Caputo replies. The
cheesemonger and chef stroll the store and Mantuano picks
up his favorite finds: Locatelli pecorino (“a great brand for
the money; shave over pasta,” he says); Sardinian Nuraghe
(“delicious sheep’s milk”); and Monte Caputo (“They have it
made just for them, it’s like a Crotonese table cheese, lightly
sweet and salty”).
After a quick stop in the cheesemaking room, where Caputo
lets the chef grab little bocconcini of still-warm mozz from
the production line, Mantuano heads for Harlem’s main drag,
where a handful of Italian-run specialty shops and cafés remain even after the scattering of the area’s southern Italian
immigrants. Caputo’s Grocery (2560 N Harlem Ave, 708-4530155) is a quick stop for cheap Italian produce (and it’s owned
by a relative of the Melrose Park cheesemongers). Mantuano
points out good deals on Andy Boy Farm’s rapini, cubanelle frying peppers and fresh fava beans, as well as pork belly for $2.69
a pound (“Apparently, no one told them it was in vogue”). But
he scoffs at the basic supermarket-quality fish selection. For
seafood around these parts, there’s no substitute for Mercato del
Pesce (2623 N Harlem Ave, 773-889-7909).
He’s talking up the shop’s mackerel as he enters, but
it’s clear he’ll buy whatever looks good. Italian is spoken
rapid-fire among two olive-skinned women and the fishmonger while Mantuano examines the case lined with sardines, baby octopus, red mullet, orata (dorade), spigola
(striped bass), baby shark and fat clusters of mollusks in a
few shapes and sizes. “I have no idea where they’re getting
some of this stuff, and they’ll never tell me in a hundred
years,” Mantuano jokes, loud enough for owners Dominick
Conenna and Vince DeVito to hear. A little more friendly
banter, and Mantuano’s ready for lunch.
“If I’m with the family, I’ll go to Caponie’s (3350 N Harlem
Ave, 773-804-9024) for a pretty good Italian-American pizza
cooked in a wood-burning oven,” Mantuano confides. But today, there’s a Diavolo sandwich at Riviera Italian Foods (3220
N Harlem Ave, 773-637-4252) with his name on it. Behind the
counter in the back of the small deli, owner Carmelo Pugliese
builds Mantuano’s sandwich with nothing but foods he makes
himself, stacking spicy soppressata, coppa, fresh mozzarella and
chunky giardiniera onto a torpedo roll while the chef scans the
aisles for Giuseppe Cocco noodles, his preferred brand of dry
pasta. Pugliese’s wife, Caterine, insists Mantuano take a twinewrapped log of soppressata, and throws in a container of rosso
marina, tiny ice fish in fiery brine traditionally spread on bread.
Just as Mantuano’s finishing off the sandwich at a sidewalk
table in front of the adjacent “social club” Societa San Pietro &
Paolo (3222 N Harlem Ave, no phone), a silver-haired guy wearing a T-shirt with a map of Italy pops his head out of the bar
and insists Mantuano come in for an espresso. The guy introduces himself as “Nicky,” and motions to the man behind the
tiny bar who’s digging into a little soppressata of his own. “Hey,
Rocky, pull a couple,” and in minutes tiny cups of espresso appear. Mantuano’s impressed by the brew and learns the beans
come from nearby Caffe Italia (2625 N Harlem Ave, 773-8890455). “This would be perfect with those sesame-seed cookies
across the street,” Mantuano says, motioning to Palermo Bakery
(3317 N Harlem Ave, 773-777-5957). “They make them the
best, browned and crisp.”
“The best,” Nicky boasts, “is this soppressata from
Carmelo next door.” He motions to the sliced-into sausage
lying on butcher paper on the bar. As if on cue, Carmelo appears, still in his apron, and looks sheepish as the men in the
bar brag about him loudly. Nicky turns to Mantuano and bellows, “You’re a chef so you know your stuff, so tell him, isn’t
this stuff the best?”
