Small Plates, Big Flavors at Kurah Mediterranean Tapas Restaurant

I must confess that I am usually not one for small plates. The idea of ordering a slew of diminutive dishes and being coerced by servers into sharing them is not something I often look for at dinner. It reminds me too much of when I would have to hide my favorite foods in the kitchen so my dad wouldn't eat them. So it takes a truly special tapas place to catch my attention. Or if I'm just not that hungry, in which case I don't really mind sharing. I'm not a monster. One of the most revelatory small plates experiences I've had of late was at Kurah Mediterranean Tapas, a glistening new tapas temple restaurant in the South Loop. The plates may be dainty, but each one packs enough bold flavor to tide me over and prevent me from stabbing my dining mates with a fork tine.

There's a lot more to Kurah than meets the eye. I can actually see the restaurant from my apartment window, and from an outsider's vantage point it looks like a pretty generic Mediterranean spot trying to make the concept of "Mediterranean tapas" sound more cutting edge than it is. Stepping through the door, you'll quickly find that Kurah is a much more immersive, legitimate experience. The space feels like something out of Aladdin, resplendent in billowy drapes, flickering candles, dark wood floors, sprawling ceilings, and the general sense that you're dining in a Mediterranean palace with a Sultan or two. Diners can watch the cooks at work in the partially open kitchen, which is utterly pristine and far more formal than it probably needs to be. For such a nondescript, accessible restaurant, the kitchen looks like something out of Thomas Keller's pantheon. There's also a very well-stocked, immaculate bar running along the north wall that would make for a very classy neighborhood watering hole. For the most transportive experience, pray that you're led upstairs and seated alongside the balcony overlooking the restaurant. Like royalty being hoisted upon a throne, dining here is a regal occasion.

(Bacon-wrapped dates)

Speaking of transportive experiences, Kurah does a masterful job of whisking diners away on magic carpet rides via razor-sharp Mediterranean flavors. I can't recall eating such meticulous-yet-slightly-outre Mediterranean flavors in a long time. Whereas many Med spots melt into monotony with their cookie-cutter hummus and falafel, Kurah stands out by thoughtfully modernizing Mediterranean staples and augmenting them with unique creations all their own. A good keystone of Mediterranean cuisine by which to measure a restaurant's merits is baba ghanoush. Or anything pureed, creamy, and spreadable really. But I'm an eggplant freak so that settles things. Kurah's rosemary-infused rendition is satiny smooth and blissfully balanced, marrying macerated eggplant with housemade yogurt to land a bulls-eye between bitter and tangy. Hummus is decent too, but if you're going to spring for blended beans, make it the fava bean dip, packed with more vibrancy from the garlic, lemon juice, olive oil, fresh mint, and diced tomatoes. I'm actually not even a fan of tabouli usually. More often than not, I find it far too astringent, and it tastes the way depressing feels. But when in Rome... True to form, Kurah hits another home run by tempering this typical parsley bomb of a dish with just the right amount of luscious pomegranate vinaigrette. My favorite dish on the menu is one that might induce eye rolls. Bacon-wrapped dates sound a lot more pedestrian than their name implies, when in fact Kurah is serving up the best dates Chicago has seen since avec first introduced them to chorizo. This is the one small plate that feels in no way small. Plump, chewy Medjool dates are filled to the gills with pecan-studded goat cheese, wrapped in applewood-smoked bacon, and glazed with pomegranate syrup. One date is roughly the size of a slider, and equally as filling. Albeit a tad sweet and sticky, these are the most habit-forming items on the menu, perfectly representative of Kurah's knack for tradition-meets-novelty. Stuffed grape leaves were the only stumble on the menu, a tad boring and lackluster, even when filled with rice and beef. It's like the kitchen grew tired of pushing envelopes by the time they picked up the grape leaves. Don't miss desserts though. In lieu of your standard Mediterranean puffed pastry provisions, Kurah displays a serious affinity for confectionary craft with dishes such as fig and pistachio phyllo purses, date-glazed doughnut holes, and the real standout, rose-infused flan with a chocolate-covered candied fig. Mexican restaurants can learn a thing or two about flan from this Mediterranean joint, which clearly knows how to execute a silky smooth custard that toes the line between eggy and sweet.

(Rose-infused flan. Photo: Kurah Mediterranean Tapas)