Photos by Laurie Proffitt

Gioco Gioco (pronounced Gee oh ko) means game in Italian. But dining at this new near South-loop rustic Italian restaurant is no game of chance. You win, big time. By Nancy Ross Ryan First impressions are inescapable, and every restaurant makes one the nano second that we -- all ears, nose and eyes -- step through the door. Sometimes the first impression is so muted and bland that we remember only succeeding impressions: How pleasant or professional the waiter, how comfortable or constricting the seating, how high the noise level, and, above all, how good the food. But some restaurants, and Gioco is one, make an indelible first impression. Gioco is straightaway congenial. Open the door and get a wave of conversation, a whiff of something delicious cooking, and a perception of warmth -- exposed original brick walls, mahogany accents, back-lit wine bottles in stacks, and a long open kitchen with a wood-burning pizza oven. On one of the three occasions I dined there with a friend, we walked in past the black granite sideboard toward the host's lectern-like station and on the way discovered -- a sink. A lovely, small, free-standing shiny little steel pedestal sink, empty and unattached. On our next visit the sink bowl was brimming with books of red and black Gioco matches. Each time we dined we were seated on the lower level, a few steps down, that houses the open kitchen. I highly recommend it. The entertainment is live, nightly: The chef and/or sous-chef stand, pace, encourage, exhort and inspect in front of (and sometimes behind) the granite counter atop which the freshly cooked orders are placed for the waiters to pick up. The line of cooks behind the counter prepare the food on and in an impressive battery of equipment. My favorite acts: when the cooks sear something over high heat and flame briefly engulfs the sauté pan like a miniature Vesuvius erupting, and when the pizza maker peels a pizza in and out of the wood burning oven, which registers 680 degrees plus. Other thoughts on seating: If you want to people watch, request the upper level front where you can see both incoming diners and the usually interesting crowd lining the long bar. If you want more intimacy, ask to sit on the upper level back behind the bar where the rows between tables are less traveled. Although beguiled by the ambiance, we had come for the food, and our first dinner was well begun. When asked if we wanted bottled or tap water, our choice was quickly poured, and a busser brought a plate with thick slices of moist white country bread (the kind you can sink your teeth into), a saucer of good olive oil, a little monkey dish of spicy garlicky green olives and an empty dish for pits. Our first waiter gently steered us away from ordering too much. I lusted after the Wild Mushrooms, Creamy Polenta and Truffled Mascarpone, a contorni or side dish, which I wanted as an appetizer. Our waiter pointed out that with the pasta that I had ordered -- Black pepper Cavatelli, Porcini Mushrooms, Ricotta Salata -- I was not only doubling up on my starches but repeating the mushrooms and cheese and well. He very tactfully suggested that, instead, I start with one of the chef's signature appetizers, Carpaccio Mare Monti, Red Wine Onions and Caper Berries. At $10, it was the most expensive appetizer on the menu, and I ordered it grudgingly, half-suspecting him of building his check average. How nice to be wrong. Paper thin slices of uncooked beef lay cheek to fin on a big white oval platter with translucent slices of raw tuna, garnished with piquant capers big as olives and sweet-sour thinly sliced onions, red from their wine marinade. The plate was rimmed with a slightly spicy tomato sauce. The presentation was pretty, the flavors were grand; it was worth every penny and I would order it again. The black pepper (very) cavatelli was cooked al dente, served in a savory broth-like sauce loaded with sliced mushrooms and topped with crumbles of fresh ricotta salata, a sheep's milk cheese that originated in Sicily, but now is made in Sardinian and on the Italian mainland. It's remarkably different from the ricotta we buy in cartons in the grocery store. This is sweet, delicious, mild and nutty and makes a significant contribution to pasta dishes such as the cavatelli. That first evening my friend had an appetizer of Mussels, Fennel, and Pepperoni, and he asked them to go easy