THE TAB
Ghareeb Nawaz
Chicken biryani, $4.35;
Paratha rolls, $3.25
Fresh Farms
Mango powder, $1.29;
Kalonji seeds, $5.99;
Karelas, $1.49/six-pack
Kamdar Plaza
Dhokla, $4.99/lb;
Khandvi, $7.99/lb
Tahoora
Halwa puri breakfast, $4;
Rasmalai, $6.75/lb
Sabri Nehari
Nehari, $8.49;
Moong dal, $6.99
JK Kabab
Seekh kebab, $7.49
Khan B.B.Q.
Chicken pulao, $7
Lahore Food & Grill
Chicken charga, $6
Devon
Intervention
Two chefs–one Pakistani, the other from
Bangladesh—devour Little India’s specialty groceries, sweets & handheld eats.
By Heather Shous
It’s a few minutes after 10am, and
heads for first,” Ameen says, walking toward
Mohammad Islam is chugging chai tea while
shelves in the back that groan from the weight
eyeing the door of Fresh Farms Market (2626
of ultra-ripe produce. “It’s supercheap but you
W Devon Ave, 773-764-3557), seemingly
have to use it right away,” she explains, and
planning a quick getaway to an adjacent snack grabs a pack of what look like craggy, knobshop. Islam and his wife, Malika Ameen, are
by zucchini, explaining they’re karelas (bitter
the owners and chefs of River North’s Aigre
gourds) that are traditionally split lengthwise,
Doux, but they aren’t shopping at their favorsalted to extract some of the bitterness, then
ite Devon Avenue market with the restaurant
stuffed with spiced ground beef, fried and addin mind. They’re picking up Indian specialed to a tomato-based sauce.
ties for their three kids, a brood that’s alAfter paying, Ameen heads a few doors
ready developed quite a palate from growing
down to catch up with her husband, who’s
up with a Pakistani-American mother and a
Bangladeshi father, both chefs.
SHELF HELP Malika Ameen and her husband,
“I have low blood sugar, I tell you,”
Mohammad Islam, shop for their international
Islam jokes. “I made Malika stop at
household at Fresh Farms Market.
Ghareeb Nawaz (2032 W Devon Ave,
773-761-5300) before we came here for
one of their paratha rolls filled with omelette.” He found the flaky breakfast wrap
on a tip from Ameen’s father, an immigrant
from Pakistan. (Dad’s a big fan of Ghareeb’s
chicken biryani, a seasoned rice dish, and
handheld paratha wraps, especially those
stuffed with slightly charred beef.) Ameen
fills her cart with colorful packages of dried
mango powder (labeled amchur, which adds
sour punch to soups and sauces) and jetblack kalonji seeds that she uses to impart a
nutty, peppery flavor when pickling.
“This is the part of the store my mom
already charming the women behind the counter at
Kamdar Plaza (2646 W
Devon Ave, 773-338-8100),
inquiring in Urdu when the
next batch of dhokla will be
pulled from the oven. Kamdar
is the best place in town for
this savory, spongy, steamed
cake of gram flour and yogurt
native to the Gujarat area of
India. “They’re the only people who make it right,” Islam
claims. “That, and khandvi, another Gujarati specialty
made with similar ingredients but rolled thin like a tiny
crêpe and topped with cilantro, chiles and mustard seeds.”
Nearby sweet shop Tahoora
(2345 W Devon Ave, 773743-7272) is the couple’s
preferred weekend brunch
spot, when the counter-service snack shop/bakery offers a classic breakfast plate of
halwa (semolina cooked with
clarified butter), puri (puffy
fried breads), chole (chickpea
curry) and aloo saag (potatoes
and spinach) with raita (yogurt) and achar (pickle). But
since it’s a weekday, they settle on rasmalai, fluffy sweetcheese dumplings swimming
in thick, snow-white milk that
both agree Tahoora does best.
