For the culinary adventurer seeking a Midwestern metamorphosis of fine dining, Smyth offers a two Michelin-starred journey in Chicago’s West Loop—a sanctuary where chefs John and Karen Urie Shields transform humble Midwestern ingredients into a symphony of smoke, fermentation, and unexpected poetry. Nestled beside its sibling gastropub The Loyalist, this industrial-chic temple redefines farm-to-table through hyper-local foraging, zero-waste rigor, and a tasting menu that oscillates between earthy nostalgia and futuristic flair.

The Vibe Check


Smyth thrums with the quiet intensity of a modern art studio—raw, cerebral, and charged with possibility.


  • Atmosphere: Exposed brick walls, custom ceramic tableware, and a stainless steel open kitchen where chefs torch hay-smoked carrots and arrange edible flowers like abstract paintings. Lighting dims to spotlight each dish as it arrives, while playlists blend ambient electronica with field recordings of Illinois prairies.
  • Dress Code: Smart-casual edge—black denim, structured blazers, boots that’ve tread both soybean fields and Fulton Market’s cobblestones.
  • Soundtrack: The hiss of hay hitting flames, the crunch of house-milled ancient grains, and servers narrating ingredient origins like biographers: “This ramp was foraged 87 miles southwest, near Chef Karen’s childhood farm.”


This is where the Shields—James Beard Award-winning partners in life and kitchen—elevate corn, duck, and even dandelions into haute cuisine.

A Legacy Forged in Fire and Fermentation


Opened in 2016, Smyth earned two Michelin stars by 2018 for its “uncompromising vision of Midwestern terroir.” The Shields’ philosophy? “Let the land lead.” Ingredients come from their 3-acre farm in nearby La Fox, Illinois, and partnerships with Amish growers. Dishes like hay-smoked sweetbreads and fermented black garlic ice cream showcase their dual mastery of hearth and science.


Key to the ethos: Nothing wasted. Carrot tops become pesto, whey from house-churned butter ferments into marinades, and even dish scraps feed their compost. The 2024 menu introduced a “Wilderness Course” featuring invasive species like garlic mustard and Asian carp.

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Signature Acts


  • The Applewood Oyster: Kumamoto nestled in a smoked apple mignonette, served on a bed of charred corn silk.
  • Duck, Two Ways: Hay-smoked breast with fermented cherry glaze + confit heart “taco” in a crispy sunchoke shell.
  • The Loyalist Bread Service: Sourdough from Smyth’s sibling pub, paired with duck fat butter and ash-roasted onion dip.
  • Campfire S’mores: Deconstructed with birch syrup marshmallow, 85% chocolate soil, and cedar-infused cream..


Menu


  • The Smyth Experience ($285): 12 courses, including optional supplements like white truffle shaved over hay-infused risotto (+$120).
  • Bar Tasting ($185): 6 courses at the chef’s counter, with front-row views of the flaming hearth.


Wine Pairings


  • Discovery ($150): Natural wines from Midwest mavericks (Illinois’s Wild Blossom mead) and European outliers.
  • Zero-Proof Journey ($95): Fermented teas, smoked shrub tonics, and foraged herb infusions.

Practical Intel


  • Reservations: Book via Tock 28 days ahead. Last-minute seats occasionally open via SMS waitlist.
  • Dress: “Thoughtful casual”—no ties, but your outfit should whisper I know what amaro is.
  • Find: 177 N Ada St, Chicago. A graffiti-tagged door in the West Loop’s culinary corridor.

Pro Tips


  • Post-Meal Nightcap: Slip into The Loyalist next door for a “Lamb Face” burger and whisky-based cocktails.
  • Seasonal Timing: Visit October-November for the “Forest Floor” course featuring 20+ wild mushrooms.
  • Souvenir: Grab a jar of their house-fermented hot sauce from the host stand.

Why It Resonates


  • For the Purist: Menus change weekly based on farm harvests—no two visits alike.
  • For the Philosopher: Dishes like “Soil” (beetroot, bone marrow, charred hay) question what “Midwestern” means.
  • For the Romantic: Request the kitchen counter for proposal-worthy theater—the Shields often hand-deliver courses.

Smyth isn’t a meal—it’s a manifesto. A place where Illinois’ black soil becomes black gold, where chefs wield blowtorches like paintbrushes, and every bite whispers: “This is the Midwest, but not as you know it.” For those craving cuisine that’s equal parts roots and revolution, this West Loop marvel is where Chicago’s soul gets reinvented.