I’ve come to the point again that these pieces, one after another, feel too overwhelmingly positive—understandably so, for I’ve been writing about the places I actually want to visit rather than chasing just any new opening. Following my instincts, I have become pretty adept at avoiding disappointment. Plus, even if a good place has a bad night, the right bottle of wine at a sharp price can help to pardon any number of sins.
That being said, I am intrigued by certain additions to the dining scene: maybe not every new steakhouse or omakase (though I inevitably try them at least once for the sake of having an informed opinion) but, rather, creative expressions from pedigreed chefs that may be working in an emerging genre or, otherwise, reimagining one that has grown familiar. If any kind of outside talent chooses to open up a concept in our city and plans to actually be here, behind the stove, to some degree, I am particularly interested.
Indeed, nurturing Chicago’s sous chefs and chefs de cuisine when (after cutting their teeth) they finally go out on their own is essential. However, rewarding those who take the risk of entering our market—who may expose peers and patrons alike to a new way of thinking—must also be considered.
I first heard of Nic + Junior’s courtesy of Oriole, which hosted a collaboration dinner with chef-owner Junior Borges in April of this year. I did not attend, but the mere promotion of the event caught my attention because I am more used to Oriole joining forces with chefs touting their own one or two Michelin stars.
Borges, born and raised in a “small town north of Rio de Janeiro,” honed his culinary chops in New York City (under names like Missy Robbins and Tom Colicchio) and Dallas (where he opened a branch of Uchi to great acclaim). His breakout success occurred at Meridian: a modern Brazilian restaurant that provided the chef with the first chance “to really cook his own…food” inspired, say, by memories of the beach or of his grandmother’s state of Bahia.
Some labelled the concept “fine dining” (and it’s an amorphous designation for sure). The cuisine—served à la carte—was characterized by nostalgic snacks (“Tapioca Brazilian Cheese Fritter,” “Grilled ‘Beach Cheese’ On a Stick”), refined small plates (“Cured Fluke Tartare,” “Braised Squid”), inflected pastas (“Fusilli Verde” with chili, “Tagliatelle” with Texas figs), bold large plates (“Blue Prawn Moqueca,” “Rosewood Wagyu Picanha”), and an additional selection from the hearth (“Half Chicken,” “Whole Octopus”).
In Dallas, Meridian was named a “Restaurant of the Year” upon its debut in 2021, with Borges also winning honors as a “Rising Star Chef.” The high point came in 2023: a semifinalist nod for “Outstanding Chef” from the James Beard Awards. That same year, Borges would leave Meridian, noting that he “need[ed] more” (namely “a partnership, some kind of opportunity to develop other concepts”).
He found that in Excelsior Hospitality, whose Austin restaurants (Juniper, Uncle Nicky’s) he began overseeing in 2024 as a chef-partner alongside chef-owner Nicholas Yanes. While those properties had already been in existence (or at least in the works) before Borges joined the team, Nic + Junior’s would represent a namesake collaboration, from the ground up, in an entirely new city.
Borges announced the concept as early as December of 2024, noting his desire to “highlight flavors and ingredients…[he] grew up eating as a Brazilian” and to “educate people” about the cuisine and culture (specifically “the connections between Africa and Brazil”) without “over-thinking or over-complicating” the menu. More practically, the former Beacon Tavern space would offer “both casual and formal experiences”: a 30-seat dining room with a six-course Brazilian-Italian prix-fixe on one side and a bar area with an à la carte/raw bar menu on the other.
Nic + Junior’s opened in May of 2025, aiming to “toe the line between neighborhood and fine dining restaurant” while becoming “part of the community.” Borges had received the blessing of Oriole—“sometimes you know something will be special” they said of the chef when announcing their collaboration event—but he clarified he wasn’t “in Chicago to chase awards or Michelin stars in a larger market.”
Impressions, during these first few months, have been more or less positive: the restaurant maintains a 4.7 rating (68 reviews) on Google and a 4.1 rating (16 reviews) on Yelp at present. Thomas Keller even dined there during its opening week—furthering adding to the chef’s bonafides.
With Nic + Junior’s recent listing as the second hottest restaurant in Chicago right now (according to Chicago magazine) and as one of the best new restaurants in the city (according to Eater), it would appear the concept is finally ready for primetime.
In all honesty, I visited Nic + Junior’s less than a week after it opened, and the growing pains were apparent.
My intention was not to catch the concept in a moment of weakness. Rather, I actually was kind of heartened by Borges’s background and his desire to win the city over in a slow and steady manner. I hadn’t seen much fanfare regarding the opening, and this approach seemingly spoke to a kind of quiet confidence that might win me over.
I made my visit midweek: placing trust in the $185 per person “Chef’s Prix Fixe Tasting Experience” (a multicourse format with some set items and a couple that diners need choose from the listed options). During the two hours I was there in the dining room, not a single other party entered—and there’s nothing wrong with that. It would be a pure test of service and cooking without any kind of distraction.
