Jen Boyles, NBC5 Street Team (Video)
“Volare” is the Latin and Italian word for the verb “to fly.”
After visiting this Italian restaurant more than five times since moving to Chicago in July, all I can say about that is grab your parachute. Unassumingly situated on the corner of Grand and 2nd (circa ’97), it’s most definitely a first-class trip to heaven. Old-world Italy on a plate.
Let me begin with an admission: I’m an intensely, illogically picky eater, but please don’t let that sway you from reading on. I have a slight phobia of trying new foods (especially sauces), but last Saturday night when my friend Joy and I visited Volare yet again, I decided to broaden my palatte officially. Perhaps I’m becoming cured of this longstanding reservation?
Speaking of, any hungry soul who enters this place past 7 p.m. on any day of the week or weekend better have one — that is, their name on the list with the host or hostess, who have been known to seat patrons well past the agreed-upon time. But once you’re settled in after having a few drinks at the crowded, well-stocked bar, (I recommend the Effin cosmopolitan) strap on the goggles — you’re nearing the jump-off.
Many of the waiters and chefs at Volare came to Chicago from Italy or are of Italian decent. Stumbling over a maze of them to get to the lovely yellow bathroom across from the open-window kitchen, I tripped over a waiter making a beeline for the dining room. “I’m sorry, Bella!” he said robustly as he walked on (I kind of liked that). On my way back to the table, I met managers Simone Bergonzoni and Marco Micheli, who are usually found any given day at Volare chatting up diners and keeping the chaos to a minimum.
“I’m going to choose for you both tonight, is that alright?” Bergonzoni said in slightly broken English, with a big smile that made me more willing to trust his selections. We told him what dishes we were leaning toward, and four (I think four) cosmos later, he brought out an outstanding array of large and small plates and two bottles of red wine.
IMAGES: Click here to see what we thought of each dish.
When it was time for dessert (we’d already made up our mind before entering the restaurant — the passion fruit chocolate torte is “to die”), Bergonzoni came to the table with menus and said, “no one can ever choose a lady’s dessert.” So true — and respectable.
In summary, the pasta is firm but tender. The sauce is horizon-expanding (ha). The atmosphere is rustic and sometimes loud, and service needs some fine-tuning — but it’s as to be expected for one of those restaurants people always refer to as “one of the city’s best kept secrets”. You’ll most certainly not be disappointed in what really matters most — the heavenly victuals Volare has perfected beautifully.
http://www.volarerestaurant.com/aboutus.html
(In the effort of full disclosure, my friend and I have paid for four of five meals at Volare. One meal was comped for purpose of this review. )
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