Review: Peanut Park Trattoria traces the heart of Little Italy in Chicago
Peanut Park Trattoria has nothing to do with peanuts and everything to do with Chicago history.
“When I rented a shoddy, dumpy garden apartment from a gentleman on Loomis Street, he was trying to up the rent on me,” said Dave Bonomi, owner of the Coalfire pizzerias in the city, where smoke lingers in the crust and in the air. “He was like, ‘You know, the park’s right across the street, so the rent’s gonna be a lot.’ I wanted to sound cool, so I was like, ‘Oh, yeah, Arrigo Park.’ And he’s like, ‘Oh, no, no, no, you call it Peanut Park, or someone’s gonna think you’re a tourist.’”
The path within the park, in the heart of Little Italy, traces the shape of a jumbo peanut.
“They started calling it Peanut Park 80 or 100 years ago,” Bonomi said. “Everyone gathers there on beautiful days. It feels like the piazza of the neighborhood. So that stuck with me.”
He just opened the trattoria a block south of the namesake park with executive chef and friend Tony Fiasche of Tempesta Market on Dec. 16.
Fiasche has become best known for ‘nduja. He honed the traditional spreadable spicy pork sausage recipe with his father and business partner Agostino Fiasche. The namesake and chef of Ristorante Agostino brought his family salumi tradition as an immigrant from Calabria in southern Italy.
Collectively the trio owns the new restaurant as the Sauce Bros.“It’s a stupid inside joke,” Bonomi said. “We used to joke around and ask each other, ‘Are you working hard on your sauce?’ Meaning, ‘Are you working on your business?’”
Which is funny, because the dish that bridges history to their modern trattoria has no sauce at all.
The linguine vongole ($21) simply tosses pasta with Manila clams sautéed in garlic and olive oil.
“That food is in my blood,” said Tony Fiasche. “My mother cooks at home what she cooks at Agostino’s.”
His mother, Anna Fiasche, an immigrant from Naples, is chef and owner of their original family restaurant too.
“They’re using dried pasta, and we’re making our own, but it’s made in the exact same style,” said her son.
Except it’s not. Perhaps that’s the reflexive deference to immigrant parents talking. His family’s restaurant has become part of my family’s many celebrations, so I know their food well. They’re currently closed for construction after a fire last year.
Fiasche’s linguine vongole at Peanut Park stands on its own with impeccable handmade pasta that’s beautifully cooked and so loaded with briny sweet clams, it’s as if he’s turned up the volume on the family stereo just a touch.
You will find stunning sauce on his pappardelle ($21), silky housemade ribbons studded with a classic beef and pork Bolognese-style ragù.
“I think the Berkshire country rib with pickled peppers is not something you would see at Agostino’s,” Fiasche said.
On the menu as maiale ($32), “pig” in Italian, the thick-cut boneless pork chop garnished with softened peppers and cipollini onions in a white wine sauce showcases his affinity for bold and acidic flavors.
The bistecca ($69), a massive 24-ounce grilled bone-in rib-eye struck with a thunderbolt of rapini gremolata, rivals not only the city’s best steakhouses, but would turn the head of famous Italian butcher Dario Cecchini.
One dish that won’t turn heads, masquerading as a side dish, happens to be Fiasche’s favorite, and maybe mine too so far. The fagioli ($9) with huge yet tender gigante white beans in a deeply flavorful garlic-tomato pork broth is no side dish. It is a main character.
As is the golden and delicate rosemary-flecked focaccia ($9) served with salsa verde and buffalo ricotta, the latter drizzled with honey from Redwing Farms in Harvard, Illinois.
“There were about 7,000 iterations of focaccia from Tony,” Bonomi said. “I would be at Coalfire and he’d be like ‘Hey, stop by Tempesta.’ And I’m like, ‘Oh, cool.’ I hope to God it’s not more focaccia. I would taste it and be like, ‘Yeah dude, it was perfect 14 iterations ago. Don’t change it!’”
Fiasche said he’s still working on his focaccia recipe every day.
“It’s a living thing,” he said. “It changes as you change buildings, equipment, the ambient temperature. I ordered these beautiful Lloyd Sicilian pans, which are of course on back order, that I’m hoping are going to give us even more of a super crispy bottom and nice tall fluffy tops.”