They still need to grab
lunch, so Ameen considers
her father’s favorites nearby. “We go to Sabri Nehari
(2502 W Devon Ave, 773743-6200) for this Pakistani
dish nehari, tender beef in
a rich gravy. It’s very homestyle there. We get that,
the moong dal, yellow lentils with curry leaves and
mustard seeds,” she says.
Continuing the roll call of
options with her husband,
she contemplates JK Kabab
House (6412 N Rockwell
St, 773-761-6089) for its
excellent seekh, grilled kebabs of spiced ground beef,
then Khan B.B.Q. (2401 W
Devon Ave, 773-274-8600),
preferred on Fridays when
the stewlike chicken pulao
is served, and Lahore Food
& Grill (2114 W Devon
Ave, 773-761-4919), a cabbie joint that “Dad loves for
the juicy, spicy fried chicken charga.” The mere mention of fried chicken sets
Islam in motion toward
Lahore. Apparently a decision has been made, and
father knows best.
Pork Patrol
COUNTER CULTURE Bayless takes a breather
in front of a bowl of goat consommé and
a plate of tacos at Birriería Reyes de Ocotlan.
Frontera Grill’s Rick Bayless gets
spicy with snacks (and an unbeatable tres leches cake) in Pilsen.
By David Tamarkin
Somewhere along the line, between running his restaurants, making public appearances, writing his cookbooks and
filming his television show, Rick Bayless has learned how to
talk expertly with a mouth full of carnitas.
“There are two flavor profiles in Mexican food,” he says
between bites of a taco at Don Pedro Carnitas (1113 W 18th
St, 312-829-4757): home food and street food. “Street food
almost always has this super well-cooked fatty element in it
that is completely balanced by straight, bright acid.”
He squeezes some lime on his taco.
“When Mexicans go to Europe, they’re just incredulous.
There is nothing to balance all that heaviness. They consider it a really super one-dimensional cuisine. They’re always
reaching for a lime or a pickle or something—an acid.”
He swallows, takes another bite.
“The street-food balance in Mexico is very much about
the fatty [being] as strong as the acid. And that’s why all the
salsas in Mexico are not based on tomatoes, they’re based on
tomatillos. Because they’re hugely more acidic.”
He eyes the bottles of tomatillo salsa on the table, glances
at the plate of pork in front of him. He reaches for the salsa
but stops himself.
“I shouldn’t do this, because I’m going to get too full, but
it’s really good,” he says. He stands up. “Have you seen the
copper pots in back?”
As much as Bayless loves the carnitas here, he loves the
handmade copper pots they’re made in almost more. In the
back of the restaurant, there are three Jacuzzi-sized pots, bubbling wildly, the ears and snouts of pigs rising to the top.
Bayless looks at the pots with a mixture of hunger and awe
but finally manages to turn away. On his trips to Pilsen, carnitas are just the beginning.
Rick Bayless
He heads west. He passes flower shops and bakeries, but
doesn’t even slow down to glance in the windows. He’s focused on his next taco, and when he takes a seat at the
counter of Birrería Reyes de
Ocotlan (1322 W 18th St,
312-733-2613), he orders
three: one cabeza, a mixture
of cheeks, jowls and other
Caputo’s Cheese Market
meat from the head of a cow;
Latvian red-cow
one lengua, chopped beef
cheese, $4.49/lb;
tongue; and one of the eponLocatelli pecorino, $8.99/lb;
ymous birria—a fat taco overSardinian Nuraghe, $3.99/lb;
stuffed with juicy, shredded
Monte Caputo, $4.49/lb
goat meat.
Caputo’s Grocery
Bayless knows some peoRapini, $2.99/lb;
ple have problems with goat.
