Review:A10
1462 E. 53rd St. 773-288-1010
Rating: 3 (out of 4) Off to a good start
I have never found a fly in my soup. But, I have had a glass of red wine spilled on a new white dress shirt, found hair in my food and had a plate of ravioli dumped in my lap. And yet, I don't know if I've ever been as annoyed with a restaurant as I was on a recent Sunday night at A10, the newest dining destination from Matthias Merges (formerly of Charlie Trotter's, currently owner at Billy Sunday, Yusho) in Hyde Park.
You don't mess with my Sunday evenings. They are sacrosanct. Sunday is the day where I put the ills of the past week behind me prepare for the week to come. Maybe you go to a movie, watch a ball game or read fifty shades of something on your couch in a threadbare Snuggie, but for me, the great escape is going out to a restaurant for a Sunday dinner. Someone else does the dishes, the wine flows and I get a chance to enjoy a dining room outfitted how I wish my own place would look if I had unlimited cash to blow on designer furniture. And then there is lots of great food cooked by great chefs, unless, of course, there is no dinner.
Brunch: It's what's for dinner
This particular Sunday, I had a hot date. We had coordinated busy schedules and cancelled other plans to hit A10 together. Earlier in the week, we'd both drooled over A10's French and Italian-skewing dinner menu. The restaurant is actually named after the autostrada or A10 highways that cut through France and Italy and is inspired by Merges and his wife, architect Rachel Crowl's, travels through the region. Merges and his chef John Vermiglio (Graham Elliot Bistro, Bravo's "Around the World in 80 Plates") had come up with a spectacular selection.
When we arrived at 7 p.m., we had visions of bucatini carbonara and boudin noir dancing in our heads, but we were given a brunch menu. We assumed it was a mistake. Our server assured us they only serve brunch on Sundays, and that we weren't the only ones who'd complained. We asked if the website mentioned this. It didn't. The people at the table in front of me complained that the brunch dishes were overpriced. It's true that $18 for a fried oyster eggs Benedict felt a little steep, but no one I know in town is making such a soft and fluffy English muffin, poaching eggs so expertly or whipping up as silky a hollandaise. Pumpkin brioche ($6) was dry and tasted like it had been sitting around all day; I'd have preferred a Cinnabon. The people at the table behind me complained too, but that's because they were vegetarians and had a tough time finding anything on the limited brunch menu they liked that didn't have meat. But, as with people, it's not the best moments that define a restaurant. It's what they do in the worst moments that truly inform.
The taming by the crew
Vermiglio came out of the kitchen and offered to cook an eggplant gratin (which was not on the brunch menu) for the vegetarians. Front-of-house manager Malcolm Simkoff took a savage verbal beating from the price complainers, smiled graciously and offered to adjust their bill. Though that pumpkin brioche wasn't great, Simkoff had brought it to our table gratis because there was a problem with another dessert my date and I had ordered. He then heard my tale of disappointment and anticipation of a romantic, relaxing dinner and comped much of our brunch bill. When I spoke with Merges a few days later, I told him I was a little disappointed. "You and everyone else. We got killed," he said. "We wanted to do something a little quicker for Sundays. We're working on it. We'll likely create a card of maybe five extra dishes [to broaden the menu] on Sundays." The A10 team also has since changed the website menu title from "Brunch" to "Sunday Service" to indicate the special menu.
A10 dinner No. 2
I still wanted that dinner menu, so I returned three days later. Just as I was about to be seated, Simkoff recognized me from Sunday's meal and said, "I'm so glad you're giving us another chance. I hope tonight is better." It was. Tender tubes of housemade bucatini ($14) coddled a 60-minute egg (yes, 60 whole minutes-it's cooked at roughly 60 degrees Celsius until the white just sets, leaving a warm velvety yolk) and tiny crisp polygons of guanciale, aka pig jowl bacon, from Benton's in Tennessee. The whole thing was soaked in cream and showered with biting red pepper. Packed with so many comforting carbs, I'm pretty sure I could have convinced a group of chain-smoking, diet-disciplined supermodels to wolf this down.
Though it sounds like a cool French film, boudin noir ($22) is blood sausage. I know that sounds like a dare, but the A10 version, a custard-like pork sausage spiked with sweet spices was a beautiful encased meat slathered with a creamy swoosh of hollandaise. Vermiglio added a nice bit of brightness in the form of a side garnish of pickled squid.
