An Affogato in a Cup, and the Line That’s Part of the Ritual at Jeni’s Ice Cream
A shift in the weather might be all it takes to reset the city’s collective mindset. Suddenly, ice cream feels less like a treat and more like a necessity. And the line at Jeni’s Splendid Ice Creams is all the confirmation I needed that we’re all sharing one same thought.
Even if true ice cream weather hasn’t quite settled in, I’ve already made my way through a few flavors, including Sponge Cake from the shop’s limited-edition Bridgerton-inspired collection. This flavor is layered with honey sponge cake and raspberry rose jam. There’s also an earl grey tea ice cream in the lineup, which is already on my sampling horizon.
But the highlight of my visit was the House Coffee flavor. This is an affogato translated into ice cream: rich, but not overly sweet, with notes of cocoa, toasted nuts, and espresso layered throughout. Bold, balanced, and coffee-forward.
And getting that photo? A journey!
The first time I went, I waited in line for a while, only to find out they were out of cone cups, so no good picture of that. But the ice cream was still worth it.
Bad picture, good ice cream at Jeni’s. So of course… take two. Another line (because there are always lines), and this time I was looking forward to my “affogato in a cup.” I made sure waffle cones were available! Mission accomplished. And yes, it was just as good as I hoped. I should have splurged and gone for four scoops, though.
And as of 3/26, there are also new flavors on deck: Key Lime Pie, Basque Cheesecake with blueberry jam, and Black Tie Tiramisu. I haven’t tried them yet, but they read like a strong argument for getting back in line.
If you’re looking for a location near you, you can find all the Chicagoland shops here. You can also skip the line and find Jeni’s at several local retailers.
Minyoli’s Tribute to Taiwan’s Vanishing Food Traditions
In the middle of Chicago’s ever-changing dining landscape, there’s a corner where memory simmers. Minyoli, a small Taiwanese restaurant in Andersonville, holds on to the stories of the culturally rich juàn cūn, or military dependents’ villages, that once dotted Taiwan and are now slowly disappearing along with their food.
Named after the juàn cūn where chef and owner Rich Wang’s family lived, Minyoli traces its roots to the settlements created after 1949, when Nationalist soldiers left mainland China with their families and whatever pieces of home they could carry with them. Though intended to be temporary, the refugee communities became permanent, growing into worlds of their own. What emerged was a cuisine shaped by resourcefulness, longing and the blending of regional traditions in communal kitchens.
Wang’s own path reflects that combination of old and new. Born in Taipei, he moved to the United States and trained in Chicago kitchens. He cooked at Fat Rice, traveled to Lanzhou to study hand-pulled noodles and earned an official noodle-maker certification, then cooked in Macau before returning to Chicago to open Minyoli. The restaurant is his way of keeping his home’s flavors alive. “Places can be controversial,” he said. “But food always brings people together.”
Minyoli offers a contemporary take on the juàn cūn noodle shops now fading amid rapid redevelopment and gentrification. The menu leans into comfort with hearty broths, handmade noodles, rice dishes and familiar street snacks. There’s also seasonal updates and a brunch menu, with a variety of different dishes.
Ganban noodles at Minyoli. We started with the fried chicken, perfectly crisp and almost addictive thanks to potato starch and a light coating of plum powder. The sesame ganban noodles arrived with a side of house-made chili oil and were so well executed that we are already planning a return trip for the spicy tallow noodles with braised beef shank. Even the vegetables, a celtuce and wood ear mushroom salad, delivered a pleasant surprise with clean, earthy, nutty flavors.
On weekends, the restaurant shifts into a gentler rhythm that nods to Taiwanese mornings. Egg crepes come with fillings like pork, vegetables or shrimp. Shao bing sandwiches are assembled on house-baked sesame bread. The beverages deepen the sense of nostalgia, with drinks like the sweet phoenix bean soy milk with a toasty, almost caramel warmth, and the house-made mi jiang, a thick roasted peanut and rice drink that falls somewhere between a drink and dessert.
Inside, details borrowed from Wang’s grandfather, including small heirlooms and midcentury textures, tie the space to juàn cūn domestic life and the quiet routines that shaped its food.
The drinks take a more playful path while staying connected to the restaurant’s foundation. A cocktail made with 10 yr. Shaoxing wine and shallots is complex and bright in a way that feels refreshing rather than sharp. Named She Sells Shallots by the Seashore the cocktail leans savory in a way that seems unexpected until the first sip reveals its balance. The drinks look ahead, yet they follow the same instincts as the food: curiosity, memory and craft.
