Oriole 6/20/2024

Executive chef and owner Noah Sandoval has a flair for elegant-yet-stripped down design. It's evident in the composition of his cuisine, but also immediately felt from the moment you walk in the door at Oriole. Traversing a nondescript West Loop alley, you emerge into a dining den defined by exposed brick and wooden beams. It exudes an almost Scandinavian sort of vibe—or hygge, if you like.

The restaurant itself is in an absolutely beautiful unique space, carved into a warehouse with open beams, exposed brick and incredible modern lighting that was truly remarkable and inviting. The interior design definitely gets you excited for what is to come. You enter in a vestibule and into an old freight elevator, which does not end up moving - the other side opens with a host standing there ready to welcome you in.

The night opens at the bar, setting the tone with a few delicate bites and a fantastic welcome drink of chrysanthemum tea—floral, soothing, an understated promise of what’s to come. From there, we were ushered to the kitchen counter for Oriole’s signature foie gras mousse. It’s the kind of dish that elicits an involuntary giggle—pillowy brioche cradling rich, decadent foie gras, perfectly balanced with tart huckleberries and a whisper of lemony anise hyssop.

Once seated at our table, the meal unfolded in a series of astonishingly well-executed courses. A prawn dish so impeccably cooked it bordered on revelatory. Soft scrambled egg and uni, accented with just the right kiss of peppers—one of those rare dishes that etches itself into memory. A beautifully delicate trout, bathed in a silken beurre blanc. And then, the black truffle pasta—luxurious yet restrained, each bite layered with depth and indulgence.