Few chefs can consider themselves lucky to be kicked out of their own restaurant, but when a partnership dispute at the end of 1999 forced Tony Mantuano out of the restaurant that bore his name, the timing couldn’t have been more fortuitous.
Paul Bartolotta, who had painstakingly raised Spiaggia to the four-star level (the only four-star Italian in Chicago), was about to announce his departure to pursue a new venture. Levy Restaurants president Larry Levy wasted little time in bringing Mantuano, Spiaggia’s original executive chef, back on board.
Succeeding a four-star chef is a difficult prospect, but Mantuano has done so with apparent ease. Since officially taking the reins in July, Mantuano has demonstrated skill, patience and a noticeable lack of ego.
His smartest decisions probably have been the moves he declined to make. With virtually all of Bartolotta’s kitchen staff still on board, Mantuano made few personnel adjustments, apart from installing longtime associate Beth Partridge (who has been with Mantuano since his Tuttaposto days) as chef di cucina. Menu changes have occurred at a glacial pace; several Bartolotta signatures remain on the current menu, and the dessert selection hasn’t changed at all.
His few changes have been subtle. The bread has been improved; servers now offer patrons an assortment of four excellent styles. And Mantuano has been aggressively introducing new products, such as Piemontese beef and — excuse me? — lamb from the distinctly non-Italian region of Colorado. “I think American lamb is the best you can eat,” says Mantuano, unapologetically.
But if Mantuano has not yet made Spiaggia completely his own, perhaps that’s because he isn’t interested in making wholesale changes merely for sake of making them. Which demonstrates, I think, that Mantuano, a quality-obsessed craftsman who shares Bartolotta’s passion for pure Italian cooking, was the perfect choice to take over Spiaggia’s kitchen.
Certainly the food is as good as ever. Outstanding starters include the pancetta-wrapped rabbit loin, four upright packages arrayed about the plate with crisply sauteed artichoke hearts and drizzles of aged balsamic vinegar. A carpaccio of melt-in-your-mouth smoked Sicilian swordfish is anointed with a high-quality Ravida olive oil and served with baby arugula and miniature tomatoes, which contribute tiny bursts of sweet flavor.
Sardines show up on the menu as an occasional special, laid over sliced fingerling potatoes and a traditional salsa verde, a coarse olive-oil sauce with chopped eggs, herbs and anchovy. Anchovies take a more prominent role in a salad of fresh mozzarella with puntarelle (an Italian vegetable with a celery-like texture) and delicately flavored white anchovies, with a quenelle of olive puree and dashes of Tuscan olive oil on the plate.
Pastas include incredible potato gnocchi with wild mushrooms; the mushrooms are there, I believe, to prevent the gnocchi from floating away. At the other end of the spectrum are tacconi (heel of the shoe) pasta, sturdy Lucchesi-style pasta squares that match well to a braised oxtail sauce. (A few years ago I had this dish in Lucca itself, in a marvelous restaurant called La Mora; there the pasta was matched to braised rabbit.)
Pheasant-filled ravioli topped with Umbrian black truffles is a rich indulgence; even more so is the creamy pumpkin risotto, scented with thyme, topped with silky pieces of foie gras and sauced with a marsala glaze.
Entrees include outstanding lamb chops, presented with roasted garlic, pureed potatoes and slow-cooked lamb shoulder meat; the delicate chops and grainy shoulder meat provide interesting textural contrast.
Other worthy main courses include grilled squab, over black lentils flavored with guanciale and bits of foie gras; crispy-skinned suckling pig with quenelles of white polenta; and roasted sea bass with potatoes, olives and fennel.
For the indecisive, there is a chef’s tasting option, a feature Mantuano introduced to Spiaggia. Waiters are so low-key about this option that it’s easy to overlook it, but it’s worth considering, especially for entrees such as veal loin wrapped in Savoy cabbage, served alongside creamy polenta.
Late last year Spiaggia offered a white-truffle menu, which was an eye-popping $195 when served with matching wines (prices for Italian white truffles went from the comically astro-nomic to the certifiably insane in late 2000). The menu is no longer available, but memories of Mantuano’s white-truffle-laced porcini risotto and truffle-sauced black sea bass will sustain me through countless lesser meals.
There are no wrong choices on the dessert menu, which is executed by Lupe Tiscareno. My favorite for years has been the baba all’arancia, a sweet cake soaked in orange liqueur and served with orange cream, but it’s difficult to resist the bittersweet Valrhona chocolate tart, served warm with toasted-almond sauce, or the dome-shaped semifreddo of bittersweet chocolate and hazelnut gelato. Even the simplest sweets — apple crepes with cinnamon gelato, or warmed strawberries with vin santo zabaglione — excel.
Or you can opt for cheese; Spiaggia offers five varieties daily, Italian imports all. They’re available individually or as a complete assortment, served with a fistful of champagne grapes and excellent toasted raisin bread.
Perusing Spiaggia’s exhaustive wine list would occupy a wine-lover for a day, if not longer. For diners there is a simpler option, which is to trust the infallible Henry Bishop, sommelier and treasured resource, for a bottle recommendation or a series of wines paired to each course. It’s worth reading the reserve list just to enjoy Bishop’s literate and entertaining descriptions.
Service is absolutely the best I’ve experienced in my many visits here — precise, professional, nearly unobtrusive when tending to basic chores but extremely personable when interacting with customers.
The dining room, still drop-dead gorgeous after an extensive makeover in 1999, provides just the sort of setting you’d want for dining this refined — white tablecloths, adorable oil lamps, rich fabrics and striking contemporary Italian chandeliers. The dining room is tiered, so nearly every table looks out past the massive bank of windows to Michigan Avenue and the lake beyond. If anything, the view is even prettier at lunch, when more of the lake is visible. Spiaggia is the only four-star restaurant in town with regular lunch service, though currently it’s available only Fridays and Saturdays; the three-course prix-fixe option, $35, is a relative bargain.
Spiaggia
(star)(star)(star)(star)
980 N. Michigan Ave.
312-280-2750
Open: Dinner Mon.-Sun., lunch Fri.-Sat.
Entree prices: $29-$38
Credit cards: A, DC, DS, M, V
Reservations: Strongly recommended
Noise: Conversation-friendly
Other: Jackets required; no smoking in dining room; wheelchair accessible
Reviews are based on no fewer than two visits. The reviewer makes every effort to remain anonymous. Meals are paid for by the Tribune.
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Get a taste of Phil Vettel’s restaurant reviews weekly on both WGN-TV and CLTV.