Cubanelles, 79¢/lb;
The city banned it from the
Fava beans, 99¢/lb;
Maxwell Street Market, and
Pork belly, $2.69/lb
customers at his restaurants
Mercato del Pesce
are often shocked when they
Orata, $7.99/lb;
read the word goat on the
Spigola, $7.99/lb
menu. “[To them,] it’s as biRiviera Italian Foods
zarre as saying ‘cat tacos,’
Diavolo sandwich, $3.50;
or something like that,” he
Giuseppe Cocco pasta, $2.49/8.8oz
says. But he can’t get enough
of the stuff. He takes turns
Societa San Pietro & Paolo
noshing on all three of the
Espresso, $1.50
tacos, ignoring for the moPalermo Bakery
ment the bowl of consomSesame-seed cookies, $6.89/lb
mé—made with the savory
goat drippings—that sits
THE TAB
steaming to his right. It’s a
thin but lush soup, and earlier
Bayless had taken dried chiles
and cracked them, sprinkling
the shards into the broth. But
the consommé fills a need he
doesn’t have right now.
“Practically everything
served in a taquería at some point or another can be a hangover cure,” he says. “The thing is, if you put a lot of these
chiles in there, chiles do that thing that speeds up your heart
rate and it gets your blood flowing faster, and usually that will
help a hangover.”
He samples a couple spoonfuls of soup and pushes it
away. The tacos are only half eaten, but he’s already on the
move again—there’s more to be consumed. On the way to
Restaurant La Casa Del Pueblo (1834 S Blue Island Ave, 312421-4664), Bayless puts in a good word for that Mexican
institution, the grocery-store eatery. “If you have a Mexican
grocery near you, the taquería that’s inside of that place is really a good bet, typically,” he explains. La Casa is next door
to its grocery-store counterpart, and is not so much a taquería as it is a fonda—a Mexican diner. All kinds of homestyle
Mexican dishes are displayed cafeteria-style, including tortas
de camaron (fried shrimp patties) and chicharrónes en salsa verde (pork rinds that have been soaked in a green-chile
sauce). All of it is “super homey,” Bayless says. Though he admits that the chicharrónes are “an acquired taste.”
Hankering for cecina—a jerkylike dried beef—and thoroughly sick of tacos by this point, Bayless makes his next stop
Taquería Cardona’s (1451 W 18th St, 312-492-8059). There,
he reads on the menu that the cecinas are made from sirloin.
He’s incredulous. Calling over the server, he fires off some
questions in Spanish. She agrees that the cecina is definitely not sirloin, but more likely a cut from the round. And, she
adds proudly, it’s cured in-house.
Bayless orders a huarache, a flat oval of masa (tortilla
dough) topped with cecina. At the same time, somebody else
in the restaurant orders a mango agua fresca, and the server
heads directly to a blender, pureeing the sweet, fresh mango and pouring it into a square goblet. When the huarache is
served, it’s covered in iceberg lettuce—probably an American
addition, Bayless says—but that does little to interfere with the
intricate beefy and briny flavor of the chopped cecina.
Soon, he’s on his way to Kristoffer’s Cafe (1733 S
Halsted St, 312-829-4150), a coffee shop/bakery he has
been tipped off to by a friend. The tres leches cake is rumored to be great, but now, looking at the menu, Bayless is a
little dubious. There are all kinds of three-milks (condensed,
evaporated and regular) cake here, some in sacrilegious variations—flavors like eggnog, caramel, piña colada and Kahlua.
“Here in the United States we tend to want 31 flavors of everything,” he mutters.
But when he sees that Kristoffer’s serves chocoflan, he
practically melts. “Chocoflan,” he says longingly. “I didn’t
see that!” Bayless is more than familiar with chocoflan,
though in his world it’s called pastel imposible (impossible
cake). The dish conglomerates chocolate cake and flan, but
here’s the impossible part: Though the cake starts at the bottom of the pan, and the flan on top, the two flip-flop during
the baking process, resulting in a pastel where the chocolate is on top and flan is on the bottom. It’s a huge hit on
Bayless’s TV show, so he has to try a piece here, as well as a
slice of traditional tres leches and—what the hell—a Kahlua-
full page ad
flavored slice, too.