What’s perhaps the most sure, but subtle sign of Fiasche’s emergence as a formidable chef in his own right comes with his salumi ($22). It’s not just the critically acclaimed mortadella, hot coppa or prosciutto di Parma, or even the seasonal pickled vegetables. It’s the accompanying gnocco fritto.
At Tempesta, the charcuterie and cheese comes served with grilled bread. At Peanut Park, Fiasche is making what’s become the food of the moment in Chicago. The fried airy dough pillows have starred at Apolonia and Adalina. Fiasche makes miniature puffs without fanfare, as just one more component on a palette he’s mastered.
I could happily make a meal of just the puffs, and the feathery chicories salad ($14) dressed with anchovy vinaigrette and toasted breadcrumbs, plus the fungi ($9), a riot of roasted mushrooms tossed with herbed olive oil and lemon.
The fritto misto ($19) ambitiously aims for extra crunch, yet the crust on the mixed seafood and vegetables seems under-seasoned. The same fate befell the crisp fried potatoes ($9), though a garlic-butter dip helped. A panzanella ($14) seemed bland compared to the other outstanding salad on the menu. The rapini ($9) held little hint of the promised garlic and chile.
Fiasche’s mother makes the classic and definitive tiramisu ($10). The dull bombolini ($7) and cannoli ($7), however, disappoint on an otherwise carefully concise menu.
There’s one big thing that’s missing right now by design.
“We’re hanging back on pizza,” Bonomi said. “We had a bit of an incident with the chimney, and we need to repair that. That’s gonna take awhile.”
“We do want to do pizza,” Fiasche said. “We’re just not going to be pizza-focused. I think once we get the chimney going, we can make some really delicious pizzas.”
No doubt. Their pizza will probably be similar to Coalfire, but cooked in the existing gas oven, so not the same, they said.
A rooftop patio, with a kitchen garden, will open when weather permits. They’re also waiting for takeout containers to hold their classic cocktails, including an espresso martini ($13), which has become the bestselling drink on a drinks menu with a surprisingly expansive wine list.
Until then, you can dine in or order food for takeout as I did, due to the surreal, heartbreaking omicron surge.
Normally, we might wait a little bit longer to review a restaurant, usually about a month or so. After my first visit, it was clear that Peanut Park, with the friends and families behind three established businesses, had hit the ground running. Time is of the essence these days; the pandemic has taught us all, we don’t know what’s going to happen next.
“I’m terrified of Taylor Street,” Bonomi said. He still lives in the neighborhood, now with his family, after renting that first garden apartment. “I watched this street be super busy. I saw Three Aces go down, one of my favorite places. And Francesca’s, I ate there a million times. And Davanti Enoteca, half a million times.”
Davanti Enoteca closed due to the pandemic, where Peanut Park now stands. The new dark, sleek exterior looks into the long wood bar in front. There’s a dining room in back with a deconstructed red Vespa art installation hanging over green banquettes.
“I grew up going to Al’s Beef,” he added. “So I’ve seen all the incarnations. And now it’s like slipping away.”
The neighborhood has changed for better and worse since I graduated from St. Ignatius behind Al’s, with empty storefronts, Starbucks and a Kong Dog location (Korean hot dogs, not the dog toys) replacing rooted mom-and-pop shops.
“I don’t know the area nearly as much as Dave,” Fiasche said. “But I just saw the potential.”
He sees potential where others may not. Tempesta previously supplied cruise ships in Asia with salumi pre-pandemic.
“I kind of also wanted to do something to make my parents proud,” he added. “To see if I could build something like they did. That becomes the long-lasting heart of the neighborhood. For people coming from all over to feel like home.”
I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but they’ve already built a foundation I hope will be part of my family’s history through celebrations big, small, and peanut-sized too.
Peanut Park Trattoria
1359 W. Taylor St.
312-929-4188
Open: Tuesday to Thursday, 4-9 p.m.; Friday and Saturday, 4-10 p.m.
Prices: $7 (cannoli) to $69 (bistecca)
Noise: Conversation-friendly
Accessibility: Wheelchair accessible main dining room with restrooms on single level
Tribune rating: 2 ½ stars, very good to excellent
Ratings key: Four stars, outstanding; three stars, excellent; two stars, very good; one star, good; no stars, unsatisfactory. Meals are paid for by the Tribune.
