Can Souk ascend Chicago's Middle Eastern food pyramid?
Is gourmet Middle Eastern cuisine an oxymoron in Chicago? When someone says, "Let's go get Middle Eastern," I don't think about getting dressed up. Middle Eastern in Chicago is the hummous that every coffeehouse seems to have as a staple on its menu; it's falafel at a little short-order grill or the jumbo gyros with onions and extra sauce that I have learned to regret eating two hours later. At its fanciest to date in this town, Middle Eastern has been the abundant Persian dishes served by suave waiters at Reza's.
So I was intrigued to hear about the opening of Souk, billed as "Egyptian-style cuisine for an upscale fine dining experience." Now I've been to Egypt, and I did my share of sampling the fruits of the people's kitchens. No safe away-from-home Big Macs from me. No, I wanted to eat what the Pharaohs ate. I left the Valley of the Nile convinced that Ramses would have felt completely at home in a seat at my local corner pita place. It may have been my budget tour, but the food was nothing to send postcards home about. Souk was opened in mid-March by Maher Chebaro, owner of the now-defunct Tribal Grill, and chef Neamet Elsayed, an Egyptian native who came to Chicago via New York City, where he received rave reviews. Clarifying the difference between Egyptian and other Middle Eastern cuisines, Chebaro explains, "It's distinct from Moroccan, which has different spices, but has some similarities to Turkish, Lebanese and Syrian." But as another Souk spokesperson points out, Souk aspires to rise above everyday regional cuisine, to do in Chicago what Rick Bayless has done for Mexican and what Arun Sampanthavivat has done for Thai, and to serve "fresh Middle Eastern cuisine with Egyptian influences reinterpreted with modern presentations amid designer surroundings."
Souk's interior was created to deliver those designer surroundings, while the food is focused on designer tastes. The restaurant is parked on prime Wicker Park real estate, and it strives to uphold the neighborhood standard for funky creativity. Souk's blue-and-eggplant facade is crowned by four yellow stanchions that rise above three floor-to-ceiling windows like two pairs of bulls' horns. To complete the herd animal motif, the front door is covered with brown, white and black patterned horse hair.
Inside, a loft-like space with twenty-foot ceilings is illuminated by soft lighting in wall hutches and Moorish-influenced patterned fabrics that blend with curvy, blackened steel furniture. The kitchen is open to the restaurant, and limited seating is available around the bread ovens. Known as saj, Souk's thin flat breads are the size of a medium pizza and are baked on dome-shaped griddles and then served warm, wrapped in a napkin as a complimentary starter to be dipped in olive oil and kebsa, a traditional Bedouin spice blend of toasted coriander, cinnamon, lime and cardamom seed. Music is eclectic and loud‹and it gets louder as the evening progresses.
Entrées are several giant steps above my storefront's, where creativity is defined as rolling the napkin around the pita tight enough to prevent messy drips. Appetizers and mezze, or small plates, range from a simple zeytoun (an assortment of olives) and gibna domiati (Egyptian white cheese) to crab meat mombar (spicy crab meat sausage on a bed of Lebanese saffron couscous and mixed nuts), tamyia (sautéed Egyptian dumpling stuffed with a puree of chick peas and baby fava beans), and eel bil zebeeb (roasted garlic, sautéed cubes of eel, roasted corn and raisins wrapped in an "apricot skin" and centered on a plate latticed with strips of black Egyptian honey and tahini). I don't believe I've ever noticed any eel on the menu hanging above the cash register at my corner grill.
Entrées continue Souk's exploration of the mysteries of the Nile. More Egyptian black honey marinates free-range quail stuffed with a grain and dried-fruit combination called firik in a dish called semman bil firik. Apricot-braised lamb shanks, mozza danni, are served with bread pudding and basmati rice sautéed with garlic and vinegar. Fish and seafood, reflecting the influences of Alexandria and the Mediterranean coast, are served in abundance in dishes like bran-crusted whole striped bass stuffed with crab meat, figs and pistachio to make samak mashwi. Instead of souvlaki, there are skewered cubes of grilled rib-eye; chicken shawarma is replaced by coriander-crusted cornish hen.
Noticeably absent on the menu is fuul (pronounced and sometimes spelled "fool"), a rather unappetizing mixture of boiled fava beans, oil and lemon that my Nile cruising companion Eric ordered because he thought it was just "fowl" misspelled. Fuul is a staple of the common Egyptian. But no surprise this very ordinary dish is missing when Souk focuses on re-creating and updating the culinary treasures of King Tut.
by A. LaBan
Souk, 1552 North Milwaukee, (773)227-9110 is open daily for dinner and Sundays for brunch. Entrées are $15-$22. A five-course prix fixe dinner is available for $35. Most credit cards are accepted.
copyright 1998 New City Communications, Inc.