He swoons at the first
taste of chocoflan. And the
tres leches—it isn’t good,
it’s more than good. It is
sumptuous without being
soggy, satisfying without being overly sweet. Bayless sits
at the table and falls into
deep thought, forking cake
into his mouth in silence.
Finally, he walks up to the
counter and asks to speak
to the couple who own the
place. He doesn’t have to
introduce himself—they’ve
been excited since he walked
in. Now, as he gets ready
to address them, they hold
on to each other in nervous
anticipation.
“I’ve eaten a lot of tres
leches in Mexico,” he tells
them. “And this—this is the
best one I’ve ever had.”
THE TAB
Don Pedro Carnitas
Carnitas taco, $1.50 each
Birrería Reyes de Ocotlan
Tacos, $1.50–$2.35;
Consommé, $1.60
Restaurant La Casa Del Pueblo
Torta de camaron, $1.95;
Chicharrónes, $6.95
Taquería Cardona’s
Huaraches, $4.20;
Agua fresca, $1.99
Kristoffer’s Cafe
Cakes, $4.25/slice
Salam
Meet in the Middle
... East
The gents from Alhambra Palace show us what
to eat, where to shop and how to be treated
like royalty on Kedzie Avenue.
By David Tamarkin
When Kher Albourine and
Dino Morched—the chef and
general manager, respectively,
of Alhambra Palace —walk into
Salam (4636 N Kedzie Ave, 773583-0776), it’s just to grab a kabob or two, and maybe a plate of
hummus. They don’t expect to
dip into baba ghanoush, or tear
open fresh spinach pies. They
don’t plan to get kibbeh, football-shaped bulgar-wheat dumplings stuffed with ground beef,
or freshly fried falafel. But despite their mild protests, food
keeps coming. Albourine eschews forks for the meal—he
rips pita bread instead, dipping it
into the hummus and grabbing
a morsel of meat. The falafel,
he says, is fresh, noting that it’s
only good for ten to 15 minutes
after it’s fried.
“You don’t like it if it’s cold,”
Albourine warns. Same thing
with the shawarma. “It’s not like
gyros,” says Morched, who used
to work in Greektown and would
watch in horror as trucks delivered frozen gyro meat to restaurants. “They make it here.” As he
says this, a meat pie is dropped
off at the table.
Morched tries to explain the
influx of unordered food as a tenet of Middle Eastern culture.
In his homeland of Morocco,
“Whatever you have cooked, you
give it [to the guest]. That’s how
deep the hospitality is.” It’s a nice
theory, but it ignores one key
fact: When Morched walked into
the place, he was immediately
greeted by an acquaintance, who
turned out to be the manager.
The same acquaintance refuses
to let the gentlemen pay for their
meal when they leave to go next
door to Nazareth Sweets (4638 N
Kedzie Ave, 773-463-2457). But
as the men gaze at a pastry case
of flaky desserts, Morched’s theory gains traction. “Close your
eyes and pick [any pastry] and it
will be the right thing,” he says.
It turns out he doesn’t have to
pick anything. The owners grab
various housemade sweets—
sticky baklava stuffed with pistachios, rich kunefe, a pastry made
with sweet cheese—and push
them across the counter. The
men laugh and talk as if they’ve
known each other for years, and
once again the customers exit
without having to dig into their
wallets. You’d never guess they’d
met the owners minutes ago.
“Talk about hospitality!”
Morched says. “You see how you
don’t have to ask anybody. If you
go to a grocery store, it will be
the same thing.”