In a city full of crossings and influences, Minyoli offers not just a taste of Taiwan’s layered history but an entry point into it. What you eat here is the cuisine of people who were expected to leave and found ways to stay. It is hearty, creative, bold and deeply alive.
Minyoli is open Wednesday and Thursday from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. and from 5 to 8:30 p.m.; Friday and Saturday from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. and 5 to 9:30 p.m.; and Sunday from 11 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. for brunch and 5 to 8:30 p.m. for dinner. Reservations are available online.
Chiles en Nogada: The Dish of a Revolution
Foto: Bertha Herrera para La Vitamina T If you’re lucky enough to be in Mexico in late summer and early fall, you’ll probably catch chiles en nogada on menus everywhere. Literally “peppers in walnut sauce,” this seasonal showstopper hails from Puebla and first appeared in the 19th century as a tribute to Mexico’s independence from Spain.
Part recipe, part prayer, legend has it that Augustinian nuns in Atlixco scrambled to honor Agustín de Iturbide, the caudillo* turned emperor, when he passed through Puebla after sealing the deal on independence in Veracruz. They improvised a dish that, like waved the flag on the plate: green poblano peppers, white walnut sauce, and ruby-red pomegranate seeds.
Bite into one and it’s part warrior, part angel. The poblano is stuffed with a mix of meats and fruits (apples, pears, peaches, maybe even plantains) that somehow works. Then it’s finished with that silky walnut sauce and jeweled with pomegranate seeds, which only show up in Mexican markets through mid-September. Blink, and you’ll miss it.
And like any dish worth fighting over, chiles en nogada comes with its own rivalry: capeados (egg-battered and fried) vs. sin capear (left in their natural roasted state). Purists will die on their hill for one or the other, but both versions will knock you sideways.
This dish is part indigenous, part Spanish, and entirely Mexican: a culinary snapshot of a nation built on contrasts, complexity, and sheer poetry.
If you see it, order it.
You are welcome.
We recommend:
In Mexico City:
In Chicago:
A few years ago I wrote an article for Eater Chicago highlighting a few versions of this dish that are worth trying. Some of them are available year-round. I recently had a great one at Istmo.
*Military leader
Originally published on 8/11/2013. Updated 9/15/2025.
Chasing Mole: chef Geno Bahena and the Love that Loved him Back
Chef Geno Bahena of Manchamanteles in Logan Square debuts a mole rojo pizza, created in collaboration with Grumpy Pies. In the late 80s, when “Mexican food” in the U.S. was still too often reduced to nachos and margaritas, chef Geno Bahena was in the kitchen doing something far more daring. Bahena helped open Frontera Grill and Topolobampo, two restaurants that redefined the conversation and proved Mexican food could be as nuanced, layered, emotional and intellectual as any cuisine in the world.
But this chef’s story begins far earlier, in Guerrero, Mexico. At the age of ten, he stood beside his grandmother as she stirred a pot of mole rojo. Built from 32 ingredients, roasted, toasted, ground, and coaxed together, this regional delicacy was “festive, seductive and impossibly complex.” Mole wasn’t just food; it was memory and ritual, and it became the north star of his life. By twelve, Bahena cooking on his own, bound by strict rules: eat everything you make, and leave the kitchen spotless. His first dish, chilaquiles verdes, was an instant success.
Rebellion had become freedom, and freedom had become passion.
As a teenager, young Geno fell in love. The feeling was real, but the story never unfolded. Heartbreak only sharpened his passion for cooking. When he told his father he wanted to be a professional cook, he found no encouragement. Cooking, his father believed, wasn’t a path worth following. Still, he offered a bittersweet blessing: “Go to the United States. If it doesn’t work, come back. I’ll help you.”
So, Bahena left home trying to outrun heartache and chasing a dream no one else believed in but him.
In Chicago, he tried to apply for college, but admissions were closed. A teacher asked him to cook. He made mole, no recipe, no measurements, just memory. That dish opened doors.
The road was far from easy. Twice he nearly dropped out of school for lack of money. Once, without bus fare, the same mentor who saw his talent and opened a spot in college for him, pressed cash into his hand. When Frontera Grill was about to open, his school sent him to practice there. Expecting an entry-level job, he was offered the sous chef position instead. Afraid he was not ready, he turned it down. According to Bahena, three months later, Rick Bayless offered the position to him again, this time with a salary, a uniform and a place on the team. Bahena said yes.
