Eat local: mado

June 25, 8:55 AMChicago Dining ExaminerEmily Szopa

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I love seasonal menus. Seasonal = fresh = local = just plain good for everyone. One of the newest seasonal menus is at mado, a laid-back, rustically appointed restaurant in Bucktown (1647 N. Milwaukee Ave.). It's BYOB—a plus!—and although I failed to B my own B on my first visit, the experience hardly suffered from my omission. (Okay, so maybe some prosecco would have been nice.)

Mado is open in the morning and again in the evening (Tues.-Sun.), offering commuters (and the oh-so-lucky summer vacationers) fresh cups of organic, fair-trade Metropolis coffee and small plates for breakfast/lunch, and then a similar menu for dinner, but with the addition of several entrees. They also have brunch available on the weekends. The restaurant’s owners, husband and wife team Robert and Allison Levitt, change the menu daily, depending on what’s available and looking good at the market that morning.

The servers are friendly and knowledgeable, and the food—we’ll call it contemporary Mediterranean—is outstanding. One of the benefits to the Levitts’ local shopping is that they butcher much of the meat they buy in-house, which in turn means that there are more unusual parts of the animal to showcase. The Guanciale Crostini, for example, is a small croute topped with thinly sliced pig jowl. Like the ethereal ribbon of prociutto it appeared to be, it deliciously melted on my tongue before I could even close my mouth.

My first visit to Mado was on a Thursday at 7:30pm. We had stopped in on a whim and there were only two other tables already seated, so we considered ourselves lucky to be seated immediately. The reviews I had already read highly recommended making a reservation, and we soon saw why: By 8pm the restaurant was packed.

The menu is written on a giant blackboard that hangs in the dining room, listing the fresh, local foodstuffs that inspire the evening’s offerings. Conveniently (my back was to the blackboard), paper menus were handed to us by our cheery, enthusiastic server. This is not a white linen atmosphere, nor do the servers wear uniforms other than simple aprons, creating an altogether comfortable, relaxed dining experience.  Even the chefs are free from the standard coat-and-toque ensemble, with the sous chef that evening donning a straw cowboy hat embellished with his own touches: a skull and crossbones patch, several boars’ teeth struck through the crown, and even a couple of pig bones jammed into the band. (Did you need to know that? Maybe not.)

The comfort level suited the quality of the food, which was exquisite in both taste as well as presentation, yet never verging on fussy or ostentatious. We started with the Scallop Crudo with Grapefruit and Esplette Pepper, which was cooked perfectly. The delicate sweetness of the scallop was nicely complemented by the bright grapefruit, which both surrounded the scallop with its tart juice and oil and also lay atop the mollusk itself as paper-thin slices of supremed fruit. My friend thought the grapefruit nearly overwhelmed the dish, but I thought the subtle heat of the pepper brought it back home.
 

  
 

We also sampled the Guanciale Crostini , as I mentioned above (I’d lose the croûte on this one. Small though it was, it was still too much bread for such a delicate topping), as well as the Pork Rillettes and Baby Octopus Bruschetta. The baby octopus brought me as close to being disappointed as I could get at Mado, but only because the large plank of bread on which it sat was too unwieldy. Then again, there’s nothing wrong with picking up a fork and knife to get the job done, and I’m glad we did because the char-grilled, firm-textured octopus delivered the Mediterranean flavor we had been looking for: simple and fresh.

The Pork Rilletes, on the other hand, won me over simply by being rillettes, because really, what can anyone say that’s bad about rillette (Other than your primary care physician, that is)? Meat cooked in its own fat and then made into a rich delicious paste and spread on bread? If that doesn’t make you smile, you must be a vegetarian. My love of fatty meats aside, I by no means wish to downplay the rich, smoky flavor of Mado’s rillettes. They were my favorite of the four apps, standing up nicely to the well-toasted croûtes with a smooth, creamy texture I adore.

Our entrees, Hanger Steak with Gorgonzola Polenta and Rainbow Trout with Walnuts, Coriander and Marjoram, were amazing follow-ups to the small plates we tore through. My steak arrived sliced on the bias to reveal a rare to medium-rare center (I’d always prefer my meat slightly undercooked rather than overcooked to any degree), and was nicely seasoned and charred on the outside. The buttery polenta was so rich it could have easily stood on its own, but the gorgonzola added a very welcome, tangy kick. I also ordered a side of sunchokes, which could have used a little salt, but the their crunch was what I was really craving anyway. 

 The humble honeybee, creator of sweetness.
 Photo credit: Mateusz Atroszko
 

The trout had a more delicate flavor, although the eyes were apparently pretty rich (per my companion, who—I didn’t previously know this—eats fish eyes). The herb dressing was somewhat subtle, as was the seasoning, with the walnuts adding an earthy depth to the otherwise light dish.

Now, dessert. One thing I need to recommend you try, if not at Mado, then at some point in your life, is among the simplest desserts you could imagine: Cheese and honey. Okay, so maybe it’s not a revelation, but this wasn’t just any cheese, nor just any honey.

If it’s still around at Mado, you have to try the Buffalo Ricotta drizzled with organic farmer’s honey. The sour creaminess of the ricotta paired with the bright (not cloying) sweetness of the raw honey is pure bliss. To say it’s like the best cheesecake I’ve ever tasted is an approximation, yet it doesn’t even approach reality. I was about to lick the plate when my sense of decorum (shaky though it is) stopped me. Our server saw my resolve waver for that brief moment and sidled up to our table to whisper knowingly, “Go ahead, we don’t judge here.”

Make your way to mado: 1647 N. Milwaukee Ave., Chicago, IL.

Top right: Modest mado / Photo credit: citysearch.com
Middle left: Guanciale (pig jowl) / Photo credit: ilovebacon.com