on the fennel which they did. The mussels were big, succulent, tender and perfectly cooked, and the pepperoni swimming around in the spicy tomato sauce was an unexpected but welcome flavor, integral to the whole dish and not overpowering. His entree, Arborio Crusted Sea Bass in Aqua Pazza was crisp outside, juicy inside, cooked just right -- not over not under -- and the "Crazy Water" in the bowl was a little thicker than I have had elsewhere, but so very flavorful that we were more than willing to accept this chef's interpretation of a classic Italian recipe. On a second occasion, he ordered a pizza: Spicy Sausage, Shiitake Mushroom, and Egg. And a glorious pizza it was. The shape was oval, the crust was thin, tender and crisp, the toppings were bursting with flavor and each kept its own identify. In the center was a perfectly cooked egg that had been quickly "fried" in the intense heat of the pizza oven. The yolk was still liquid and added considerably to the texture and flavor of the pizza. Flavor, freshness, and seasonal ingredients cooked to order are the strong points of the chef's cuisine. Executive Chef Joe Rosetti, a Chicago native, comes from a large Italian family and learned to cook at home from the best cook in the family, his grandmother. By the age of 15 he was cooking at Tivoli, a neighborhood restaurant. A subsequent Chicago-area job -- at La Cuisine Catering in Oakbrook, Illinois -- came with the fringe benefit of a mentor, his boss, Larry Inzano, who recognized his talent and provided encouragement. From Chicago, Rosetti went to Orlando, Florida and through the well-known Disney Culinary Apprenticeship program, reaching management level. For the next eight years at Disney he learned the restaurant business on a grand scale, opening restaurants that ranged from fine-dining to casual. In 1994 Rosetti returned to Chicago to open New York Restaurant Group's Mrs. Park's Tavern as executive chef. He was also chef de cuisine for the opening of Park Avenue Cafe in 1995. Then he became corporate executive chef of that same group's Smith & Wollensky steak houses, opening them nationwide. In June 1999 Rosetti returned to his roots -- rustic Italian cooking -- at Jerry Kleiner's Gioco, a pioneering venture in the near South Loop neighborhood. (Kleiner also trail blazed the Randolph Street Market District with Vivo in 1991, Marché in 1994 and Red Light in 1996.) Seasonality shows up in the soup of the day. One cold day it was a deep-bottomed white bowl of bean soup with full-flavored tomato broth, just thick enough, perfectly cooked beans, shards of tender meat, and topped with fresh basil and a scattering of ricotta salata. (The unusual shape of those deep bowls with wide rims look very attractive stacked on the granite counter waiting to be filled.) It also shows up in daily specials. Once there was a risotto (more about that later) and I was tempted but passed it up in favor of a pasta dish of Maltagliatta with a Veal Ragu. The pasta (which means "badly cut") is irregularly shaped, somewhat like floppy triangles, and, served as it was in a chunky veal sauce, was so satisfying that I don't care that the menu disagrees with what my sources say is the proper spelling of "maltagliati." (The important thing is that Rosetti can cook, not that whoever writes the menu can't spell.) Other things we ate and loved: Sweet Sausage, Grapes, Mashed Potatoes. It was a strange-sounding entree but I ordered it anyway and wasn't disappointed. Several large plump spicy Italian sausages were laid, like small railroad ties, on a bed of creamy garlicky mashed potatoes and sauced with a savory gravy just loaded with sweet grapes. This was comfort food of a much higher order than mashed potatoes and gravy. My dinner companion also ordered Chicken Vesuvio, Gioco Style, quite unlike the too-oily cliche that is a menu mainstay of so many American-Italian eateries. The half chicken was shaped so that the leg stood straight up from the plate. The skin was crusty and seasoned with herbs, and the chicken itself was as succulent as any I have ever eaten. It came with large wedges of roasted potatoes -- the only disappointment on the plate -- that were mediocre in flavor and texture. Which brings me to my only disappointment with the food in general: potatoes. On one occasion I had a special appetizer of clams in a spicy tomato sauce with fingerling potatoes. I rarely order clams