An Orgasm On A Plate
Holy fork! Chicken Vesuvio is that good.
Several years ago, when my husband and I were city-dwellers, as opposed to suburbanites, we dined out, frequently. And, why not? Chicago is a smorgasbord of culinary delights. A melting pot of deliciousness on every block, in every neighborhood.
Yes, Chi-Town over-flows with destination dining. Lake Michigan after a squall has nothing on this city’s wealth and breadth of eateries.
One of our favorite haunts was a small, cozy spot tucked away in Chicago’s Little Italy: Bacchanalia, a family owned and operated slice of heaven located at 2413 S. Oakley Avenue.
Dimly-lit, with clear, “Italian lights” strung here and there, you feel relaxed and at home the moment you enter. In other words, the vibe is super chill, yet elegant at the same time.
Everything on the menu is divine. From the pillowy, melt-in-your-mouth, gnocchi in a butter and sage sauce, to the tilapia sautéed with fresh tomatoes, basil and spices, to the char-broiled, New York strip steak — one bite and you’ll believe, as we did, that a magician helms the kitchen.
I indulged in red meat back then. I no longer do, but I remember the perfect char, the succulent flesh. And, the calamari appetizer! Fried to perfection, with just the right chew.
Although you can’t go wrong with anything on Bacchanalia’s menu, my husband and I nearly always ordered the Chicken Vesuvio. That, was our “destination dish.”
Oh, my. Where do I begin? A plump, half-chicken, sautéed in a sauce of fresh garlic, wine and lemon, with a side of Vesuvio potatoes. I’m getting tingly just thinking about it.
The aroma of the garlic and wine sauce is what you notice first. This is a dish to be savored with all the senses. One doesn’t just “dive in” to Bacchanalia’s Chicken Vesuvio. Time must be spent in appreciation of this gastronomic gift from the gods.
But, as our Moms always told us, “Don’t let your food get cold.” Time to eat. Time to cut into the juicy chicken, with it’s perfectly crisped and caramelized skin, bathed in that heavenly sauce. OMG. The taste is almost indescribable. If you’re a garlic lover, as I am, you’ll know what I’m talking about. There’s just the right amount, and it beautifully pairs with the wine and hint of lemon.
The side of potatoes would make a meal in and of themselves. Browned and crusty on the outside and silky soft on the inside — these are the real deal. Some restaurants include fresh, green peas in the sauce. I can have it either way.
What a sexy dish. And, a sexy time as my husband and I were still dating when we first visited Bacchanalia. There was an undeniable aura of romance that permeated our time there. We would take time with our meal, and then linger over coffee and Sambuca, an Italian, anise-flavored liqueur.
In fact, we had our pre-wedding dinner at Bacchanalia’s. You know: The one where one family meets the other family. I’m happy to say it was a total success.
Although we haven’t been to Bacchanalia in years, I’m thinking it’s time to make a pilgrimage. And, if you ever get to Chicago, you must try it.
The origins of Chicken Vesuvio are rather muddy. Chicago is the dish’s birthplace, but not much more is known. It’s been said that the dish was named for The Vesuvio, a restaurant on Wacker Drive in the 1930s. Although Vesuvio was a volcano near Naples, the owner was from Turin, Italy.
Although I have thought of it, I’ve never tried making Chicken Vesuvio. As a hit and miss cook, this would be a huge undertaking for me. I’m afraid I’d fuck it up royally.
If I ever do give it a shot, I’ll have to invest in a good pair of elbow-length, fire retardant gloves as I’m known for burning myself in the kitchen. (Cooking drunk. I have the scars to prove it. Don’t do it, gang.)
This isn’t to say that you shouldn’t throw your hat in the Chicken Vesuvio ring, or sauce. Love chicken? Garlic? Wine? Then, go for it.
Harry Caray’s, the restaurant opened by the late, great, Cubs sportscaster, claims to serve up one of the best versions of Chicken Vesuvio in Chicago. From what I hear, it’s damn fine.
Although my allegiance is to Bacchanalia, even though I couldn’t lay hands on their recipe, I urge you to try Harry Caray’s version.
Harry Caray’s Chicken Vesuvio
Ingredients:
Peas, frozen — 1 cup Olive oil — ¼ cup Potatoes, russet — 4, peeled, cut in quarters, lengthwise Garlic — 12 cloves, 2 minced Chicken — 1, cut into 8 pieces White wine — 1 ½ cups Parsley, flat-leaf — ⅓ cup, chopped Oregano, dried — 1 tablespoon Salt — 1 teaspoon Black pepper — 1 teaspoon Chicken stock — 1 ½ cups
Directions:
- Boil water in a small saucepan. Add peas and cook 1 minute. Drain. Rinse with cold water.
- Heat the olive oil in a large oven-proof skillet over medium heat and add the potatoes and the 10 whole garlic cloves. Cook, stirring occasionally, until potatoes are golden brown on all sides, about 12 minutes. Remove the garlic and discard. Remove potatoes on top of paper towels.
- Heat oven to 375° F.
- Add chicken pieces to the skillet, in batches, if necessary. Cook, turning once, until lightly brown, about 5 minutes per side. Stir in the wine, stirring to scrape up browned bits. Cook until reduced by half, about 10 minutes.
- Return potatoes to the skillet. Season with the oregano, parsley, the 2 cloves of minced garlic, salt and pepper. Add the chicken stock.
- Put in the oven, and bake until the chicken is done, about 45 minutes.
- Transfer the chicken to a serving platter. Arrange the potatoes around the chicken, and pour the sauce from the pan over the dish.
There’s only one thing left to say: Mangia, my friends. Mangia!
Sherry McGuinn is a longtime Chicago-area writer and award-winning screenwriter. Her work has appeared in The Chicago Tribune, Chicago Sun-Times and numerous other publications. Sherry’s manager is currently pitching her newest screenplay, a drama with dark, comedic overtones and inspired by a true story.
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