I'm scared by the thought of cauliflower (you would be too if you were fed oversteamed mush smelling of sulfur as a kid), but since I told you to eat blood sausage, it's only fair that I tried A10's cauliflower ($7) on the recommendation of my server. I'm so glad I took the leap. After I finished forking up the charred and caramelized florets studded with sweet and sour pickled raisin, I had to hold myself back from slurping the leftover juices bursting with the licorice-y zip of tarragon and funky pecorino cheese straight from the bowl (I spooned them instead). I also dug the punchy red wine-poached raisin broth drizzled on a plate of medium-rare juicy duck breast ($27).
There were only two dishes I had any minor issue with. To make a dish of wood-fired snails stewed with pearl onions and roasted garlic and topped with biscuits, Merges said he sources live snails from California and purges them of off-flavors by feeding them herbs before cooking. Snails are often rubbery, but this escargot was soft and smoky. That effort paid off, but the whole thing was a little flat and just needed more salt. Olive oil donuts ($8) were hot from the fryer glistening in sugar and a gel of lemon curd. The first bite was life-affirming, but once I got to the center, they were a little too dense. These were minor quibbles, really. It's not like anyone was asking me to eat breakfast for dinner like a few days earlier.
Not your grandpa's Hyde Park
One of the more compelling things about A10 is how lively it was for a restaurant that had only been opened a week and a half. The crowd was as eclectic as any I've seen in any 'hood in Chicago. The folks seated next to me were North Side-dwelling foodies who loved Alinea and wanted to see what the restaurant's former sommelier Richard Richardson--the skinny white general manager rocking the super-afro--was up to. There was a big table of young undergrads celebrating. There were a lot of people on dates rubbing elbows with professorial types and groups of hard-drinking grad students. The place was packed at 10 p.m. on a Wednesday night.
Hippie and haute
The decor matched the crowd. Crowl, who also designed Yusho and Billy Sunday, somehow found a way to merge an elegant downtown vibe with the whiff of a liberal, intellectual cafe. Vintage wooden ladders, reclaimed from a CPS elementary school by Merges and Crowl, have been repurposed as hanging racks for glass and dishware in the bar and the open kitchen. One dining room wall was loaded with bright woven textiles and another with warm blue porcelain tiles, the kind of materials you might find in a cafe in Berkley or Ann Arbor. And yet, the clean lines of those materials were rounded out with elegant touches like sleek, round-back Scandinavian-style stools, bubble-lantern chandeliers and slate-gray painted brick.
Bottom line
Hyde Park has a rich history and has always been a magically diverse, smart and cultured place. It had museums, great bookstores and even a few good restaurants like Medici, La Petite Folie, Ribs & Bibs and Rajun Cajun. But, it hasn't really had an eminent dining spot. A10 fills that void well. And yet, it's not just a place for Hyde Parkers. It's good enough to be a destination for all Chicagoans who love great food.
Reporters visit restaurants unannounced and meals are paid for by RedEye. redeye@tribune.com | @redeyeeatdrink
MORE ON A10 & MATTHIAS MERGES
Rejecting the legacy
Merges father-in-law went to the University of Chicago Divinity School and his own father studied and taught at the University of Chicago. Merges was rebellious and decided to travel and cook instead. He said, "I was the black sheep. My dad once worried I'd end up pumping gas or in jail."
The house wine is fine
House wine is usually a term reserved for cheap plonk, but the Vin de Maison ($10) at A10 is a white wine fortified with vodka that's aged and infused with an assortment of sweet spices. The result is a light, bright quaff that makes you really hungry for dinner to come. Merges said, "There's this history of aging wines with liquor in cellars in France. We didn't know if anyone would like it, but we also wanted to do something that would give A10 its own identity, otherwise everyone would just think we were the restaurant run by those guys from that Billy bar in Logan Square."
Charlie Trotter's right hand
Some people know Merges worked at Trotter's, but many don't know that Merges did two stints, spending 14 years there total as the executive chef and director of operations. I've always been intrigued how Merges was able to endure Trotter's demanding personality so long. He told me, "We had the same aspirations and goals to make the best restaurant possible. He gave me great freedom to achieve that. It's rare to have access to funds and resources like I had to realize your goals. Our teams were so good, much better than any single individual. It's rare to find that. But, our relationship was like a marriage. You have your highs and your lows, but you don't run away during the lows."