To illustrate his point, they
head to Andy’s Fruit Ranch
(4733 N Kedzie Ave, 773-5832322). Walking the aisles, the
men point out good deals on
Middle Eastern staples (like
three-liter tins of Sultan olive
oil for $26.99), warn against
the terrible flavor of canned
hummus and point out the
brands they trust, such as the
dry goods by Ziyad (they use
this couscous in their restaurant). Finally, Morched sees one
of the store’s clerks. “Hello, my
friend!” Morched says, putting
his arm around the man and
chatting him up in Arabic. The
clerk listens intently, but then
confesses, “I don’t know what
you’re saying.”
Morched looks confused.
“You’re not Middle Eastern?”
“I’m Italian,” the clerk says.
But that’s okay. Morched
finds other friends at Al
Khayameih Bakery (4738 N
Kedzie Ave, 773-583-3077)
across the street. There, a huge
oven stands near the front windows, breathing hot air into
the place and baking dozens
of cheese pies; various Middle
Eastern breads like pita and its
thinner cousin, lavash, lie in
still-warm bags on the floor.
Just up the street, at Farm Meat
Market (4810 N Kedzie Ave,
773-588-1266), Morched and
Albourine are again treated like
stars. “This is the freshest meat
in town. They don’t freeze anything,” Morched says. The two
don’t even pretend to buy anything. They just wander around,
pointing at the lamb, the kidney,
the liver. “Thank you,” Morched
says to the owner as he walks
out. “For you?” the owner replies,
beaming, “No problem.”
Hummus plate, $4.99;
Baba ghanoush, $4.99;
Shawarma sandwich, $5;
Spinach pie, $1.69;
Meat pie, $1.69
Nazareth Sweets
Baklava, $7.50/lb;
Kunefe, $3 each
Al Khayameih Bakery
Pita and lavash, $1.60 per 10
ROYAL TREATMENT Chef Albourine of Alhambra
Palace gets treated like a king at Salam.
Comfortably ’Nam
Argyle Street’s encased meats & fragrant
herbs bring back sweet Saigon memories
for Viet Bistro’s transplanted chef.
By Julianne Will
Foodies know Dan Nguyen as the chef who
ran the upscale restaurant Pasteur with his
brother, Tuan, then closed that in 2007 to
open Viet Bistro (1346 W Devon Ave, 773465-5720) with his wife, Kim. But few may
realize Nguyen made a living on oil rigs before
moving on to cooking oil. After studying petroleum engineering in college, Nguyen worked
on an off-shore operation near Louisiana.
Eventually Nguyen’s mother asked him to
help his brother in the restaurant business in
Chicago, so in 1986 he braved the cold and
came north. Here, at least, he can find the
tropical flavors of hot Saigon, where he was
born and lived until the fall of the city in 1975.
“I need this for my restaurant,” Nguyen
says as he digs through the lemongrass, a
tropical herb, at Tai Nam Food Market (4925
N Broadway, 773-275-5666). He chooses fat
stalks: Nguyen grinds the pale bottom of the
lemongrass in a food processor and stir-fries
it with meat. He chops the tough, narrow
stems and simmers them in soup. “It’s very
versatile,” he says of the lemongrass, gesturing with a handful of stalks. Tai Nam is one of
his favorite places for produce. “They have a lot of
stuff to offer their customers fresh,” Nguyen says.
While Nguyen shops for bulk items for Viet Bistro
at a restaurant-supply center, he comes to Tai
Nam to pick up small quantities of whatever he’s
run out of. It’s inexpensive and, perhaps just as
important to him, the market offers parking.
Mien Hoa Market (1108 W Argyle St, 773334-8393) is another solid choice, Nguyen says.
Here, he can find galangal, which is similar to
ginger root. He might also pick up some bok choy,
kaffir lime leaves or tamarind.
On the opposite side of the street, the brownish-orange color of the roast duck hanging in the
window of Sun Wah Vietnamese BBQ (1134 W
Argyle St, 773-769-1254) suggests the restaurant doesn’t use much red dye in its hoisin sauce,
Nguyen says. Even better, “the taste is just like
back home.” Nguyen likes to pop in, place his
roast-duck order to go, then wait outside until it’s
chopped and ready; otherwise, he says, you end
up smelling like duck.
