Review: A restaurant rebellion ignites in Avondale at Warlord, where you never know what you’re going to get
A fire rages in Warlord’s kitchen. This is only partly a metaphor.
While three determined chefs bustle about the Avondale restaurant, a literal wood-fueled inferno blazes in the corner of the open kitchen. Flames leap off the wood, licking the sides of the hearth. All the while, heat pumps into the kitchen, drenching the chefs in sweat.
Trevor Fleming, Emily Kraszyk and John Lupton don’t seem to mind. The three Chicago restaurant veterans first met at Table Fifty-Two, the now-closed Art Smith project, before spending years in kitchens like Rootstock, Farmhouse and Kasama. All the while, they plotted to open a restaurant together.
“We wanted something that was ours,” Fleming said. “We wanted the creative route. Instead of going to a big place where you have to follow all the systems, we wanted to open a small place where we could do what we wanted.”
Just as important was what they didn’t want, which is why Warlord might as well be called Enigma. No news release was released before opening. No reservations are taken. Doors are only open from Friday to Monday. The chefs’ names aren’t even listed on the website, though you can find a black-and-white group photo that captures the three deep in mid-meal concentration, like a ’70s punk band caught live on stage.
It gets more mystifying. Care to peruse the menu before visiting? Good luck with that. You won’t find it on the website, or on Warlord’s social media accounts. You could consult a menu uploaded weeks ago to Yelp, but know the chefs like to change it daily. In fact, sometimes they don’t even know exactly what will go on the menu minutes before service. “That’s the exciting part,” Lupton said. “The restaurant is a living thing. Everything evolves constantly. You never really know what it will be.”
It’s not like Warlord goes full free jazz every night, improvising the dishes top to bottom. There are categories. In general, you’ll find a few starters, a pasta dish, both a raw and a cooked fish, plus a large red meat offering. As for specifics, your guess is as good as mine.
This makes discussing dishes for this review almost futile. I went on a Friday, and by the time a Tribune photographer arrived to take photos Monday, at least half the dishes were different. I tried a phenomenal monkfish chop (paired with a delightful hollandaise and bright green asparagus); Warlord was instead serving a 12-day-aged swordfish three days later. I’m sure it was lovely, but all I know for certain is that even the swordfish won’t be available by the time this review publishes.
The chefs claim they aren’t purposefully trying to alienate diners. Instead, flexibility is required, because the majority of the vegetables and meat are local, and they are dependent on the farmers. (While the fish obviously isn’t local, the crew works with a distributor who brings in seafood based on the season.) Some dishes even change by the second. When asked what cut of pork was used for one dish, Lupton said he wasn’t sure.
“We get a quarter of a pig,” Lupton said. “When an order comes, it’s luck of the draw what piece you get. Three people from the same table could get three different pieces. They are all delicious but different.”
This is not standard restaurant practice. Usually, dining is all about creating consistent experiences for the customer. But often Warlord feels like an intentional revolt against the supposed wisdom of the current dining scene. Hate QR codes and additional service fees? You won’t find any of that here. You might have to wait in line or miss a dish you saw posted on Instagram because it’s no longer available, but that’s just part of the deal.
I already lost my favorite dish, which paired the aforementioned pork with beets and a dark red beet sauce the color of blood. Confrontational and striking, it looked more like a minimalist art piece than dinner. But the earthiness and sweetness of the beets played off the exceptionally juicy pink-hued pork, which had picked up smoky notes from the wood-fired grill.
Nearly every dish has been stripped of ornamentation, allowing the chefs to drill down to its essence. “Less is more,” Fleming said. “The best thing to do is pay homage to a quality ingredient. This has become our style.”
So it’s a bit surprising that with all this evolution of dishes, one constant is a burger. Of course, it’s a great one, made with extra-savory, dry-aged beef that’s full of fascinating mineral notes. It’s paired with sweet, charred onion and a luxuriously soft bun that compresses with the slightest touch. At the moment, it’s only $16, an absolute steal.
“We always knew we wanted to have a burger,” Lupton said. “We didn’t want to exclude anyone. We also provide a higher-end experience, but you can come for a burger and a beer and hang out. That’s what we thought about.”
The menu prices are surprisingly moderate, with all but one under $31. (At least, this was true on my last visit.) Sure, a 10-ounce, dry-aged rib-eye goes for $60, but considering the prices that steak goes for downtown, that’s entirely reasonable.
“We talk about menu prices all the time,” Fleming said. “We see what people are charging. But we know what our food prices are. I want to cook for artists who appreciate what we are doing.” And this just isn’t plastic-wrapped meat they get from a supplier and immediately serve. Most of the meat and seafood come in large hunks, which are then placed in Warlord’s striking dry-aging fridge, located behind the host stand.
Thanks to Augustus Federici, Warlord also happens to be a great bar. Federici, who runs the beverage side of things, works with local produce, crafting syrups and other components to create a cocktail menu that, you guessed it, constantly changes. But the staff also knows how to make a classic. When I asked for the bartender’s favorite version of a martini, I was served a stunningly clean and incisive drink.
Dessert is limited to one option each night. While I enjoyed the solid flourless chocolate cake on one visit, a bowl of fresh strawberries with cream was so good the next time, I scraped the bowl clean.
I’m not the only one onto Warlord. Numerous rave reviews have gone up. For my second visit, I waited in a line 30 people deep before the restaurant opened. The excitement is palpable, if only because it still feels like the beginning. “The further we get into working in the space, the more we’ll be able to evolve,” Kraszyk said. “It’s very different from every other kitchen I’ve been in, which is a great thing.”
I truly hope that’s the case, because I’d love to see what the chefs do with vegetables. Early menus leaned heavily on meat, which all the chefs said would change. “We do love vegetables,” Kraszyk said. “Especially now that farmers have more, you’ll see loads of vegetable dishes.”
The chefs also hope to preserve items for next winter. “When we opened up, we didn’t have a larder to pull from,” Fleming said. “Part of our process now is being proactive and looking forward to the offseason.”
No doubt, some will find Warlord’s eccentricities deeply frustrating. That’s OK. Since the pandemic, too many new places have tried to be everything to everyone. Instead, Warlord offers something seriously specific: a constantly evolving menu of local items cooked with fire at fair prices. By refusing to apologize for it, Warlord acts as a middle finger to the idea that Chicagoans crave more conformity and comfort above all else.
nkindelsperger@chicagotribune.com
Warlord
3198 N. Milwaukee Ave.
Tribune rating: Excellent, three stars
Open: Friday to Monday. Kitchen is open 6 p.m. to 1 a.m.; bar is open 6 p.m. to 2 a.m.
Prices: Starters, $7-$19; mains, $16-$60
Noise: Boisterous but not overbearing
Accessibility: Wheelchair accessible, ramp available for bathroom
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.
