On Love And Latkes

[November 16th, 2005] Every year at the University of Chicago, legal scholars, philosophers, culture critics, literary theorists and even Nobel laureates earnestly but with tongue firmly in cheek debate whether latkes (potato pancakes served at Hanukkah) or hamantashen (triangular pastries served at Purim) are the worthier food. Were Colleen French, the owner of a sweet little eponymous cafe on a booming stretch of East Burnside Street, to participate next year, there would be no question of her allegiance: Her lively restaurant serves latkes throughout the menu. But whereas a Hanukkah latke might accompany a Romanian pot roast, Colleen's Bistro dishes up its version with a Northwestern lamb and pear ragoût ($13) or a vegetarian's Brussels sprouts with a dollop of fig jam on top ($10)—nothing ever witnessed by even the most ecumenical of rabbis.

This gastronomical version of Abbie's Irish Rose embodies several paradoxes: It's a neighborhood spot in a part of town that's hardly a neighborhood, and it attracts a hipster clientele that wolfs down country, farmhouse cooking. You've got to love a place where you find guitar players in leather pants devouring pork chops stuffed with cornbread ($13), rabbit stew ($5/$8), wild-boar burgers ($10), and venison or goose pot pie with biscuit dough ($12).

Just that list indicates the modest yet edgy ambitions of Colleen's kitchen. A lot of thought has gone into her simple yet well-crafted dishes. There's a sense that Colleen's cooks grew up learning at the stoves of their grandmothers, then applied distinctive personal touches without undermining the integrity of those savvy women's fare. A cluster of cranberries lies inside the goose pie, lending a tart sweetness to the rich meat; when you break open the perfectly browned crust, steamy aromas billow forth, a guarantee the bubbling meat is lusciously tender. Juice from a pork sausage ($13) oozes into the accompanying butternut squash and bathes the surrounding roasted vegetables. And the soup one evening daringly paired creamy puréed pumpkin and bleu cheese ($3/$5), a pungent and unctuous combination.

Everything is cooked to order, and though you may wait a bit—or even need to request some silverware—the dishes arrive piping-hot and beautifully turned. If you start with the latkes (never too greasy), or pancakes made with gouda and wild mushrooms ($13) and served with jade-green chard, or, gamely, the rabbit stew, you'll have an excellent adventure.

On generous nights, two dessert options might show up; on others, one. But a dense chocolate cake ($5.50) and homemade hazelnut ice cream ($3.50) served the bill. And that bill is as pleasantly surprising as the cooking.

With just seven or eight tables (all made by the owner's father), a reassuring shelf of cookbooks, and a coppery open kitchen, Colleen's is just the kind of splendidly personal restaurant of which this town could use lots more.