I cannot fault the hospitality, which was attentive (understandably so) but also warm and easy courtesy of a staff recruited from within Chicago as well as without. The cocktails and wine on offer (which I will discuss in more detail later) were also more than serviceable.
However, I felt my first inkling of disappointment when observing that many of the most distinctive dishes listed online for the prix fixe—“Hokkaido Scallop” (with caviar), “Empadinha” (with black truffle), “Pizzelle” (with foie gras), the signature “Grilled ‘Beach’ Cheese,” “Chawanmushi” (with uni), “Fiore di Carciofi” (with ramps), “Bomboloni” (with pine nut)—had been replaced by altogether less luxurious items or ones, indeed, taken entirely off of the bar menu (thus undoing much of the reason to commit to the pricier tasting).
In all fairness, the prix fixe’s fine print states that “offerings may change based on seasonality and inspiration.” Of course, it was not long after opening, yet I was also there trying this menu on an off day.
When it comes to execution, a few items impressed and a few disappointed—undercooked pasta being the worst of the sins. The majority of the dishes I tried were just average.
Yes, in formally ranking the menu from that night:
I would place the “Hot Capicola Spiedini,” “Pao de Queijo,” and “Rohan Duck” in the highest category: good—even very good—recipes I would enjoy having again.
The “Wagyu Beef Tartare,” “Snow Crab Claw,” “Crispy Potato,” “Branzino,” “A5 Wagyu Picanha” (a $25 supplement), “Olive Oil Cake,” “Brigadeiro,” and “Romeo & Juliet ‘Mini Cone’” come next: merely good items that did not reach the level of being memorable.
Finally, I’d place the “Dadinho,” “Smoked Scallop,” and “Spaghetti alla Chitarra” (a $20 supplement) at the bottom: below-average dishes that suffered from textural flaws and/or flavor imbalance.
Overall, this makes for a hit-rate of 21% to 79% depending on how harshly one chooses to judge those “merely good” offerings. Neither of the supplements, it should be noted, landed among the best items served. Even being charitable, the meal was not convincing.
Nonetheless, the worst part of the night had to be overhearing the chef (not Borges, nor his understudy, but whoever is third in the chain of command) berate the servers and his fellow cooks during the course of dinner. Eventually, an apology was offered, but it was clear that the chef in question had little sense of how his voice traveled in the empty dining room.
Admittedly, he was also rather personable when addressing the table at the conclusion of the meal. I put forth the thought that this prix fixe, maybe, was a means of winning Michelin’s favor (given the longstanding belief that one must serve some kind of tasting menu here to win a star). Structurally, after all, many of the dishes we sampled were simply adapted from the à la carte offerings and served with greater formality. The chef chuckled knowingly at my suggestion before clarifying that the bar menu is really what the kitchen is most passionate about and what he would recommend more strongly.
Faced with this information, I thought it would be a little unfair to write about my early experience at this young concept without digging deeper. After all, Nic + Junior’s wasn’t promising the world in order to get customers through the door and spending money. At that point, the team was only really trying to please locals who happened upon their work. Plus, what I tasted wasn’t hopeless (just underwhelming), and it seemed right to give the restaurant a chance to find its feet and be judged on what it considers to be its best work.
I returned to Nic + Junior’s about two months later (that crucial point in any restaurant’s development when I feel criticism can rightfully be made), armed with a sense of the prix fixe’s flaws but excited to shape my own experience of Borges’s cuisine à la carte. Though what I encountered left me with even more questions, it does equip me to speak to how the concept has grown and where it maybe should go next.
Let us begin.
Nic + Junior’s sits tucked between a condo building, an apartment building, and an infamous hotel on the upper level of Wabash Avenue. The surrounding area features more of the same: a density of five- and four-star accommodations sprinkled with residences and reaching toward one of the city’s most vital nexuses.
Yes, while diners walking here from the north or west may find themselves down on Hubbard, near Shaw’s, having to climb a set of stairs to find their way to the restaurant, traffic from the south and east just seems to find its way here. The riverwalk, several landmark buildings, a few popular boat tours, statues, art installations, street performers, and a prime section of Michigan Avenue shopping can be found only blocks away. Should anyone wander through the atrium of the Wrigley Building, they are bound to come across Nic + Junior’s.
However, the question isn’t really one of curb appeal: Yanes and Borges have not opened along the river or on one of the denser dining blocks of River North. Rather, a bit like the new location of The Purple Pig or the aforementioned Shaw’s (two of the concept’s closest neighbors), Nic + Junior’s exists just one step away from the scrum—where brands like Lou Malnati’s and Chick-fil-A can claim prime positions that convert passersby into spur-of-the-moment customers.
