Gastropub is the new catchphrase of the moment. It implies a lot – the congenial atmosphere of your neighborhood watering hole, combined with upscale (but not too upscale!) food, and an above average beer collection. Ideally, a place like this has a beer manager, or cicarone, who will guide you through the many, many options of beer out there – like a sommelier, without the snooty attitude, or the sticker shock when your finger wanders from the beer side of the page over to the price list.

These are mighty lofty goals for a neighborhood joint, but does Chicago’s Publican live up to them? To find out, I set out with Elianna and my dad to find out. A pumpkin carved with a pig silhouette greeted us at the door. A good omen. We put our names down, and were lead to the very center of the room to wait.

In the middle of the room are a series of circular, standing room tables. Sandwiched between a couple and a group of culinary students (“get the charcuterie plate!” they advised) we settled in to peruse the beer list. Immediately, the little design touches began to stand out. Know what’s better than hooks for your coats (although it had those too)? Built in cubby holes for a purse or camera bag. Nothing was draped over our chairs, or piled on the floor. Nice.

Scouring the beer list for local options, I settled on an IPA from cult beer maker Three Floyds. Their Dreadnaught IPA is floral and piney on the nose, with a clean balanced bitterness. It’s the aroma that really stands out on this beer. I passed it over to Papa Friedman for evaluation.

“I don’t know how you can drink that!” he cried, after inhaling the heady aroma, passing it back. I tried to explain the Russian River “Lupin Threshold Shift” theory, but it didn’t make much sense to him. He stuck with a safer bottle of Saison DuPont. It’s one of Eli’s favorite, so everyone was quite happy with their brew. I love my glass of alpha acid, and they didn’t have to drink it.

We were also all very happy with our charcuterie plate.

I love a good charcuterie plate. Delivering on the promise made by the paintings of pigs on the wall, this plate was an abundance of riches. The favorites included the celery root salad, duck terrine with cherries and a whole duck breast running through the center, and mince meat pie. No bread? No problem. A plate of still hot crusty bread was promptly delivered. Next to us, our neighbors ordered a ibierco ham plate. I’m told it was delicious.

Our table was ready a few minutes later, and we finished it up our plate at a communal table. I love the thought that goes into some of the details. Such as the cubby holes on the waiting tables – they’re replicated here again, with space to store your things below your seat. Nice touch.

If we weren’t seated at a communal table, the other option was a booth. The booths are custom designed as well, appearing to resemble individual pig pens.

Soon we were joined by our neighbors at who had the ham plate, who gladly offered up to let their food get cold, while i fumbled with my camera, trying to get the angle on another dish.

The whole menu is designed to be shared, so we went through it, ordering with abandon. Know what really gets a diner stared off right? Bone marrow. Lots of it.

This has to be, hands down, the biggest plate of bone marrow I’ve ever seen. Sadly, it wasn’t the best. The toast points were slightly burnt, and the bones were surprisingly mild in flavor. Maybe happy cows do really come from california. No matter, more dishes were quickly delivered.

The smoked trout pushed all of the right buttons. Balanced smoke, with a great cream sauce on top of a perfectly crispy potato pancake. Elianna’s option of the place went up instantly when the smoked fish hit the table. A great, balanced dish.

Next to us, our neighbors food was quickly delivered.

I’m told both dishes were very good. The sardines had an phenomenally strong aroma, so strong I couldn’t smell anything else until the dish had been cleared.

Time for a fresh pint. I perused the menu, and started asking our waiter questions about the beers. He turned me and my obnoxious questions over to their beer manager, Michael. He was a pleasure to talk to, and patiently answered each question (turns out the Dreadnaught IPA is brewed with Cascade and Amarillo). He was quick with the samples, delivering small glasses with a variety of tastes from local breweries. He also informed me that a fresh keg of Alpha King had just been tapped, so I stuck with three floyds, and ordered another.

Next came the squash and burrata dish. Served cold, it needed a touch of salt – besides that, it was delicious.

Our last savory dish was also our favorite. Sweetbreads, served with matsutake mushrooms and pear. The sweetbreads were perfectly cooked – seared with a bit of crust around the edges, with a rich, luscious interior.

Full, we turned our attention to dessert. I had already resolved to break my only “order local stuff i can’t get at home” rule when i spied bourbon barrel Angel’s Share on tap. To pair with it, we ordered the chocolate pudding, topped with cherries and walnut.

The Angel’s Share had an huge barrel aroma, and wasn’t a favorite at the table. I collected the split pours back into one glass, and powered through, hating to see a drop go to waste. That, along side of other dessert beers that Michael slipped onto the table when no one was looking, made for a great end to a delicious meal. The pudding wasn’t anything special, and it was quickly agreed upon that this was a “Chef’s Dessert.” Chef: hire a pastry chef.

So, to Gastropubs live up to the hype? I of course advocate for a world where world class craft beers isn’t restricted to a few restaurants that specialize.  Local food and local beer are a natural pairing, where both benefit from each other. But as long as craft beer is confined to a culinary ghetto for the dedicated few, places like The Publican serve the cause well. Based on the defining roar of the dining room and wait for a table, it looks like this is a ghetto bursting at the seams for more.

Tags: Chicago, Publican

This entry was posted on Tuesday, November 3rd, 2009 at 10:28 am and is filed under Flickr, Reviews. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.