By 1999, he was ready to build a kitchen of his own. Izcaputzalco began with just 40 seats, then quickly grew to 140 as word spread. The menu celebrated Mexico with regional flavors drawn from all 32 states and a signature rotation of Oaxaca’s seven legendary moles, each paired with unexpected proteins like guinea hen, rabbit, venison, and poussin.
When guests wanted more, Geno answered with Chilpancingo: bold and ambitious in River North. From there, his horizon kept expanding. He lent his hand and vision to 36 restaurants nationwide, from California to Boston to Arkansas. Most recently, he introduced Manchamanteles to Logan Square. Named for Oaxaca’s “tablecloth stainer” mole, both sweet and spicy, it shows Bahena is still finding new ways to express his craft.
That craft carried him beyond restaurants as well, to stages like the White House and the U.S. Capitol, where he cooked for 1,000 guests.Today, Chef Geno Bahena is recognized as one of Chicago’s great voices in Mexican food. Some call him a mole icon, but for him, recognition was never the point. What mattered was honoring ingredients, celebrating tradition, and gathering people at the table: a forty-year history of turning memory into craft and craft into connection. And in that long pursuit, he not only caught his dream; he found in cooking the one love that never left, the love that loved him back.
Eat the Art: Inside LIA Chicago
River North is having a moment. Heavy hitters like Asador Bastian and intriguing transplants such as Matilda (New York) and Hawksmoor (London) among a few others are breathing fresh energy into the neighborhood. Right in the middle of that buzz, LIA has moved into what I remembered most vividly as the old Bohemian House space (later home to Flora and Fauna), confident, creative and approachable.
“Life Imitates Art” isn’t just a clever name, it’s LIA’s guiding principle. You see it in the textured walls, the brushstrokes behind the bar, and the food itself. Each dish on the menu arrives on a different plate that doubles as its own canvas —26 in total. Even “The Bucket,” one of the cocktails, leans into the theme, arriving in a paint bucket with dry ice and garnished with a real piece of art.
LIA offers both a $120 six-course tasting menu and à la carte dishes. We tried both.
The tasting menu draws inspiration from different artists and will change periodically. The one we tried takes its cues from Chicago artist Kb of Laundry Room Studios, whose text-driven art and storytelling extend from the canvas to the plate.
Our meal kicked off with two delicate bites: foie gras mousse accented with cherry gel, then a chilled vichyssoise crowned with caviar and a swirl of dill oil.
The second course builds on that grace with tartare brightened by a house-made pickle, then takes a playful turn — a Thai lemongrass chicken dumpling floating in coconut green curry broth, where you choose your spice level from one to five. I went bold with a four. The dumpling was beautiful, delicious and texturally memorable. Likely my favorite dish on the tasting menu.
Next came Ora King salmon, poached in olive oil and set over vegetables. Then coriander-crusted duck breast arrived with a fragrant tamarind and kaffir lime–orange sauce, paired with masala-spiced couscous.
Dessert was a Nutella tiramisu adorned with a hand-painted chocolate “artwork” — a nod to the chef’s inspiration — as much a visual encore as a sweet one.
Chef and co-owner Justin Vaiciunas, a Detroit-area native, and his business partner Michael Mauro — a sommelier with a knack for art-driven concepts — first teamed up to open The Jackson in Rochester Hills, an homage to American painter Jackson Pollock where the plates were as expressive as the canvases. With LIA, their second act, they bring that same intersection of art and food to River North on a bigger stage. The result is surprisingly human: a space that supports local artists, works staff-created pieces into plating and builds an experience that feels collaborative rather than over-curated. Here, you’re part of art. Enjoying it is part of the show, and you are not just a spectator. Guests can also participate by purchasing works from the featured artist.
The tasting menu walks a careful line between precision and generosity — caviar and duck, yes, but they don’t strut across the table demanding applause and stuffing you to to the point you cannot longer enjoy Instead, they’re quietly confident, creative, playful even.
We couldn’t resist adding a few à la carte plates, most memorably the shrimp Miró — delicate Argentinian prawns slicked in saffron aioli with caper berries, lemon, shallots, garlic and a generous pour of extra-virgin olive oil. If you know Miró, you’ll catch the visual reference; if you know shrimp, you’ll appreciate the unique texture that makes this dish possible.
The drinks deserve equal billing. Mauro’s cocktail program offers creative twists on classics. Even if you’re not committing to the tasting menu, LIA is an easy place to land for an after-work drink. Many of the featured cocktails hover around $12, making them accessible without feeling ordinary.