Even though the restaurant is categorized under that amorphous “New American” genre (I suppose Brazilian-Italian doesn’t form one of the options on Google), it is equipped to compete for the attention of anyone scanning a map of the area. Indeed, with the weight of a strong rating, friendly hours (11 AM to 10 PM, Tuesday through Sunday), and a price point ($50 to $100) that promises a premium experience, Nic + Junior’s is one of only few places in a two- or three-block radius that really transcends all the casual dining to be found. I’m omitting places ensconced in some of the nicer hotels (whose value, furthermore, is often questionable), but the point stands for locals and tourists alike.
At the very least, Yanes and Borges seem better situated to outdo Sushi | Bar: the Austin-based omakase concept (which Philip Frankland Lee sold before launching Sushi by Scratch Restaurants) that last called 405 N. Wabash Avenue home. Save for the fact that this restaurant was directly competing with its doppelgänger (which had opened many months prior), the $185 omakase did little to capitalize on the more impulsive clientele in this area. Lady May, the Southern “cocktail parlor and eatery” that Sushi | Bar shared the space with, also failed to gain much traction.
Yet, on a warm Saturday evening, it’s hard to imagine a better place to be: blue sky, trees, a peek at the Wrigley Building’s bell tower, the energy of Michigan Avenue being channeled through this slender corridor. While the benches outside Nic + Junior’s are lined with pedestrians of all stripes, the restaurant cuts a more stately figure. The imposing structure—gray and black metal, blinds drawn—seems set apart from this outside world even as a placard announces they are now open. A patio, positioned around the corner, sits unused (and how might it serve to bring some of these people through the door?).
Nonetheless, stepping through the revolving door, one finds the brightly illuminated, exotically clad bar area. It comprises a winding bar with more than a dozen stools positioned before vested staff, backlit shelving, glassware galore, and a solitary television (broadcasting golf on this occasion). Across from the counter (along the windows) one finds a series of slender booths that stretch toward the back wall and turn the corner, transforming into a larger banquette.
Details of note include lighter tones of wood (along the floor and paneled walls), dimpled cushions, the odd abstract painting, some potted plants, and a series of weighty lamps (positioned between the booths) featuring orb-shaped bases and fanciful illustrated shades. The room’s colors tend toward the neutral end of the spectrum: white, tan, gray, and black with touches of red (a wall near the entrance, grids of subway tile set ablaze by the underlit bar). That being said, the space’s showpiece displays no shortage of sparkle. This headlining accent takes the form of a recessed ceiling that covers most of the seating, illustrated with faint figures of clouds and animals and glowing (around its edges) a deep tone of yellow.
Overall, the bar area feels refined and luxurious enough (especially at night) to suit the prices being charged without being so foreboding that it’s going to dissuade anyone who happens to walk in. Admittedly, the shape of the space is a little weird: one doesn’t feel jammed against other guests, but the sightlines are short and the walkways are narrow. This matters little when diners have the sense that they are sneaking into a thriving, popular restaurant that would otherwise not be able to accommodate them. Nonetheless, at peak hours tonight, the tables (I count about 10 of them, mostly four-tops) are only half full. In the same manner, I count no more than five or six patrons seated at the bar at its busiest.
The dining room—with its open kitchen, solid furniture, white tablecloths, wavy tile, moody lighting, and frosted glass—sits entirely empty for the duration of the time I’m here. Yes, the restaurant’s most beautiful, most open, most signature accommodation remains totally unused as customers are seated in an area (pleasant enough) that feels more like a lobby by comparison.
I don’t fault the logic in trying to reserve this special space for those willing to pay $185 for the tasting menu. I think the bar room, in general, serves a vital function in making locals (some even dressed in athletic attire tonight) feel welcome in stopping by for a quick bite. Yet I do spy other patrons who are clearly dressed for a night out, and I wonder why (even if they have already decided they want to order à la carte) they wouldn’t be offered the chance to sit in a part of the restaurant that might really impress them. It would be good not only for self-promotion but for conjuring some greater sense life within the concept—even for those sequestered in the more approachable space.
As it stands, there’s something a bit awkward about sitting in the half-full, casual half of a restaurant that aspires toward fine dining. One almost wonders if the rest of the concept is still under construction, and even that thought is better than acknowledging they can’t secure a single reservation for the more premium experience.
I am not sure how Nic + Junior’s plans to suddenly bring this dining room to life. The tasting menu, to its credit, does accept walk-ins, and, surely, there’s some question of being able to appropriately staff this separate space on short notice. But I have to think the owners lose more by letting it sit empty than they gain from streamlining the concept and focusing solely on the bar.
Seating patrons (who are interested in the restaurant but unwilling to fully commit) at the center of all the action—allowing them to look good and feel good and transmit pictures of themselves doing so—surely offers more of a tangible benefit than any perceived exclusivity.
Thankfully, I have found that the front of house at Nic + Junior’s does their part to elevate the experience even when their efforts are restricted wholly to the bar.
