Le Colonial
Jarrett Chen
Tucked away on Chicago’s Oak Street and nestled in the swanky Gold Coast neighborhood of Chicago sits a place that feels as if it was plucked from another world entirely. Le Colonial isn’t just a restaurant; it’s a gentle step back in time to a distant continent. Walk through its doors and you’re met with the rustle of palm leaves and the hush of natural light pouring through open windows, inspired by the French occupation of Vietnam.
On a quiet Tuesday afternoon, the dining room held a calm that made you forget, if only for a moment, the unseasonably cold Chicago wind trying to freeze your face outside. The service? Impeccable. Within five minutes, three different waiters stopped by, each offering a smile and the quiet assurance that we were in good hands.
Interior of the restaurant
Although I was already buzzing with anticipation for the meal to come, I started simple with a Vietnamese coffee, or "rocket fuel for the day," as my aunt put it. It was rich, flavorful, and hit all the right notes. Within my first sip, I was pulled back to childhood pho lunches with family, sneaking cautious tastes from my dad’s glass, not yet old enough to have my own coffee, but already hooked on the ritual.
Next came the appetizers, both recommended with conviction by our waitress. First up: the Chả Giò, or crispy shrimp and pork rolls. A blend of shrimp, pork, and mushrooms tucked into golden, crackly wrappers. Each roll came wrapped in fresh lettuce, paired with pickled vegetables, and dipped into a tangy, flavorful sauce. Just as our waitress promised, these were easily some of the best spring rolls I’ve ever had. Crunchy, savory, fresh. Each bite was perfect.
Then came the Gỏi Bún Sò, a seared sea scallop salad that announced itself before it even hit the table. The scallops carried a buttery aroma that wrapped the entire room with its warmth. The salad was the perfect bundle of everything I love: crisp greens, sugar snap peas, soft noodles, and a vibrant, zesty lime vinaigrette tying it all together. I paused, halfway through, already certain, this meal was only just getting started.
Chả Giò (Front) and Gỏi Bún Sò (Rear)
Then came the main event – a trio of dishes that turned our table into a full-on feast.
We started with the Bánh Xào, a shrimp noodle stir-fry that reminded me much of a Pad See Ew with its silky wide noodles, a subtle smoky char, and just the right balance of sweet and savory. Comforting, familiar, and really, really good.
Next was the Cà Ri Gà, a Vietnamese chicken curry that was more of a vibrant stew than anything else. Thick, rich, and packed with surprises – we spent a good few minutes trying to identify everything inside. Turns out, it was filled with eggplant, mango, and yam, among other things. A bit of a smorgasbord of textures and flavors, but somehow it worked. Hearty, cozy, and definitely interesting to say the least.
But the Bò Lúc Lắc – the shaking beef – was the clear standout. Cubes of tender filet mignon that melted in your mouth, cooked to perfection, and bursting with flavor. It was the kind of dish that makes you pause mid-bite just to savor it a little longer.
Array of main plates
We couldn’t resist leaving without a sweet street, thus came the Chè Chuối, a tapioca pudding that felt like a hug in dessert form. Warm coconut tapioca made a silky, lightly sweet base, crowned with golden caramelized banana. Toasted sesame seeds and coconut chips added just enough crunch, while a drizzle of crème anglaise tied it all together. It was both familiar and new – the perfect closing to a meal that had already carried us far from home.
Che Chuoi Organic Tapioca Pudding
It ended up being quite a long lunch – one of those slow, lingering meals where time slips away between bites and stories. Between courses, my aunt, cousin, and I chatted about my cousin’s college options – New Jersey, Indiana, maybe somewhere further. And as we sat there surrounded by lush palms, sipping coffee and savoring seared scallops, we couldn’t help but laugh: meals like this wouldn’t be on the menu in either of those places.
But that’s what made it special. Le Colonial gave us more than just great food – it gave us a moment. A moment to take a break from the hecticness of UChicago, taste something from far away, and just the chance to simply sit together and catch up. Tucked between luxury stores, it’s easy to miss. But on the inside, there’s something much more difficult to come by – warmth and a simple beauty that lingers far beyond the last bite.