The room carries the same spirit: inviting and artistic, but never pretentious. A table by the window, weather permitting, lets you feel as though you’re dining al fresco.
In Justin’s hands, the plate becomes a canvas and the meal a kind of living exhibition, art you don’t simply admire from afar, but hold on your fork. At LIA, life doesn’t just imitate art, it tastes like it. And much like life, it’s gone before you know it.
LIA, 11 W. Illinois St. (near N. State St.), Chicago; (312) 550-3425; reservations via OpenTable. Dinner Tuesday through Thursday, 5 to 10 p.m.; Friday and Saturday, 5 to 11 p.m.; Sunday, 5 to 10 p.m.; closed Monday.
Slice of the Suburbs: WG Pizzas Brings their Tavern Style to Lakeview
The suburbs have entered the chat — and Chicago’s pizza scene might just be better for it. WG Pizzas, the city cousin of North Shore’s mainstay Alex’s Washington Gardens, has opened its first Chicago location — bringing its tavern-style pizza to a city that takes its pies seriously.
Tavern-style pizza is known for a thin, cracker-like crust and its signature square-cut slices. Born in neighborhood bars and taverns, this pizza is meant for sharing and it is inherently relaxed: easy to hold with one hand, drink in the other.
Siblings Ben and Jessie Glazer, along with husband-and-wife duo Michael and Franny Kaulentis have taken over a cozy corner in Lakeview, turning what started as a ghost kitchen test run in Avondale, into a full-fledged restaurant.
“The pizza is good enough for the city,” said Ben Glazer. So, they wanted to share. And so far, the response has been better than the siblings expected.
Jessie, who’s most often at the restaurant, says that the neighborhood has received them well, and that she is excited to see the same faces again and again.
And it’s no wonder. This is the kind of slice that is crispy throughout. No soggy center. The ingredients hold up their end, too: high-quality, locally sourced toppings that don’t skimp, and a fresh sauce that leans sweet. We ordered one chopped salad with anything from pepperoni to mozzarella and garbanzo beans — thoughtfully dressed and generous enough for two.
Don’t skip the breadsticks. They are buttery, crispy, warm, and begging to be pulled apart— I had to summon every ounce of self-control not to inhale the whole batch.
These breadsticks are buttery, crispy, warm and impossible to share. The restaurant’s Guest Chef Pizza Series adds an unexpected twist, inviting local culinary voices to collaborate on monthly specials. Past highlights include a black truffle and mushroom pie from Kimski’s chef Won Kim, a bold quesabirria pizza by Frontera Grill’s Jauvaneeka Jacobs, and a Steak + Ale pizza created with Links Tap Room. These specials are also featured at the Highwood location so nobody misses out.
This month, Chef Iván Valdez (Taquizas Valdez) offers a July special: an al pastor pizza layered with pork al pastor, garlic cream sauce, a pineapple-habanero relish, mozzarella, and cilantro. A spicy salsa roja served on the side seals the deal — I’ve already gone back for seconds.
WG’s guest chef series gets wild this month with an al pastor pizza from Chef Iván Valdez. Pineapple on pizza is still taboo for some — it used to be for me, too — until a meal at Crosta in Milan changed my mind. Their version, smoky pork shoulder tangled with sweet pineapple, spicy sauce and fresh cilantro, made the case for breaking the rules. WG’s take may ruffle a few purist feathers, but it’s hard to argue with flavor that good.
There are more than a dozen pizzas on the menu, alongside rotating specials, salads and desserts. And seriously — don’t skip the breadsticks.
Ben’s go-to is the Italian sausage pizza. Jessie’s favorite? The Pizza A La Vodka — a creation from Chef Max Robbins of Lettuce Entertain You, made with vodka sauce, Calabrian chiles, basil, smoked mozzarella and Parmesan.
You can build your own, too.
Lately, there’s been a trend of city chefs bringing their big-city polish to suburban downtowns. WG flips the script — and proves the suburbs can return the favor.
WG Pizzas is BYOB and closed on Tuesdays. Take out is available on popular apps.
⚲ 2819 N Southport Ave, Chicago, IL 60657
Chef Cristian Orozco and the Revival of Suburban Dining
At Five O Four in Glen Ellyn, Chef Cristian Orozco Is Turning a Suburban Kitchen Into a Quiet Force
When talking about the dining scene in Chicago, it’s easy to overlook the suburbs. But that’s exactly where some of the most thoughtful, quietly ambitious kitchens are taking shape today. Chef Cristian Orozco is living proof that excellence doesn’t always demand a downtown address. Sometimes, it’s tucked behind a construction zone. Sometimes, it’s quietly cooking just west of the skyline.