because they are often rubbery. (My friend says that clams are an "acquired texture.") But these were plump and tender with a delicate flavor and by far the best clams I have ever had at an Italian restaurant. The potatoes, however, overwhelmed by sauce and slightly soggy, had lost their reason for being. The third potato disappointment: My friend ordered tuna with roasted red onion and, although the menu said celeriac and turnip mash, the waiter said potatoes. They looked and tasted like very flavorful mashed potatoes, but they were cold. When my friend complained, the waiter replied that if the potatoes were hot the rare slices of tuna on top would get cooked. They were so tasty and the tuna was so perfect my friend ate the dish anyway, commenting that cold comfort suddenly had new meaning. I say serve the potatoes hot and let the tuna fend for itself. The third time we dined at Gioco, I was looking forward to that risotto special I passed up on a previous night. Our waiter told me no risotto that evening. When I asked if it runs only as an occasional special he said that was right. I was disappointed for two reasons: I love creamy, al dente risotto, and it's a good benchmark of quality for an Italian restaurant. On the other hand perhaps Rosetti is wise in offering risotto only when it can be perfectly cooked. I have had too many mushy restaurant risottos. By way of explanation, an Italian friend and chef says that risotto is really a home dish that requires constant attention while cooking and needs to be served the minute it is done. He claims that it's easier for restaurants in Italy to serve risotto because Italians tend to dine at definite hours, whereas here in America customers come in whenever. Lacking the risotto I made up for an earlier lost opportunity and ordered all side dishes, among them Wild Mushrooms, Creamy Polenta and Truffled Mascarpone. The waiter brought a good-sized ramekin heaped with really creamy Polenta topped with sliced, sauteed mushrooms, some crisp onions and running through it, like veins of precious ore, rich, soft mascarpone cheese flavored with white truffle oil. Final food notes:The Gnocchi ala Romana appetizer is a nice change from potato gnocchi: three little cakes of semolina gnocchi plated on tomato sauce. And a side, Rapini, Raisins, Pine Nuts, offers a nice flavor contrast between the pleasantly bitter rapini greens and sweet raisins. The portion is enough for two or three to share. Portions in general at Gioco are just right, neither too large or too small. However, a meal of three courses is very filling. If you intend to have dessert, you need strategies. Either order and share a bunch of courses with a whole table, or else confine yourself to two courses: one small and one pasta or main course. We tried two desserts, both delicious: a rich dense Chocolate Hazelnut Torta with caramel sauce, and the gelato of that giorno. It was burnt caramel flavor, three quenelle-shaped scoops, topped with a fresh ripe strawberry and a dollop of whipped cream. The wine list is short, but well-balanced, and the wines by the glass afford choices in both red and white that range from light to full-bodied styles. At the very back of Gioco are two connected rooms, each with bar, styled as a "Speakeasy." Enter one from the main dining room through the door of an old-time safe.Once inside that room, another pair of doors closes to reveal faux bookshelves. And the restaurant has an alley entrance to the Speakeasy. Bottom line:The food is not delicate, but full-flavored, well-prepared and delicious. The menu offers several dishes that you won't find on other Italian restaurants in Chicago, a refreshing point of difference. The welcome is genuine and the servers are professional and really know and can explain the food. What are the odds that my friend and I will go back? It's a sure bet.

Photos by Stuart-Rodgers Photography

	GIOCO 1312 South Wabash (312) 939-3870 HOURS: LunchMon.-Fri., 11:30 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. DinnerMon.-Wed., 5:30 p.m. to 10 p.m.; Thur., 5:30 p.m. to 11 p.m.; Fri.-Sat., 5:30 p.m. to midnight; Sun. 5 p.m. to 10 p.m. SEATING: 175 guests in the main dining room; 100 in the private dining room. Smoking in a small section of the dining room and at the bar. Reservations recommended. Valet parking recommended. American Express, Diner's, MasterCard, Visa. RATING (on a 5-star scale):