The host, taller and broader-shouldered than whom you might see manning stands around town, radiates care and kindness. The bartenders are cheery and laidback, ready to make conversation with those posting up before them as they execute orders. One server, doubling as the sommelier, does an expert job handling bottles, sharing his knowledge, and keeping an eye on any glasses (fancy Riedel Supperleggero stems) that may run low. Another server, one of two taking care of the bar tables tonight, exudes patience and warmth. She’s the kind of professional—even if I have my lingering doubts about what will be served—that immediately puts me at ease.
I’ll admit that a couple of the dishes I order (out of 14 total) are not successfully transcribed and need to be inquired about. There’s also a strange exchange in which one of the barbacks forgets what cocktail they are delivering, describing it as a “passion fruit something” (there’s actually no passion fruit in it) and slipping away with the promise that “you’ll enjoy it.” Management is present, in turn, but focused more on operational concerns (in this case audibly instructing the bartenders) aside from the occasional visit to guest tables.
All that said, the staff-to-guest ratio here (one host, two servers, three behind the bar, and a manager for some 20 to 30 customers) is impressive. And, however one chooses to read into the emptiness of the dining room, there’s a positive spirit and sense of comfort (in working here) among the team. This is the kind of foundation of hospitality that Nic + Junior’s, if it gains in popularity, can certainly succeed upon.
Otherwise, before diving into the food, one must tangle with what to drink.
Cocktails at Nic + Junior’s are priced at $15 each and divided into two categories: “Classics” and “Modern Classics.” From the former, I have sampled a fairly average, too-bitter “Espresso Martini” (made with cold brew). However, from the latter, I have enjoyed a crisp, cohesive “Sake Southside” (made with sake, yuzu, shiso, and Japanese plum); a deep, rounded “N+J’s Martini” (a freezer-style rendition made with gin and a house vermouth blend); a full-textured, subtly sweetened “Mixed Blessings” (made with tequila, grape brandy, honey, and citrus); and a long, fresh, more bittersweet “Guilty Pleasure” (made with cachaça, aperol, lime, and sugar).
Ultimately, this is a strong showing for the “Modern Classics” category—I’d rank each of the drinks I tried as “good” to “very good.” Furthermore, pricing, relative to the neighborhood, is sharp, and pours, likewise, are generous. Cocktails form a part of the Nic + Junior’s experience you can count on, and they lend credence to the idea that the concept (at least half of it) can act as a standalone bar.
By comparison, I expected the wine selection to be more precarious. Just how much money does any new opening want to tie up in inventory? How will out-of-towners manage forge the right partnerships when even local operators struggle to source the right products?
The selections I found were pleasantly surprising given this context (if not totally mind-blowing):
- 2023 Weingut Brundlmayer Grüner Veltiner ($45 on the list, $19.99 at national retail)
- 2022 Presqu’ile “Presqu’ile Vineyard” Pinot Noir ($80 on the list, $34.99 at national retail)
- 2021 G.D. Vajra Barolo “Albe” ($85 on the list, $33.99 at local retail)
- 2023 Château de Sancerre Sancerre ($90 on the list, $44.99 at national retail)
- 2019 Weingut Robert Weil Riesling Spätlese ($95 on the list, $49.99 at national retail)
- 2022 Domaine de Montbourgeau L’Etoile “Les Budes” ($100 on the list, $53.99 at national retail)
- NV Gaston Chiquet Champagne “Tradition” Premier Cru Brut ($105 on the list, $52.50 at local retail)
- 2022 Bruno Giacosa Nebbiolo d’Alba ($105 on the list, $49.99 at national retail)
- 2021 Daniel-Etienne Defaix Chablis Vieilles Vignes ($108 on the list, $44.99 at national retail)
- 2023 Rudi Pichler “Hochrain” Grüner Veltliner Smaragd ($130 on the list, $63.95 at national retail)
- NV Canard-Duchene Champagne “Cuvée Léonie” Brut ($136 on the list, $44.93 at national retail)
- 2019 Altesino Brunello di Montalcino ($150 on the list, $52.99 at local retail)
- 2022 Cristom “Louise Vineyard” Pinot Noir ($150 on the list, $79.99 at local retail)
- NV Ruinart Champagne Brut Rosé ($160 on the list, $115 at local retail)
- 2016 Chateau Musar ($175 on the list, $85 at local retail)
- 2008 R. López de Heredia Rioja Reserva “Viña Tondonia” ($180 on the list, $57.99 at national retail)
- 2015 Château Rauzan-Ségla “Ségla” ($185 on the list, $79.99 at national retail)
- 2022 Domaine Tempier Bandol “La Tourtine” ($190 on the list, $89.95 at national retail)
- 2018 Ferrando Carema “Etichetta Bianca” ($210 on the list, $80 at national retail)
- 2018 Paolo Bea “Rosso de Véo” ($215 on the list, $84.95 at national retail)
- NV Billecart-Salmon Brut Rosé ($250 on the list, $99 at local retail)
The wine list at Nic + Junior’s features a wide range of popular grapes (Chardonnay, Pinot Grigio, Sauvignon Blanc, Riesling, Pinot Noir, Nebbiolo, Sangiovese, Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon, Syrah) along with a few more obscure choices (Assyrtiko, Grüner Veltliner, Savagnin, Tempranillo, Mourvèdre, Cabernet Franc, Sagrantino) all from classic regions and fairly well-known producers. There’s plenty of Champagne on offer, as well as bottles of all types (sparkling, white, red) at $50 or lower.
