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More Adventures in Uptown

Zinny's happy to call dibs on a table at Lawrence Avenue's Dib Sushi.

Tuesday Nov 20, 2007.     By Zinny Fandel

Food Feed

There aren't too many parts of the North Side that I'm not familiar with, so when Merle called to ask exactly where we were meeting, it felt odd to admit that I really didn't know.

Our Monday night BYOB date was a last-minute plan, the result of a few hungover text messages and a half-hearted online search. Dib Sushi Bar and Thai Cuisine had a fun name and an easy location—in walking distance from Merle's Uptown condo—making it a virtual shoe-in. But while I had committed the address to memory—1025 W. Lawrence—as I pedaled up Clark Street, I realized I didn't really know where that was.

And as soon as I went north of Irving Park, I realized I wasn't in Kansas anymore. The stretch of Uptown east of Broadway is an odd mix of gentrification and dilapidation, and I had a hard time picturing the sweet sushi restaurant of my dreams next to JJ Fish & Chicken.

I wasn't entirely wrong. Dib is a white twinkle light-clad oasis, sitting in a strip mall a stone's throw from its most illustrious neighbor: JJ Peppers. Of the few places I try to steer my booze business away from, that's one, so I hopped just north to Foremost Liquors (Argyle) in hopes of scoring a decent bottle. Quelle surprise, I bypassed a shockingly impressive stock of what seemed to be mostly red wine, and made a beeline for the row of coolers. After one, two, three, four doors revealed nothing but beer, my hopes nosedived, landing me in front of a mere single shelf of white wine.

But what a shelf! Liquor stores, take note: Foremost has stumbled upon a brilliant idea. Instead of stocking six bottles each of five kinds of wine, it stocks a chilly one of a gaggle of different wines, meaning I got to sort my way through a comforting number of options, with several $10 bottles to choose from.

I waltzed into a fairly quiet Dib, outfitted simply (with gray carpeting) but pleasantly (with floor-to-ceiling windows partially blocked by gauzy drapes), with my 2005 Kia Kaha Sauvignon Blanc. Merle showed up a few minutes later to an open bottle and a long list of Japanese and Thai menu options. I started with a miso soup but, in true Zinny fashion, did a poor job of sticking to what was in front of me.

Merle had ordered the spring roll, which arrived topped with slivers of red pepper and thin slices of jalapeno and doused in homemade plum sauce. It was ooey and gooey and a little more indulgent than the veggieriffic spring rolls I was used to. The sweetness of the plum sauce met an admirable match in the wine, which was slightly sweet but crisp and light, leaving any weighted emphasis on the food.

We ordered three rolls from a list of refreshingly new ones: the Black and White, a $12 specialty maki stuffed with avocado, cilantro and jalapeno and topped with super white tuna accented by black sesame seeds; the Chicago, a super-simple mix of tuna, salmon, yellowtail, lettuce and avocado; and the sweet potato tempura, an indulgent roll with barbecue sauce, unagi sauce and mayo.

The pacing was pure perfection: Each roll came artfully plated, and brought out one at a time. We'd refill our glasses and slowly pick at the pieces, and just as we'd empty one plate, a new one would appear. Each one was an improvement over the last for me: The Chicago was a little light on the fish, but fresh and simple. The sweet potato was beyond complaint, with its well-battered potato—not too hard, not too soft—slightly oozey mayo and saucey drizzle. But the Black and White, with the super-white tuna, a personal fave, took the cake. And though it was a bit pricier, it was also bigger, meaning more eatin' for Zinny and Merle, who exclaimed "It's like summer."

And with it's freshness, it was a bit, and we kept the summertime vibes rolling with an order of mochi—one green tea, one mango ice cream, served in a sweet little dish with a slice of strawberry and a lone pecan for adornment. We talked for a while after paying the wildly appropriate $40 bill, eventually and reluctantly trading our freewheeling moment for, well, November.

Zinny Fandel's tales of living the (mostly) BYOB life are intended to be attempted at home and in the community, preferably at BYOB restaurants. If you know of a BYOB spot she simply must tipple at, let her know.