Nguyen cooks all day, so he lets someone else
do the work on his day off. One of his favorite restaurants is Dong Kinh Pho (1129 W Argyle
St, 773-271-2199). “I normally order something that I’m too lazy to cook at my place,”
Nguyen says. “They offer really, really authentic
food.” He might be a bit biased—the restaurant is
run by one of his former staffers. Rashed Islam,
Nguyen’s front-of-house manager and sommelier at Viet Bistro, joins him for lunch, noting
the jicama in the spring rolls is cut to just the
right thickness. Nguyen chooses the seafood rice
stick noodles soup, No. 49. It’s served with bean
sprouts, basil leaves, hot peppers and a wedge of
lime so you can season the soup to taste. And
no meal is complete without a glass of iced coffee, made with chicory and richly sweetened with
condensed milk.
If he wants something simple, Nguyen might slip
next door to the Chiu Quon Bakery (1127 W Argyle
St, 773-907-8888). Glass cases hold all kinds of
temptations: steamed buns with barbecued pork or
cabbage and a bean-paste cake for dessert. There’s
seating, but Nguyen often gets his treats to go.
He can find even more tempting take-out items
at Ba Le (5018 N Broadway, 773-561-4424), the
closest thing to a deli on this stretch of Argyle.
Chicken, meatball or pork-skin sandwiches (banh
mi) on baguettes are topped with daikon, grated
carrots and cilantro or mint. Islam also likes the
Bach Cuc–brand prepackaged curry beef jerky the
deli stocks, which is marinated in five spices, making it soft and crumbly rather than chewy.
Nguyen points out the Vietnamese spiced pâtés and sausages in the cooler: “This is how [the
Vietnamese] took the French concept of sausage
and made it their own,” he says. Nguyen also recommends the che ba, three-bean drinks from the
cooler, sweetened with coconut milk. If you’re
drinking it on the spot, the people behind the
counter will add shaved ice. When you can get a
concoction like this, why would you ever order another plain iced latte?
GOOD GRASS Nguyen grabs some lemongrass
at Tai Nam Food Market.
THE TAB
Tai Nam Food Market
Lemongrass, $1.09/lb
Mien Hoa Market
Galangal (frozen), $5.50/lb
Sun Wah Vietnamese BBQ
Roast duck, $7.25
medium; $13.50 large
Dong Kinh Pho
Spring rolls, $3;
Seafood rice stick noodles soup, $7.50;
Iced coffee, $3
Chiu Quon Bakery
Steamed buns (pork or cabbage), 95¢
each;
Bean-paste cake, 95¢ each
Ba Le
Banh mi sandwich, $2.95–$3.25;
Bach Cuc beef jerky, $17.50/lb;
Che ba bean drink, $2.95
Cruising for kimchi
For the best fermented veggies, blood sausage
& fried chicken, Le Lan’s chef insists a trek to
Niles is worth your while.
By Julianne Will
Bill Kim may be about to open pan-Asian
noodle shop Urban Belly in Logan Square, but
his stomach remains loyal to his mom’s Korean
dishes. Because he’s the chef at upscale FrenchAsian restaurant Le Lan, she’s tried to add some
American touches to her cooking. But he’s having none of it. “I want Korean food,” he says. “I
just want something very simple.”
Take kimchi, a quintessential Korean dish of
fermented vegetables—often napa cabbage, radishes and hot peppers. For the best, he suggests
a trip to Super H Mart (Civic Center Plaza, at
Oakton St and Waukegan Rd, Niles, 847-5811212), Niles’s big-box answer to a swelling Asian
suburban population. There, it’s easy to discern
variations in rows of glass jars. Vibrant greens
mean fresh kimchi, he says; a slight brownish
hue is a sign of age, which gives the fermented
vegetables a stronger, tangier taste. “Koreans are
very fussy about their kimchi.”