Markups for this particular sample range as high as 210% and as low as 39% on top of retail price (with a mean of 121% and a median of 111%). Surprisingly, it’s actually at the more expensive end of the spectrum that the premium charged begins to climb. This leads me to believe that the restaurant is intending for its markups to be closer to that magic 100% mark (effectively double retail price) and, perhaps, that some of the rarer, older wines are skewing things a bit. Indeed, I think it is telling that much of this selection cannot be found commercially in Chicago at present.
Overall, this opening wine list is far better than it needs to be. It balances a crowd-pleasing foundation with the kind of deep cuts that might appeal to a bonafide geek. It also signals that the restaurant intends to celebrate wine consumption rather than cynically view drinkers as a profit center. As Nic + Junior’s grows and adds to the lineup, this philosophy might positively make it a destination for oenophiles (something The Purple Pig and Shaw’s have certainly distinguished themselves as).
Otherwise, in combination with those cocktails, the beverage program here stands as a bright spot: verification that Yanes and Borges really do want to deliver some sense of approachability and value to their community.
With that, the food starts flowing.
First to arrive tonight is one of the “Dinner Snacks”—a category comprising three different bites (printed on a menu insert) that each come two to an order. The “Crispy Potato & Caviar” ($26) is the most expensive of the bunch. It’s also one of the items that appeared as part of the tasting menu’s opening salvo back in May. The combination here is simple: a fried, craggily rectangle of potato, a dab of requeijão (a kind of creamy Brazilian cheese), and a dollop of sturgeon caviar.
On the palate, the base of the bite displays a brittle exterior and a fluffy, fall-apart interior that yields well to the toppings. While the requeijão is expectedly rich and oozing, the caviar itself lands more on the wet, clumpy side. One gets little sense of the caviar’s “pop,” and the resulting flavor (rather than offering refined nutty tones) is straightforwardly briny. I also do not think there’s really enough intensity here to prevent the potato from tasting bland. Ultimately, I liked this snack a bit more when I encountered it last time. However, that was also in the context of four other (generally weaker) opening bites. This time, I’m left feeling that the “Crispy Potato & Caviar” isn’t really worth the price charged à la carte.
The “Wagyu Beef Tartare” ($11) that arrives next actually dates back to the menu at Meridian. This snack combines a shiso leaf, a layer of toasted rice, the titular meat, some “black truffle XO” (a play on the umami-laden seafood sauce), and a garnish of freshly microplaned black truffle to finish. The whole package, for the price, feels generous (even though, if viewed from the wrong angle, the bite looks a little roughly shapen).
When it reaches the tongue, the tartare displays a commendable smoothness that is hardly affected by the texture of the shiso. The toasted rice, in turn, seems to have lost any of its crunch, yet it adds some weight to the equation and helps to bind the beef and sauce. The XO smacks of salt and a mustard-like pungency. Any truffle, freshly shaven or otherwise, is hard to sense. Nonetheless, the dish ends on an enjoyably savory note, and I appreciate the seamless mouthfeel of this bite (which could have otherwise gotten rather messy).
Now turning to the “Antipasti” section of the menu, I come across another recipe that Borges honed at Meridian. There, the chef titled it “Tapioca Brazilian Cheese Fritter.” Here, it is termed “Dadinho” ($14), which refers to the “little dice” these bites are said to replicate. As has always been the case, these fried delights (taking more of a rectangular shape on this occasion) act as a canvas for cured meat (in this case mortadella), some pickles (rendered as giardiniera for Chicagoans), and Borges’s signature smoked hot sauce.
When it comes to presentation, this dish undoubtedly forms one of the restaurant’s prettiest, most engaging, plates. Enjoyed separately, the mortadella (gently warmed) displays a lovely tenderness, and the giardiniera (chunks of carrot, celery, and cauliflower but also string beans and biquinho peppers) offers a fine balance of crunch and tang. Compared to the crispy potato I encountered earlier, the dadinho maintains an even more brittle exterior with an interior (while still fluffy) that is richer on account of the cheese. The hot sauce is best applied to this inner portion of the fritter, where it strikes with real power (its burn lasting as long as three minutes) without totally overwhelming one’s tongue. Other than throwing the mortadella into mix here (where some of its delicacy gets lost opposite all the heat and crunch), I’m not exactly sure how all of these elements come together in one cohesive bite. That said, the various components are still a pleasure to graze on, and I think this form—so unique—demonstrates an enduring quality.
