Rose Mary

Rose Mary is a spot I constantly find myself recommending when out-of-towners - or people new to Chicago restaurants - ask where to eat. I have eaten here more times than I can count, and it is nearly the exact same experience every time. The service is reliable, the food is good, and the vibe works - unless you find yourself in the back room. I don't remember ever having a more-than-3 star dinner here, but I am confident I haven't had a less-than-3 star dinner here either.

This experience brought about thoughts about the concept of "your favorite restaurant in [city]." How you answer that question largely depends on the context and the person asking. I often find myself answering "Rose Mary" to that question, and I have always felt a little uncomfortable doing so. Is it my favorite restaurant in Chicago? Surely not. But it's safe to recommend, it is Actually Good, and it avoids having to caveat your answer in the way that Oriole might require. Or the place where you have a unique relationship with the owner might.

Interestingly enough, I find that when people answer that question, they treat it more like a personality test than a recommendation. In some contexts, I am sure that works, but the person asking is typically more curious about "the place you eat at most often that is not just your local jaunt" than they are about "the place that only a few people know is as good as you know it is" or "the place so expensive you have eaten there once but it blew you away." In some contexts, these are the conversations I love, but in most, I am just looking to check as many boxes as possible without an accompanying dissertation. That is Rose Mary.

The above should describe my appreciation of Rose Mary plenty, but I suppose some people may want to read about the food.

I most often order the tuna crudo, the zucchini fritters, the skradin, and the cacio e pepe. We got all four this time, as well, despite forgetting to photograph the cacio e pepe. They are reliably good. The crudo sits in a seemingly rare veal aioli, which is excellent, and it could only be improved by increasing the number of pieces but slicing them thinner - in my extremely humble opinion. The fritters are perfect every time, crispy and soft, and the pesto is ideal. The skradin was not as good this time as in the past, and I worry that Joe is listening to the idiots on the internet who criticize the dishes for being too salty. More salt, not less, Joe, please. The cacio e pepe is what you would expect; I like their use of a marginally wider noodle and making it a little more pepper-forward than butter- or cheese-forward.

The sweet potato was new for me, and it got me thinking about our last meal at Ada Street. The inclusion of sweet potato chips alongside the soft, glazed sweet potato is such a simple but effective inclusion. Without them, I am sure I would have had similar emotions as to the brussel sprouts at Ada Street, good but with a glaze that wears you down in volume over a short period of time. Instead, with every couple of bites of "heavy" sweet potato, you could take a break with the chip and reset the palate. The shrimp was also new, but I don't much remember it either way. We just wanted to make our way to other parts of the menu, and it got us there.

We were celebrating our "anniversary," so there was really only one answer to "do you want to see a dessert menu?" Pistachio, white chocolate, and whipped mascarpone. It can't really be bad.

Anniversary is in quotes because this was where Allison and I ate on our first date, and we will continue to do so on that date for years to come. Obviously, it has a special place in my heart for that reason, so if you feel you need to take that into account, have at it. But I can promise it was good on every non-special occasion I have been there, too.