Review: Scofflaw’s new chef challenges what it means to be New American in excellent ways

Scofflaw has a legacy of culinary overachievement.

So you’d think with the success that preceded executive chef Fred Chung, who took over just about a year ago, he might have kept the fan favorites on the menu a little bit longer.

The tteokbokki, however, was a victim of its own success.

Having missed out on the Korean rice cakes, I had to ask the chef why.

“For the cooks really,” he said. “I want to challenge them, to be able to learn how to make new things, see other techniques — see other flavors, as well.”

One of the ways they are meeting that challenge is with the return of the breakfast sandwich series, served on weekends only, changing weekly. A five spice-glazed pork belly with fried egg on ciabatta kicked off the prodigal sandwich series in July.

I missed that one too.

What I would not be denied was the third sandwich in the series, with bacon pâte in the style of a banh mi.

However fleeting they might be, Chung’s dishes at Scofflaw rank among the best in the city right now.

Perhaps it’s no wonder, since he was part of the opening teams at Kasama and Jeong, and cooked at Oriole too. If you shrank his dishes, they could easily become stunning tasting menu courses. Yet the chef seems to struggle with what to call his cuisine.

“At the core of what I love is Korean food,” Chung said.

But he loves other cuisines as well, the chef said, so he’s still experimenting with what works with the cocktails and the menu as a whole.

“I don’t know if New American might be the right word? Maybe Asian-influenced New American?” he said. “I don’t know.”

I don’t quite know either. What I do know is his food challenges not only his cooks, but our definitions of what it means to be a New American.

Take a current trio of dishes designed to be shared.

We start with the Brussels sprouts. The vegetable has become so ubiquitous that I’ve come to dread it. Here, a small bowl hides dark and feathery shards, deep fried until bravely bitter. They’re delicately bound by an emulsion of nutty brown butter and bright kimchi. It’s all given substance with Chinese sausage, lap cheong gently rendered, so still fatty and sweet. A garnish of crisped grains of chewy rice evokes the coveted crusts of Korean dolsot bibimbap and Cantonese claypot.

Sweet corn — tiny roasted kernels dressed with a blueberry soy gastrique, shavings of firm ricotta salata, bubu arare (tiny rice cracker pearls from Japan) and torn mint leaves — re-imagines a Midwestern summer somewhere between Kyoto and Sicily.

Pork belly and broccolini, with chunky batons and snappy stalks tossed with chile crisp, gets a swipe of fish sauce aioli, enhanced with a dusting of cumin dry rub.

Individually they’re intensely thoughtful. Together they tell a remarkable story of a restless, creative chef.

Butter chicken has become one of the bestselling main dishes, Chung said. Surprisingly, it’s dodged the chopping block, but it’s not what traditionalists would expect. Instead, Chung serves impeccable chicken katsu-inspired panko-fried breast over fluffy basmati rice, alongside a striking pool of spiced tomato sauce, punctuated with creme fraiche.

The dish dispelled another of my culinary dreads, pervasive chicken breasts.

“I originally wanted that dish with chicken thigh,” Chung said. “But the texture actually held up better with chicken breast.”

The panna cotta, topped with toasted genmai puffs and floral fermented honey, is a silky custard infused with fragrant memories of roasted sweet potatoes in Seoul.

The chef tried other dishes with the root vegetable but wasn’t happy with them, he said, because they failed to capture the cold weather street food that was such a big part of growing up visiting Korea.

“They’re just roasting them on the side of the street,” Chung said. “And that smell is just so intoxicating.”

He wanted to put out a dish that properly paid homage to his beloved gun-goguma. He does that, and more, honoring the country his parents left in 1977. Chung is Korean American, and grew up in the northwest suburban stretch I call New Koreatown. He worked a “very, very boring” office job, he said, until he came to a realization that so many immigrant parents fear.

“I had to make a decision,” he added. “What do I love doing? Do I try to make something out of that?”

He began by working at Yusho. No culinary school, just experience working at great restaurants.

With such a start, it’s no surprise the cocktails impress as much as the food. (And lest we forget, Scofflaw has been still winning cocktail awards more than a decade after opening in 2012.)

The Garden Era, with Citadelle Jardin d’Été gin plus Giffard Pamplemousse and Salers gentiane liqueurs, is what Malört must dream it could be, with the loveliest lilting grapefruit and herbal notes.