Orozco was born just 10 minutes from the Guatemalan border with Chiapas, in a place where flavors, histories and borders blur. That in-between space — culturally, geographically — is still where he cooks from.
When he first arrived in the United States, kitchens weren’t about dreams — they were about survival. He washed dishes, bussed tables, prepped vegetables.
A job at a country club in Wisconsin gave him his first structured restaurant experience. By the time he became a sous chef, something had shifted. Cooking wasn’t just a job. It was a calling.
That calling led him to Chicago — and to Acadia, a now-shuttered fine-dining heavyweight. For Orozco, it was a crash course in precision, pressure and ingredients. He was given a shot because, when asked when he could start, he pulled out his kitchen tools on the spot. This is also where he first heard the phrase “Michelin star.” He didn’t know exactly what it meant — but he knew it was where he wanted to go.
From Acadia, he moved to Tzuco, under Carlos Gaytán, where he reconnected with his Latin American roots and sharpened his technique. Then came North Pond, where storytelling and sourcing local weren’t mere trends — they were gospel.
After a well-received pop-up at Frida Room, fate brought him to Glen Ellyn’s Five O Four. He arrived as a consultant. He stayed. As an owner.
It wasn’t perfect. The menu had more than 100 items. Months of roadwork had left the entrance nearly inaccessible. Most people would’ve bailed. Orozco doubled down.
His solution? Cut the noise. He whittled the menu down to 25 sharply tuned dishes — bold, seasonal, Latin at the core, with French touches, Asian flourishes, and a Mexican soul.
Like a young singer whose voice aches with emotion he hasn’t lived through yet, Orozco’s cooking does not belong to someone barely in his 30s.
You taste it in the acid of his housemade giardiniera, inspired by Guatemalan curing methods, served alongside the wagyu beef tartare with chipotle mayo and avocado.
You see it in the edible flowers that he grows in his own patio and the nasturtium delicately placed atop the most perfect tetela —placed with the same precision as a brushstroke. It’s not garnish. It’s a quiet act of beauty.
The tetelas themselves — two triangle-shaped corn masa delicacies — are filled with Oaxacan cheese, seasonal mushrooms, avocado mousse, sour cream, and a creamy pinto bean purée.
Every dish reflects Orozco’s flair for presentation: smoke swirls around some, while others arrive chilled by liquid nitrogen. There’s undeniable drama at play — but it’s never empty and it always enhances the experience.
And for Orozco, food is only half the story. The rest is people.
His mission is to build leaders — especially from the same communities he came from.
Five O Four isn’t just a restaurant. It’s an opportunity — for him, for his team, and for a suburban dining scene learning to stand on its own. Orozco is helping it find its voice.
And it speaks with a kind of quiet grace that doesn’t ask for permission.
It’s not loud.
But much like his food, it holds great promise.
504 Crescent Blvd, Glen Ellyn, IL 60137
Taquería Chingón Has a New Home in Fulton Market
Taquería Chingón´s chef Marcos Ascencio Something old, something new, and something good is happening in Fulton Market.
Taquería Chingón has a new home. After shuttering their Bucktown location in 2024, they’ve taken over the former home of Cemitas Puebla at 817 W. Fulton Market, and if that name rings a bell, it should.
In a gesture equal parts homage and culinary flex, Chingón has added cemitas to its taco menu. For the uninitiated, a cemita isn’t just a sandwich. It’s Puebla on a bun — a sesame-crusted roll, usually stuffed with pulled meat, stacked high with avocado, smoky chipotle, cheese and a wild tangle of the earthy, fragrant papalo (if you’re lucky). It’s crunchy, creamy, spicy. Chingón.
The eatery’s take comes with a chicken milanesa (a breaded and fried chicken cutlet). The homage to Puebla doesn’t end there. The menu features a taco árabe made with lamb and served on a flour tortilla, a nod to Puebla’s Lebanese culinary influence.
Other highlights include an assortment of tortas, such as a steak torta and a torta ahogada — a dish that’s been showing up on more Chicago menus lately. Chingón’s version adds a twist: melted raclette.
The new space is spacious, bright and built to feed a city. A massive kitchen anchors the restaurant, giving the team room to push boundaries and — importantly — cater. And with a kitchen like that, it’s not hard to imagine them feeding everything from art parties to tech launch lunches.
