A Mano elevates Italian classics to new heights

Chances are, if you drink wine seriously and live in Chicago, you've heard of James Beard nominee and wine director Brian Duncan.

And if you regularly dine downtown, you've no doubt come across the names of restaurateur Dan Sachs and chef John Caputo. (For those not in the know, they're the force behind Bin 36, a super-successful wine, cheese and small-plates concept that took the city by storm years back.)

Since then, they've had a hand in numerous spots, including the now-defunct Great Lakes Fish House in Lincolnshire. Now, A Mano has been added to the mix -- and, man, are we glad.

Located below the wine bar and adjacent to Hotel Sax, the spot manages to feel more welcoming than subterranean thanks to a skewed, open floor plan, optional communal table and menu of down-to-earth Italian classics that never once feel ho-hum.

An elevated lounge, complete with comfy wrought-iron seating, is a chill site to imbibe after work. When the weather warms, outside dining will be an option -- under the shade of imported cypress trees, of course.

As for the trattoria-style menu, it's highly seasonal, oft-organic and market-driven. From small, quick bites to full-scale meals and a grab-and-go panini bar, there's a little something for everyone.

The all-Italian wine list includes about 150 selections by the bottle and half-bottle; more than two dozen are available by the glass. Lest we forget, there's a house-made gelato bar as well with about 18 flavors offered at any given time.

After trying to zero in on a reasonable number of dishes, we decided to bypass antipasti such as aged sherry vinegar-marinated wild mushrooms and celery root salad with apples, walnuts and Parmigiano-Reggiano.

Instead, we began with a selection of pesce crudo, the Italian take on sashimi. We were most enamored of the thinly sliced, citrus-y hamachi, but the sweet, grape-topped day boat scallops came in a close second.

Then it was on to salumi, the sliced, cured Italian meats that are becoming ubiquitous on menus these days. Speck (smoky ham) and fat-specked, Tuscan-style salami whetted our whistles for what came next. Still, it was hard to forgo chocolate, cinnamon and ancho-infused mole salami and fennel-accented finocchiona.

The restaurant also dishes up pizzas that are cooked in a wood-burning brick oven. You'll find one topped with still-in-the-shell roasted clams, capers and garlic confit puree and another donning lamb with roasted eggplant and tomatoes. And, in case you haven't noticed, we haven't even made it to the first plates!

If you're so inclined, follow-ups might include house-smoked salmon with mozzarella and aged balsamic vinegar; a minted arugula, fennel and artichoke salad with Meyer lemon vinaigrette; and Cotechino sausage with creamy polenta and herbed oil.

Among the half dozen or so pastas, the unusually sweet-but-memorable braised boar and raisin-topped pappardelle is the sort that could send you back here, bleary-eyed from hunger pangs, the next night. While it might be a bit much as a main course (pastas are available in half and whole portions), the pumpkin ravioli was a mighty sweet treat, the candy-like pockets topped with toasty brown butter, Brussels sprout leaves, black walnuts for crunch and Pecorino Gran Cru for tang.

Although it sounds typical, the fragrant, rosemary-zapped ahi tuna saltimbocca is a deviation from the norm when topped with crisp, salty nuggets of cauliflower. On the other hand, a super-simple, slow-cooked Berkshire pork chop with braised endive and apples arrives sweet, pink-fleshed and heavily marbled, a fact that could be off-putting to those accustomed to the drier, leaner variety.

Beyond that, you'll find a Country Cottage Farms chicken breast with honey-roasted cipollini onions and fregola, a Sardinian cousin of couscous; grilled monkfish with borlotti beans and fennel sausage; and a 16-ounce prime, bone-in strip with aged balsamic vinegar.

If all this munching isn't already enough, sides such as escarole and fava-bean puree (inspired by a dish Caputo's grandmother served), olive oil mashed potatoes and wood-oven-roasted fingerling potatoes threaten to pack on additional pounds.

Of course, we recommend coming on Wednesday nights for the lasagna. Yes, the lasagna. This is no ordinary affair; its richly flavorful sauce sports a blend of pulled meats, introducing an unusual texture to a staid (and generally not-so-interesting) staple.

Among the other hand-made daily specials is braised veal shoulder with Tuscan lentils on Mondays, rotisserie-cooked lamb on Thursdays and bollito misto with mostarda on Saturdays.

Surely the gelato bar will clue you in that dessert wants to be remembered. With unusual incarnations such as silky olive oil (its flavor hits you on the back end) and sweet-like-Jell-O grape, that's sure to be the case. At the same time, potent espresso granita topped with whipped cream is just the shot in the arm you'll need for the ride home.

Service is as approachable as everything else. Our waitress delivered tidbits about the menu without overdoing it and was right on the mark when it came to pours (check out the white pinot).

A few beers and a handful of cocktails, including a limoncello martini with Absolut Citron and the Rosso Sicilian with blood orange juice and Averna, can be found as well.

A Mano

335 N. Dearborn St., Chicago, (312) 629-3500

Cuisine: Italian

Setting: Lower-level dining room with an open kitchen, reclaimed oak floors and exposed brick

Price range: Antipasti and salumi $4 to $22; pesce crudo $8 to $10; pizza $12 to $14; first plates $7 to $13; pasta $7.50 to $20; entrees $17 to $39; dessert $5 to $14

Hours: Lunch 11 a.m. to 2 p.m. Monday through Saturday; dinner 5 to 10 p.m. Sunday through Thursday, 5 p.m. to midnight Friday and Saturday; a light menu is offered in the bar between lunch and dinner

Accepts: Major credit cards