“You don’t see a lot of Korean stores that
have their own tofu department,” Kim says as
he peers into the open kitchen near the back of
the store. But even tofu addicts should stay away
from Super H Mart on Sundays if they’re hoping
to get in and out quickly---—the place is jumping.
“If you’re Korean,” Kim says, “eventually you’ll
run into someone you know.”
In one of the little shops inside Super H
QUITE A SPREAD Le Lan’s chef, Bill Kim, enjoys some
Mart surrounding the grocery, you can inkalbi, (marinated short ribs) at Arirang in Niles.
dulge in hot, double-fried chicken at Toreore’s
Chicken and Joy (847-965-0311). Kim orders
the No. 1, marinated fried chicken, a 14-piece
blood sausage. Slices dipped in seasoned salt
feast with shredded daikon radish on the side.
go down like cheese fries at the ballpark and
“I love the pickled radish, which provides a light
taste more like ramen noodles than pork blood.
touch to a heavy dish,” he says.
Kimchi comes standard, but other sides vary, Kim
Just around the corner at the same strip mall
says. Cool, gelatinous squares of bean-curd jelly,
lies grilled-meat mecca Arirang Korean BBQ (741 for example, are “not as refreshing in the winter
Civic Center Dr, 847-966-7072). Kim loves the
as in the summer.”
kalbi, or marinated short ribs. “Sometimes people
For the closest thing to Korean street food,
get irritated when they have to cook [their own
Kim recommends checking out Chingoojib
food at the table],” Kim says as he unrolls the
(9098 N Golf Road, 847-759-8880). “It takes
meat with tongs and grills over a gas flame built
me back to my childhood,” he says. “I was only
into the table. When you order a main dish—
seven in Korea when I got to taste my first street
meat, stew, fish or noodles—waitresses deliver
food. It was spicy rice cake with veggies,” which
banchan, a herd of colorful sides including napa- is $10.90 at Chingoojib. The dish is a stew of
cabbage kimchi, radish kimchi, spinach tofu, fish chicken stock, Korean chili paste, mushrooms,
cakes and seasoned cucumbers.
pine nuts and vegetables with rice cakes (think
Next, Kim investigates the new Assi Plaza
Korean gnocchi).
International Food Store (8901 N Milwaukee Ave,
When he wants something on the sweet847-470-9450), and finds Mae Ploy (his favorite er side, Kim stops by the appropriately named
brand of sweet chili sauce) and the most versatile Bakersville (8357 W Golf Road, 847-966-0404),
brand of coconut milk (Chaokoh). Assi also sells a Korean bakery. He goes for the custard bread,
refrigerators designed for kimchi, Kim points out. the rich-but-light pound cake, the butter-andA fridge just for kimchi? “Oh, yeah,” he says with sugar bread and the sweet bean-paste egg bread.
a laugh, “kimchi will stink up your cooler.”
There’s no smell in the air here other than sweet,
It’s too early for karaoke when Kim stops by
baked goodness, so even those who can’t get past
Jang Chung Dong (9078 W Golf Rd, 847-768the odor of kimchi elsewhere are sure to find
5884), but he sings the praises of the restaurant’s something appealing.
full page ad
THE TAB
Super H Mart
Fresh kimchi, $6.49/32oz;
Housemade tofu, $1.29
Toreore’s Chicken and Joy
Fried chicken, $18.65/14 pieces
Arirang Korean BBQ
Kalbi, $16.99
Assi Plaza Internat’l Food Store
Mae Ploy sweet chili sauce, $3.45;
Chaokoh coconut milk, 75¢
Jang Chung Dong
Blood sausage, $9.99
Chingoojib
Spicy rice cakes with veggies, $10.90
Bakersville
Custard bread, $1.25;
Pound cake, $1.40;
Butter-and-sugar bread, $1.35;
Sweet bean-paste egg bread,
$1.45 each