Chicago: The Purple Pig

To the uninitiated, the Purple Pig is to be regarded with suspicion. It is incessantly plugged in visitor’s guides and travel books. Everyone has heard of it. It’s on the Mag Mile, for Christ’s sake. Not tucked onto some side street. No, there it is, smack dab in the middle of one of the most tourist-trodden streets in America, next to a Nordstrom. To a New Yorker like myself, this is like going to a restaurant in Rockefeller Center, or even worse, Times Square. No self-respecting gourmand does it.

But then there’s that cheeky little tagline under the brazen purple sign. “Cheese, Swine and Wine.” Those three words are the first sign that this may not be your typical tourist trap of a restaurant. They embrace the kind of devil-may-care, hedonistic, and progressive attitude towards food that isn’t usually directed at the camera-toting fanny pack set. And while the focus is decidedly Italian, like so many other restaurants in Chicago, a glance at the menu of small plates reveals a carefully picked over roster of Mediterranean-influenced dishes, traditional in their elements, but reassuringly modern in their execution.

Razor clams with oregano, lemon and olive oil

Charred cauliflower, toasted breadcrumbs, cornichons, parsley

Prosciutto bread balls

Such precursory clues may assuage some of the fear, but any lingering trepidation dissipates when the first few plates hit the table. Razor clams on the half shell, playfully arranged like Jenga tiles, are fresh and plump, their toothsome meatiness offset only by some lemon and the faint herbal nuances of oregano. An antipasto of green cauliflower retains just enough crunch, and the charring imparts a smokiness that never crosses over into bitterness. They are again dressed with a bit of lemon, but the initial tartness eventually gives way to the delicate sweetness of the vegetable.

Milk braised pork shoulder with mashed potatoes

Pork neck bone gravy with ricotta

Pork, naturally, is king at the Purple Pig, and the kitchen pays its respects in several standout dishes. The milk braised pork shoulder is one of the restaurant’s most ordered items, and it isn’t hard to see why. It is a crowd-pleasing simple dish done right. The potatoes are creamy and lump-free, and the shoulder is tender with a rich savoriness. Pork neck bone gravy with ricotta, dubbed a ‘smear’ on the menu, sounds perplexing in theory, conjuring up images of a watery, country gravy rustled up with scraps from the neighborhood butcher. However, it arrives as a ramekin of red sauce, anointed with a little mound of ricotta, to be heaped onto thick slices of grilled country bread. The first bite is deceivingly disappointing, fooling you into thinking you are just eating bread with tomato sauce and cheese, a poor man’s cheese lasagna. But as you chew, you are alerted to the ropes of silky neck bone meat, the undercurrent of heat in the sauce, all coddled by the milky ricotta. It is startlingly good in both its familiarity and novelty - this isn’t your Nonna’s Sunday gravy.

Olive Oil Poached Tuna with Greek Lima Beans

The kitchen veers off course a bit with a cold appetizer of olive oil poached tuna with Greek lima beans. The tuna is tough and dry, its gristly texture giving no indication of the gentle poaching it was purported to have gone through. Although the beans are cool and appropriately creamy, the dish is entirely too salty.

Toasted cinnamon soft serve ice cream

Panino con Nutella: chocolate hazelnut spread, banana, marshmallow spread

The dessert menu clings to time-honored classics, with a few twists along the way. Instead of the usual gelato offerings, the Purple Pig opts for the trendier soft serve. The toasted cinnamon version is big on flavor, but the ice cream lacks the staunchly smooth mouth feel of a good soft serve; miniscule ice crystals are discernible throughout, compromising the creamy texture. A panino of Nutella, bananas and marshmallow cream is frivolously indulgent enough, but certainly nothing that couldn’t be whipped up at home.

Stacked up against its counterparts in other cities, the Purple Pig seems to have achieved the impossible: an enviable location on a glitzy thoroughfare, easy access to impressionable tourists, and the respect of locals, all the while maintaining culinary integrity at prices that won't force you to subsist on Saltines for the remainder of the week. It doesn't seem quite fair, but try as you might, you just can't hate the place. So you resign yourself to being another shameless groupie, only to realize, when you finally set down your fork, that you really don't care.

The Purple Pig

500 North Michigan Avenue
Chicago, IL 60611-3777
Phone: (312) 464-1744

Best dishes: Razor clams, pork neck bone gravy, charred cauliflower, milk braised pork shoulder

Hours: Sunday - Thursday 11:30 a.m to Midnight (Kitchen open 'til midnight); Friday & Saturday 11:30 a.m. to 2:00 a.m. (Kitchen open 'til 1 a.m.)

