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Frog n Snail | Restaurant review

Dale Levitski’s new bistro reopens the debate about his food.

By David Tamarkin
Published: May 17, 2012

377.rb.eo.rv.frogSnail
Brook trout  at Frog N Snail
Homemade ricotta dip at Frog N Snail
Soft shell crab at Frog N Snail
  • Brook trout  at Frog N Snail

    Brook trout at Frog N Snail

    Photo: Martha Williams378.rb.eo.rv.frogNSnail1xSS.jpgBrook trout  at Frog N Snail153564961
  • Homemade ricotta dip at Frog N Snail

    Homemade ricotta dip at Frog N Snail

    Photo: Martha Williams378.rb.eo.rv.frogNSnail2xSS.jpgHomemade ricotta dip at Frog N Snail153565012
  • Soft shell crab at Frog N Snail

    Soft shell crab at Frog N Snail

    Photo: Martha Williams378.rb.eo.rv.frogNSnail3xSS.jpgSoft shell crab at Frog N Snail153565063

Brook trout at Frog N Snail

Photo: Martha Williams

The restaurant came out of nowhere, but it wasn’t a surprise. Nothing from Dale Levitski comes as a surprise anymore. When a chef jumps from making fruit sushi at Orange to succeeding Grant Achatz at Trio to almost winning Top Chef to running a popular (if kidphobic) brunch at Sprout, a Lakeview bistro-by-night, crêperie-by-day just kind of fits. At this point, what wouldn’t?

And yet no matter what Levitski comes up with, it’s going to be divisive. His is love-it-or-hate-it kind of food, which people find either blunt and falsely sophisticated, or flavor-forward and creative. I’ve been in the latter camp. When, on an early visit to Sprout, licorice root was shaved over my salad tableside, I didn’t think it was gimmicky. I thought it was…cool. And I thought the naysayers were just being overly hard on a guy who’d been on TV.

At Frog n Snail, though, I began to understand the haters. My defection started small. After a pretty good meal of anchovy crostini (with the inspired addition of slivered lemon), rich housemade ricotta and overly salted chicken, I experienced a lingering disappointment. I chalked this up to Levitski’s use of big, easy flavors. Salt. Oil. Bread. Cheese. Mix these in a bowl and you can please anybody, I reasoned. But the truth was I wasn’t pleased—I was just making excuses.

Later, there would be dishes I just couldn’t excuse, like the dry and dusty carrot-curry cake, or the ferociously underseasoned beef Stroganoff. A pile of brandade “stix” had almost no flavor and did nothing to repair the reputation of fish sticks. And what should be the restaurant’s signature dish—frog legs with a snail ragout—should instead be removed from the menu entirely. At least until the kitchen can learn to cook frog and snail right.

Here and there I found traces of the Levitski I could appreciate: a strawberry snuck into the bottom of a very pretty, very good garden salad; French gnocchi paired with luscious bites of lamb; some lovely pieces of fish. Though simple and big, the flavors of those bites reminded me how winning Levitski can be. But when a chocolate cake with potato chips and pretzel sticks thrown haphazardly on the plate arrives at the table, the Top Chef loses his lead.

2
Time Out Critic
 

3124 N Broadway (773-661-9166, frognsnail.com). Lunch, dinner. Average main course: $18.

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