The ”Kohlrabi Caesar” ($14) also featured at Meridian, and it makes sense that the chef would want to hold onto such an inventive rendition of a beloved (almost infamous at this point) salad. Borges combines the titular cabbage with mixed lettuces and mint. Dressing takes the form of a “fried egg aioli” while toasted breadcrumbs, aged pecorino, and chives form the finishing touch.
On the palate, the salad possesses an admirable degree of crunch: one drawn primarily from the thin discs of kohlrabi but amplified by the smaller leaves and bits you strike when working your way through the bowl. The flavor here, all things considered, is particularly light and bright. It lacks the kind of concentrated umami that is a signature of the Caesar (and, I think it is worth mentioning, Meridian put that term in quotation marks on their menu). Neither the fried egg element (which is altogether hard to pick out) nor the pecorino does much to help. Rather, reaching the bottom of the salad, one finds an excess of dressing that makes the remaining bites even tangier. At the end of the day, this is not an unpleasant dish. However, it is also not remarkable, and it plays against expectations that usually make this recipe a crowd-pleaser.
The last of the “Dinner Snacks” arrives at this moment: a set of “Snow Crab Claws” ($16) topped with pepperoni chili crunch. This bite also appeared as part of my tasting menu in May, where it stood among the middle of pack (within the opening sequence of five items that was served).
Tonight, the crustacean displays about the same quality. Its flesh is cool and tender enough on entry, being matched by the faint snap of the salami and the smaller, more brittle pieces of chili crunch. All said, one doesn’t really taste the sweetness of the crab or any porky, savory notes from the pepperoni. Rather, there’s a trace of spice that comes through on the finish in what is otherwise a forgettable (if totally inoffensive) offering.
That word—inoffensive—is key, for the next two preparations of seafood from the “Antipasti” section of the menu represent the low point evening. Given that these were the two dishes that the server failed to transcribe and had to be reminded about, I almost wonder if she was trying to save me from a bad experience.
The “1/2 Dozen Oysters” ($21) should be easy enough: hard to distinguish but also hard to mess up. I’m intrigued by the chosen dressing here: bergamot and a “Barolo mignonette.” The source of the bivalves is not stated, yet they are subtly cupped and somewhat unevenly fragmented around the rim. A couple of them possess a particularly large black segment attached to their meat—something I haven’t seen before (and which may just be part of the mantle) but that I remove. When shooting the oyster, the resulting mouthfeel is vaguely slimy and very faintly tangy. Even after finishing the rest, I find nothing of interest here. Thankfully, they do not make me sick.
A take on “Hamachi Crudo” ($17) also needs little help, in theory, to impress. Borges’s use of finger lime, kalamata olive, and micro basil to dress the dish sounds promising (that is, somewhat bold but still fairly conventional). However, coating the bottom of the plate in requeijão (that same creamy cheese from the “Crispy Potato & Caviar”) makes little sense. Cold, thick, and bland, this element overwhelms any delicacy the hamachi and its accompaniments might have shown. This is particularly unfortunate, for the fish is cleaner and texturally far more pleasant than the oyster. Once more, I am left tasting nothing even after downing a few slices. This is bizarre.
Thankfully, with the turn toward the “Handmade Pastas” section of the menu, there is a bit of redemption. Though in retrospect I regret not trying the “Spaghetti Moqueca” (knowing this recipe, in its varied forms, to be one of Borges’s signatures), I figure a fairly classic “Rigatoni Vodka” ($22) is a safe test.
The version at Nic + Junior’s draws on Calabrian chili (like Carbone’s version) and adds crispy garlic, basil, and a dollop of stracciatella for added character. Nonetheless, the recipe does not veer off in any unexpected direction. Indeed, the noodles themselves are cooked to a nice al dente, and the chosen ingredients meld to form a creamy, almost mac-and-cheesy consistency with hints of heat and vinegar on the finish. Overall, I’m not sure this competes with the very best examples of the recipe in Chicago; however, it is a good, dependable version of the dish that signals how seriously the kitchen approaches its work with pasta.
Moving into the “Mains,” I decide to try three dishes. The first, a “Half-Roasted Piri Piri Chicken” ($33) should probably be titled “Roasted Piri Piri Half-Chicken.” I order it without fully realizing that it has replaced a “Chicken Piri Piri Parmigiano” that sounded more interesting online.
Nonetheless, the bird itself is beautifully rendered with a crispy (bordering pleasantly on charred) layer of skin and tender, juicy flesh throughout the various cuts. The piri piri influence—bright and surprisingly mild when it comes to heat—is skillfully managed. And the serving of eggplant caponata with tomatoes that coats the bottom of the plate (soaking up the chicken’s juices) offers harmonizing sweet, stewed flavors. In sum, it’s hard to fault this dish—the cook and seasoning is spot on.