Basta Pasta

The hackneyed, usually misguided notion of "East meets West" has conferred a number of horrors upon society. An era of bad "Asian" fusion restaurants. General Tso's chicken. Steven Seagal movies.

Unfortunately, Basta Pasta joins the ranks of these botched attempts at cultural amalgamation. An experiment in Japanese-Italian cuisine, it exhibits many of the same qualities that befall the worst offenders of the East-meets-West cliche: novel enough to pique your interest, questionably lauded by many, neither country represented particularly well. The result is confused and poorly executed fare that captures neither the clean precision of Japanese cuisine nor the comforting heartiness of Italian food.

The meal begins innocuously enough. Truth be told, I enjoyed myself somewhat at the bread and appetizer stage. Little crisps of bread anointed with slices of goat cheese "lite" were brought to the table. I say goat cheese "lite" because it tasted like a cross between butter and goat cheese, the usual gaminess of the goat's milk diluted by a creamier, saltier flavor.

Calamari alla griglia: Grilled squid served with homemade sausage stuffed with curry risotto, golden raisins, pistachios and prosciutto.

Bagna cauda: Fresh vegetables with warm anchovy cream dip.

Calamari alla griglia arrived next. Though a bit salty, this dish wasn't half bad. The squid was tender, and the sausage was moist and well-spiced with curry. A less aggressive hand with the salt shaker and this would have been a solid appetizer. However, bagna cauda, the Piedmontese garlic-anchovy vegetable dip, would have been more aptly named "cream of garlic and salt." There was not one discernible anchovy in the white gloop that was served, and the consistency was reminiscent of those Campbell's condensed cream soups that I loved as a child. Still, strangely tasty, in that processed, I-know-it's-crap-but-my-taste-buds-like-fat-and-salt kind of way.

Spaghetti ai Ricci di Mare: Spaghetti with sea urchin, tomatoes and basil in garlic oil.

Server tossing pasta in Parmesan wheel.

Spaghetti con Prosciutto e Parmagiano: Spaghetti with Parmesan and Parma Prosciutto

Then the pastas arrived, and things took a turn for the worse. The much-hyped sea urchin spaghetti is perhaps one of the worst pastas I have ever had. Lackluster, pink tomatoes (can someone please explain serving out-of-season tomatoes in the middle of summer at a half-Italian restaurant?) languished on top of bland, store-bought noodles. Raggedy scraps of sea urchin littered the plate, polluting the dish with a bitter and metallic taste I never quite managed to rid my mouth of. The Spaghetti con Prosciutto e Parmagiano was equally as insipid, despite being energetically tossed in a gargantuan wheel of Parmesan cheese tableside. This bit of theater is probably the best part of ordering pasta at Basta Pasta, but it's sort of like going to the strip club - you get a tantalizing show, but leave with a noticeably thinner wallet and a hard-on for something a lot more fulfilling and expensive.

Tagliolini con Ragu di Pesce: Homemade tagliolini with Chilean sea bass ragu, capers and shredded zucchini in a spicy tomato sauce.

The tagliolini with Chilean sea bass is the one saving grace of the restaurant's pasta offerings. The texture of the pasta is slightly better, and the sauce is zesty and chock full of fish and ripe tomatoes (presumably, not the same ones thrown on top of the sea urchin monstrosity).

Vulcano: Melting chocolate inside warm cocoa sponge cake with vanilla gelato and fresh fruit

Crepe con Mela: Crepe filled with vanilla gelato, apple compote, Earl Grey jelly and sliced almonds.

For some reason, we ordered dessert. The molten chocolate cake was even more generic than most, being neither dense nor molten enough. And the Crepe con Mela tasted strangely of Kool-Aid, which was amusing and nostalgic, but nevertheless, unsatisfying.

In the right hands, fusion cuisine can be a success. However, Basta Pasta's neglect of the basic ideals of both Japanese and Italian cooking (unripe tomatoes? old sea urchin?) makes for a muddled and subpar experience that fails to impress on either front.

Basta Pasta

37 W. 17th Street

New York, NY 10011

(212) 366-0888

Best dishes: Calamari alla griglia, tagliolini with sea bass ragu

Sorella

The borders of Chinatown have been creeping into Little Italy for years now, but Italian newcomer Sorella has decided to strike back. In 2009, it plopped itself down between two rundown Chinese storefronts on Allen Street, close enough to the East Village to attract downtown hipsters with its small plates and wine bar concept, but in a humble enough location to match its fledgling status. Its impenetrable dark gray exterior is hardly inviting, but behind those heavy doors and rows of tiny porthole windows, a delightful jaunt through the cuisine of Piedmont, Italy awaits those curious enough to enter.