Taquería Chingón still keeps its soul intact, but there’s a certain swagger to this next chapter — like they know they’ve earned the right to stretch their legs.
We were there on opening day, the line was out the door, and the message was clear: Chingón’s not just back — they’re just getting started.
From Little Village to River East: La Catedral Café Brings Heart to the High-Rises
At an age when most people are still figuring out the line between ambition and hustle, Chef Ambrocio Gonzalez was quietly building an empire.
Now, not even 40, he’s opening his fourth La Catedral Café in River East.
I’ve followed Gonzalez’s career for years — from before the original La Catedral in Little Village became a line-out-the-door mainstay, to his expansion across the city. It was never just about feeding people. Ambrocio wove himself into the fabric of the neighborhood, earning every inch of trust and respect along the way.
But what truly sets him apart is how he does everything. From designing the menu to selecting the art on the walls, Ambrocio leaves no detail untouched. He doesn’t hire decorators. The tiles, the ornaments, the plates — they come from Mexico, just like him.
He now brings that same heart to River East — a neighborhood more known for polished lobbies and corporate cafés. This isn’t where you’d expect a place like La Catedral to land. And that’s exactly the point. Ambrocio is pushing beyond the expected, giving River East something it didn’t know it needed.
Here, breakfast remains the headliner. His acclaimed chilaquiles made the trip from Little Village, as did the enfrijoladas— tortillas smothered in a rich bean sauce, topped with sour cream and salsa. I always add chicken to mine. Alongside the chilaquiles enfrijoladas are of my favorite breakfast dishes, and not an easy one to find on menus across the city.
The space, like the food, bring a sense of space and memory. In Little Village, the walls are filled with gifts from customers — religious icons, milagros, paintings to go with the restaurant’s name and church-like vibe. In River East, the art is also co-curated and personal, as most of those cherished pieces have made the journey here, carrying memory and meaning into this next chapter.
Ambrocio is more than a chef. He’s a keeper of culture. A man who knows that the power of place isn’t only in its polish, but in its purpose.
La Catedral Café, 400 E. Randolph St. Opens May 15.
Why We Keep Going Back to Sfera
Sfera is a Dolce Gabbana daydream Walking into Sfera feels like stepping into a Dolce & Gabbana ad—rich tile, yellows, blues, and greens. Lemons, oranges and Moor’s heads lining the shelves (two large heads used to be at the counter making the entrance more dramatic, but they seem to have been relocated). Sunlight pouring through the windows.
The first time I went, I thought, someone really cares here. Not in the curated-for-Instagram way, but in the flavor-first kind of way.
Everything is made fresh. The focaccia is baked in-house. The soups are flavorful and clearly made from scratch.
The offerings are focused, but intentional. There’s the sfincione, a thick-cut Sicilian-style pizza with a golden cheese crust. And the arancini—crisp-fried risotto balls—filled with anything from meat to mushrooms, always with a dipping sauce on the side.
The sandwiches are honest but elegant. The artichoke tapenade, with a house-made citrusy spread, roasted red pepper and arugula, is one of my favorites. So is the slow-roasted chicken, layered with red pepper–almond relish and basil pesto, served on that same focaccia.
The artichoke tapenade sandwich at Sfera. I brought this one home where I plated it. If you’re a meat lover, go for the mortadella and capicola, but I’d ask for the giardiniera on the side. You’ll want control over that kind of flavor punch.
But the thing that knocks me out EVERY time is the Sicilian hot chocolate. Spiced with citrus and made with their house-made syrup, it’s topped with three pillowy marshmallows that melt slowly as you sip. Decadent? Yes—but not over the top and not too sweet. I know this is technically a winter drink, but honestly? This gives me a reason to no longer mind if it’s snowing in April.
Desserts here aren’t an afterthought. There’s a cherry-pistachio cupcake filled with sweet ricotta and a candied Door County cherry, topped with crushed pistachios, and rose petals. It’s as beautiful as it is delicious. And you will have a hard time finding better cannoli in Chicago.
The menu features vegan and gluten-free options, too—and none of them feel like a compromise.
The hospitality is remarkable. We love that dogs are welcome well beyond the patio, which is always such a relief when your family includes four-legged members. Our favorite pup never leaves without a treat.
Sfera also caters and ships—yes, they’ll send a little of this joy across the country.
It’s rare to find a place that does both: beauty and heart, but Sfera pulls it off.
And every time we go, we all leave happy.
That craft carried him beyond restaurants as well, to stages like the White House and the U.S. Capitol, where he cooked for 1,000 guests.