An ”8 Oz. Wagyu Bavette” ($43) does even better: in fact, it ranks as the highlight of the meal. That’s a big compliment in a city that is awash in good (as well as a few truly great) steaks. I opt for this cut (as opposed to the “12 Oz. Wagyu New York Strip”) on account of its accompanying ramp salsa verde.
Visually, the meat arrives blushing pink and beautifully arranged with flakes of salt and a scattering of its chunky dressing. The heap of fries doesn’t look half bad either. On the palate, the steak feels remarkably tender and juicy yet retains a pleasing trace of structure. The beef’s savory flavor, drawn out by the salt, is beautifully matched by the tang and sharpness of the cilantro-ramp combination. Throw in a handful of the spuds, nicely seasoned in their own right, and one is left with a butcher’s cut of wagyu (though certainly an American variety) that delivers an outsized degree of enjoyment. Well done.
Finally, there’s the “Double Burger” ($22): another take on a form that has thoroughly saturated the city’s dining scene. Besides the dual patties, Nic + Junior’s draws on a toasted milk roll, dijonnaise, caramelized onions, pickles, and melted fontina to distinguish its recipe.
The result—crowned with salt—looks delightfully messy, and I certainly appreciate how the dense, well-seasoned bun serves to hold everything together. That said, the beef itself is gray and lifeless, and, rather than offering juicy excess, the double patties feel like extra filler. They mute whatever sweetness and tang the toppings might hope to offer, leading to a flavor sensation that is vaguely savory but in no way explosive (as any burger, looking to stand among Chicago’s offerings, must aspire toward).
Of the four “Sweets” on offer tonight, I sample three of them.
The “Soft Serve” ($9) is rendered in a stracciatella flavor and dressed with shaved chocolate and a drizzle of lemon oil. Texturally, the ice cream isn’t quite as luscious or silky as the style promises. Rather, while still soft, there’s a trace of density and coldness that lingers. That said, the faintly cheesy, faintly sweet base flavor in combination with crunching chocolate and citric tang works well enough. This dish just doesn’t reach the level of being memorable.
A preparation of “Warm Chocolate Chip Cookies & Milk” ($8) looks to stake its claim on the back of a classic, nostalgic pairing. The cookies themselves are soft and absorptive with a bold dose of salt that really helps the sweetness of the dough and the cocoa shine. The milk, by comparison, is somewhat undistinguished. It is served at a tepid temperature rather than being cold enough to really contrast the warmth of the cookies. Otherwise, the dish remains more or less satisfying.
Finally, there’s the headliner: a “Brigadeiro Tiramisu” ($14) that references the traditional Brazilian confection made from condensed milk, cocoa powder, and butter topped with chocolate sprinkles. For this preparation, Borges combines layers of requeijão and chocolate-espresso cream with a garnish of hazelnuts and plenty of those same sprinkles. Texturally, I find this tiramisu to be firmer and more gelatinous than the light, fluffy examples I typically favor. However, I understand this density—cut by the crunch of the toppings—is meant to replicate the fudgy mouthfeel of the brigadeiro itself. Likewise, I definitely appreciate the correspondingly rich flavors (of cheese, chocolate, nuts, and subtle roasted coffee) at hand. Ultimately, this is a dessert of distinct character, and it clearly ranks as the best of the bunch.
An hour and a half later, the meal has reached its conclusion. The check arrives without any service charge or auto-gratuity—just the standard tip line we all know and love. The staff, certainly, has earned their keep even if the food tonight has sometimes faltered.
With that, it is time to leave. It’s only a short walk along the bar, through the door, and back out into a bustling summer scene of city life. My exit is punctuated by a warm farewell—and it is most welcome—but Nic + Junior’s, as I step outside, feels totally estranged from the energy I now feel. Despite the best intentions, the restaurant is still trying to find its place.
At the end of the day, I do not regret giving Nic + Junior’s another look. Ordering à la carte, I cannot say I was convinced to come back again any time soon. Just the same, on the back of service, beverage, and a few enjoyable dishes, I was left with a vaguely positive impression that (while destined to be forgotten) wouldn’t necessarily stop me from returning if the conditions were right.
To be honest, I’m not sure the concept would be my first choice if I found myself in the area. I’d pick The Purple Pig for the wine, Shaw’s for the food, or walk a couple more blocks to Joe’s for both. Instead, it would probably take Borges leading the kitchen in the creation of a special menu on a particular night (he splits his time between Chicago and Texas), imbuing the cuisine with that extra degree of precision and personality. As it stands, I did not see the chef across either of my visits—and that’s no crime (given I can say the same about a few of the city’s top names). However, hearing Borges tell his story and seeing him engage with guests would certainly build goodwill even if there are still kinks to work out in the kitchen.