Piedmont is located in northern Italy, and is one of the country's wealthiest regions. Unsurprisingly, its cuisine is characterized by luxurious, rich ingredients; egg yolks, truffles, butter and cheese are used with a heavy hand. Sorella doesn't deviate from this decadent approach, yet manages to imbue a certain lightness to its fare, so that the diner is satisfied, rather than overwhelmed, by the end of the meal. The way the menu is structured, into qualcosina ("little something" in Italian), probably helps too.

The meal begins with a bundle of complimentary grissini, the slender breadsticks that originated in Turin, the capital of Piedmont. Crunchy and salty, they have an addictive quality that will have you reaching for them throughout your meal.

Pate de fegato: Duck fat English muffin bread, chicken liver mousse, fried egg, bacon.

This is what I came to Sorella for. Extravagant? Sure. Pervasive meatiness emanating from every duck fat-soaked bite I took? Check. However, while this dish was good, it was a bit underwhelming. The flavors failed to play off one another and highlight the intensity of the other components; they were individually delicious, but never became more than a sum of their parts.

Hearst Ranch Beef Carne Cruda: sugar snap peas, parmesan, lemon aioli and crispy shallots.

The beef cruda fared much better. Luscious cubes of beef sit on the plate like a mound of rubies, crowned with a tangle of fried shallots that lend a savory crunch to the supple meat. The effect is a whole lot like eating a good rare steak topped with some frizzled onions or thick cut potato chips - just in a more refined package. A smear of that lemon aioli, and that's about as good as it gets. The sugar snap peas were lovely as well, sweet and delicate, momentarily punctuated by the sharp Parmesan with each forkful.

Risotto: Ruby red shrimp, Caprino Capra, lemon, almond, chilies

Pasta is one of Sorella's strong points. Risotto, which I usually associate with fall or winter, had been carefully tweaked to complement the warm summer weather through the use of lighter, sunnier ingredients. The fat, al dente grains of rice, which had been stirred to a creamy (though never mushy) consistency were enlivened by the zest of the lemon and subtle crunch of sliced almonds. From time to time, you will be rewarded with one of those sweet ruby red shrimp, plump and jewel-like, nestled in the risotto's starchy depths.

Tajarin: Lamb ragu, black pepper ricotta, pistachios, mint

Tajarin, a delicate, egg yolk-heavy pasta specific to the Piedmont region, is one of the best pastas you will ever eat and Sorella's is no exception. The subtle gaminess of the lamb, the grassiness of the ricotta and the soft egginess of the pasta combine in a whirlwind of contrasting and complementary flavors, the noodles maintaining an ethereal daintiness despite their heavy accoutrements. I especially loved the ricotta, which is thicker and more paste-like than most - it gives the dish a presence rather than taking a backseat to the lamb and the tajarin.

Brussel sprouts with bacon and apple

The brussel sprouts were the only true disappointment of the night. They had been roasted down to a abrasive bitterness, rather than a caramelized sweetness. We abandoned this shortly after its arrival.

Bomboloni: Lemon custard, raspberry sauce

These little Italian doughnuts are a favorite of mine, and I order them every chance I get. On that particular night, a tart lemon custard had been piped into the doughnuts, which were accompanied by a raspberry dipping sauce. While I love both lemon and raspberry, I would have preferred more of a contrast between the filling and the sauce. The tart sweetness of the lemon custard was mirrored in the raspberry sauce, making for a rather one-dimensional experience. Nevertheless, I ate my fair share.

Assortment of gelato: Espresso, hazelnut and peanut butter

Like any good Italian restaurant, Sorella offers a daily selection of gelati and sorbetti. Neither the espresso nor the hazelnut gelato made much of an impression; however, the peanut butter evoked memories of my favorite childhood Reese's ice cream.

Sorella is a bit pricey, with small plates ranging from $10-16 and desserts from $8-11. With wine, the meal can become exorbitantly expensive for what you thought was a casual dinner out. The wines are impressive, but if you are worried about price, splurge on either food or wine, not both. The restaurant itself is conducive to such an approach; it is split into two main areas: a dimly lit wine bar at the front of the restaurant, and a small but airy dining area in the back with expansive skylights cut into the ceiling. Whatever your pleasure, once you are behind that imposing facade, you will find yourself transported to a charming cafe in Piedmont, where carefree diners sip velvety wines and laugh over wonderfully executed regional cuisine - a little bit of Italy in Chinatown.

Sorella

95 Allen St.

New York, NY 10002

Best dishes: Beef cruda, risotto, tajarin, any of the pastas

Hours: Closed on Mondays; Tues-Sat: 6pm - 2am; Sun: 5:30pm-midnight. A reservation is likely not necessary.