The golden child

Standing at the sink in Quartino's women's restroom, I wash my hands with Boraxo, the old-school powdered hand cleanser preferred by those who typically lift heavier things than forks for a living. A woman in her fifties hands me a paper towel, inquiring if I need a mint or a squirt of Aqua Net, and it's the first time all night I'm reminded that I'm in a Gibsons property.

The company's flagship, Gibsons Steakhouse, is known for steaks as fat as diners' wallets, classic martinis and throwback traditions such as bathroom attendants. And together with its next-door sibling, Hugo's Frog Bar, they are undoubtedly the rock of what's known as the Gold Coast's Viagra Triangle. So, while I give a respectful nod to their iconic status as a visiting-celebrity stop and pro-athlete haunt, the restaurants aren't exactly sought out by the young and food-obsessed.

Enter Quartino. Its chef, John Coletta (whose best work was at Wyndham Chicago Hotel's Caliterra), knows Italian food. And he gets what's happening in Chicago's dining scene: share plates, tons of options, simple flavors, time-tested staples like cured sausages, and affordable wines in tasting-friendly formats. Quartino has all of that.

For starters, Coletta makes his own salumi, cured Italian sausages like beef bresaola, spicy soppressata, classic pork salametti and duck prosciutto. Somehow the kitchen (legally, Coletta reports) got around health codes that put the kibosh on sausage making at spots like Avec, and as long as the sausages remain this good, we're not about to blow the whistle. Best of all, the salumi are served with quick-pickled cucumber, house-made giardiniera and mostarda, a classic mustard seed–flecked fruit condiment.

Another signature is the pizza, a creation that's seemingly hard to get right around town. But Quartino's dough is nice and salted, the crust is thin but with a bubbled edge, and the tomatoes are bright and ripe with no tinny flavor. (The fresh mozz and basil on the Margherita make it the one to order.)

Of the rest of the menu, the polenta fries are stoner-rific, but could be better if the roasted red-pepper sauce were warm rather than cold. Roasted baby octopus is amazingly tender, matched up with punchy chili-flecked escarole. The "pan-fried dumpling" served with spicy broccoli rabe is actually a disk of savory quanciale (cured pig jowl) bread pudding. Sounds strange, but it's incredibly good, if a touch dry. Braised pork–filled ravioli topped with crispy speck (Italian bacon) and al dente fava beans is equally as stand-out as the thick, olive oil–drizzled, grappa-cured salmon. The only "don't" seems to be the veal skirt steak, which tastes unmistakably gas-fired.

The menu encourages jumping around, and the all-Italian carafe list further echoes the idea, with plenty of range in style and size. One look at the global list's prices, and you may just believe this spot's motto: "Quartino: Where wine is cheaper than water."

Quartino
626 N State St at Ontario St (312-698-5000). El: Red to Grand. Bus: 22 (24 hrs), 36, 65. Open: Dinner. Average small plate: $5.