The Liar’s Spritz, a spirit-free interpretation of an Aperol spritz, mixes nonalcoholic Lyre’s Italian orange aperitivo and alcohol-free sparkling wine with beautiful balance and complexity.

They are the wonderful work of bar manager Becca Petersen, previously lead bartender at James Beard-nominated Nobody’s Darling.

She’s also assistant general manager to an excellent service staff. I can’t praise them enough, especially my server on what ended up as a couple of intermittently drizzly visits in the gorgeous cocktail garden. The gated area in back, protected by umbrellas, replaced a narrow sidewalk patio in summer 2021.

Do note that Scofflaw is a 21-and-over establishment, except for well-behaved dogs who are welcome at any age in the garden. The Scofflaw Group also owns the family-friendly Moonlighter across the street, with Outside Voices around the corner.

My server shared that the fire chicken is one of the staff favorites, but they can’t order them during service, because the scallion pancake alone takes so long to make.

“The process of making it is definitely one of, if not our biggest, labor costs,” Chung said. “It takes a while, but it feels like it’s worth it so we’re going to keep it for a little bit. At least for the time being.”

Pop Chu, who grew up eating cong you bing around Shanghai, was impressed by the flaky flatbread, as was I. Meanwhile, Mom Chu, who’s a super taster from Hoisan, so sensitive to spicy food, found the fire chicken filling a touch too hot, despite the cooling Monterey Jack cheese and cabbage slaw. I, on the other hand, wished for a lot more heat.

The steak salad, with perfectly cooked medium-rare slices of Denver steak (a boneless chuck) over a nest of lettuce and herbs dressed liberally with nuoc cham and crispy shallots, packed an umami punch, but seemed to need one more neutral component, possibly bread or even rice noodles.

Chocolate chip beignets, showered with powdered sugar as they should be, lost their lightness somewhere along the way.

The Hong Kong-style French toast found it, though, radiant with golden layers, crowned by a quenelle of milk tea butter, hiding a heart of black sesame.

Chung credits the dish to his sous chef Wesley Lawrence, who was also on the opening team at Jeong.

“It’s not just me doing it,” Chung said. “It’s my sous chef and all the other cooks in collaboration.”

The dish that’s unmistakably his is the bibimbap, with mushroom or beef, an orange yolk Yuppie Hill egg from Wisconsin, seasonal vegetables and housemade pickled cucumbers, all over rice in a celebration of culture.

A couple of items preceding Chung’s tenure endure unchanged: the burger, with double smash patties, and chocolate chip cookies. The latter are baked every night, exclusively offered as a complimentary midnight snack.

One item that hasn’t returned despite popular demand is the Guapachosa, a meaty secret menu sandwich inspired by the handsome original at Doña Torta Chilanga.

“I’m not exactly sure if that’s going to come back or not,” Chung said. “I want to give people the thing that they enjoy.” At the same time, he wonders if that sandwich is true to him, he said.

As do I.

It might come back as a secret menu item, he added.

If so, it will be just one more fleeting moment worth savoring.

Scofflaw

3201 W. Armitage Ave.

773-252-9700

scofflawchicago.com

Open: Daily; Saturday and Sunday 11 a.m. to 2 a.m.; Monday to Friday 5 p.m. to 2 a.m. (kitchen closes at 1 a.m. nightly)

Prices: Brunch dishes, $10-$16; dinner dishes, $6-$50; cocktails $10-$14

Noise: Conversation-friendly

Eat. Watch. Do.

Weekly

---

What to eat. What to watch. What you need to live your best life ... now.

By submitting your email to receive this newsletter, you agree to our Subscriber Terms & Conditions and Privacy Policy.

>

Accessibility: Wheelchair accessible in outdoor cocktail garden; indoor bar and restrooms on single level with removable ramp

Tribune rating: Excellent, 3 stars

Ratings key: Four stars, outstanding; three stars, excellent; two stars, very good; one star, good; no stars, unsatisfactory. Meals are paid for by the Tribune.

lchu@chicagotribune.com

Big screen or home stream, takeout or dine-in, Tribune writers are here to steer you toward your next great experience. Sign up for your free weekly Eat. Watch. Do. newsletter here.