Otherwise, would a larger change in the menu’s offerings appeal to me? I must admit that on both occasions, I was vexed by the difference between what I saw online and what was actually available on site. I’ve already mentioned how this relates to the tasting menu, but, even à la carte, I found that dishes like the “Yuca Croquetta,” “Pão De Queijo,” “Italian Chicories,” and “Arancini” had been excised tonight and not replaced.
Following my visit, I’ve seen that Nic + Junior’s has published a new menu filled with a range of different recipes: “Picolino Cucumber,” “Apricot” (with aged prosciutto), “Dadinho & Caviar,” a new version of the “Beef Tartare,” a new trio of pastas (like “Yuca Gnocchi”), a couple new mains (“Half Rack of Lamb,” “Catalpa Grove Pork Loin”), and a few sides. Call it bad timing, but I would have loved to sample some of these items—especially the smaller bites—rather than rehashing creations that had already been transferred over to the tasting menu to replace other, more interesting courses.
Ultimately, Borges has a pretty vast canon of snackable preparations to draw on from Meridian: things like the “Yucca Fries,” “Grilled ‘Beach’ Cheese,” “Sesame Garlic Pancake,” “Pastel,” “Empada,” and “Sonora Tartlet.” Centering the Nic + Junior’s menu on these items, while shying away from unnecessary luxury ingredients, would provide the kind of foundation on which more straightforward (though still Brazilian-inflected) pastas and meats could shine without taking undue risks. Doing so would fit the casual atmosphere of the bar room (where most guests are currently sitting) while also invigorating the moodier dining room (if ever used for à la carte) with a greater sense of fun. After all, the tasting menu begins with a selection of these snacks anyway.
As I rank this evening’s dishes, one gets a sense of the potential (as well as the pitfalls) of the current model:
I would place the “Half-Roasted Piri Piri Chicken,” “8 Oz. Wagyu Bavette,” and “Brigadeiro Tiramisu” in the highest category: very good recipes, sharply executed, that yielded a memorable degree of pleasure.
The “Dadinho,” “Rigatoni Vodka,” and “Warm Chocolate Chip Cookies & Milk” come next: good items that I would order again but, in turn, did not make much of a lasting impression.
Next, the “Crispy Potato & Caviar,” “Wagyu Beef Tartare,” “Caesar,” “Snow Crab Claws,” “Double Burger,” and “Soft Serve” stand as merely good—or maybe somewhat average—preparations that might have shown minor flaws or otherwise did not offer much pleasure. I would probably skip most of them on a subsequent visit.
Finally, the “1/2 Dozen Oysters” and “Hamachi Crudo” rank at the bottom: below-average dishes that were hard to finish (and that left me with a bit of an uncertain, queasy feeling). I would avoid these.
Overall, this makes for a hit-rate of 43% (if one, I think validly, excludes the third category). Still, that’s a tough number to stomach when talking about a new opening, and I think it is worth highlighting that the pasta, mains, and desserts all fared generally well. Yes, pick the right snacks (which do offer some novelty even if they didn’t deliver a second time) and appetizers, and you can carve out an enjoyable enough time.
Yet, two months in, it’s fair to say that Nic + Junior’s is still finding its feet. The restaurant, on the back of cheery service and fairly priced drinks, is equipped to please those who live nearby and crave something a little different. On the back of the aforementioned pastas and meats (as well as other salads and sandwiches I trust are executed better), the concept also seems well positioned to satisfy all manner of tourists who are looking for something nicer, with a bit more personality, among the area’s sea of casual options.
Nonetheless, when one considers the $185 tasting menu (and all its corresponding expectations) or—simply—the prospect of traveling here from elsewhere in the city (and bypassing scores of esteemed “contemporary American” concepts), the restaurant comes up short.
Undoubtedly, there’s value in this intersection of Brazilian, Italian, and seasonal Midwestern cuisines (that’s what got me through the door in the first place). Borges also has enough of a reputation and personality to make an imprint on our dining scene.
Nic + Junior’s just needs to play to its strengths—clever bites that speak to the chef’s journey, twists on traditional forms that don’t resort to lazy flourishes of luxury—and respond to what can be seen on the ground: a tasting menu nobody wants to splurge for (at least on the two nights I was there) that precludes the use of an otherwise attractive, possibly memorable (or at least promotable) dining room.
All that said, I really appreciate that the restaurant’s flaws are largely due to being too aspirational—to the bad luck involved in me maybe encountering a tired menu on the brink of change—rather than any real cynicism or the desire to fleece Chicagoans with a thoughtless product.
Yanes and Borges have taken an all-too-rare leap by opening a unique concept here. This can never excuse errors in the execution or quality of food. However, based on the kind of value the chefs are generally providing, it does earn them some patience.
If Nic + Junior’s is committed to the long haul and sensitive to what this city—not just those living nearby or passing through—really wants from it, the restaurant could carve out a place for itself. Its singular niche could very well shine, and, despite a couple middling experiences, I would like to see it do so.