Trio grand

WHITE PARTY Chef/owner Michael Carlson (left), sous chef Nathan Klingbail (center) and co-owner Keri Putney (right) in their minimalist dining room.

Somebody must be reading my diary—somehow the owners of Schwa know exactly what makes me happy. Wicker Park's tiny new blink-and-you'll-miss-it restaurant (formerly Lovitt) is as intimate as it gets: crisp white walls with soothing sage-green accents, vintage crystal chandeliers, a handful of "air plants" tacked to a wall for an organic touch and a rectangular porthole into the kitchen offering a glimpse of the two-man show.

Chef-owner Michael Carlson and sous chef Nathan Klingbail do the familiar tiny-kitchen dance, while Carlson's girlfriend and co-owner Keri Putney handles the two dozen patrons. None of the three are older than 30, they don't seem fazed by the constantly packed room, and they play underground hip-hop in a setting where well-heeled foodies ooh and aah over the decidedly upscale eats.

No doubt about it, Carlson and Klingbail can cook. Season is at the forefront of dishes prepared in a contemporary Mediterranean style some have been dubbing new American. In a play on the classic Italian apple-and-celery salad, perfectly briny white anchovies are layered with paper-thin Granny Smiths, crisp celery, Spanish Manchego cheese and celery-root matchsticks. A drizzle of slightly sweet celery-root puree and bright olive oil completes a dish that's the epitome of early fall. Apples show up again on the diver scallop entrée: three giant scallops, toasty-brown at the edges and perfectly opaque in the center, with thinly sliced raw fennel and diced, spiced apples. A shot glass of warm apple cider topped with a dried apple slice seals the deal.

The prosciutto consommé's translucence may fool you, but this warm, thin soup packs plenty of flavor. A few cantaloupe balls float in the consommé and more are hidden inside ribbons of basil and prosciutto that sit on the bowl's edge. In another starter, a soft-boiled egg is coated in crispy brioche crumbs. When you cut into it, the yolk oozes out, running into smooth potato puree and Illinois sturgeon caviar resting on creme fraiche. It's such a clever play on the toast-eggs-potatoes combo that I'm wishing Schwa was open for breakfast.

Carlson makes pasta like a guy who's cooked in Italy, which he has. He's also cooked at Trio (under Grant Achatz) and Spiaggia, so perfect pasta comes as no surprise. The flawless risotto classically matches fresh artichoke with zesty lemon, adding plump shrimp for oomph. Going three-for-three with Italian dishes is the quail-egg ravioli, in which al dente pasta circles encasing poached quail eggs swim in a lappable sage-brown butter sauce, and are topped with shavings of Parmigiano-Reggiano.

Of the entire debut menu (which will change every few weeks), only two dishes faltered: The chorizo stuffing that filled the deboned quail was blah, almost indistinguishable in texture and flavor from the quail itself; and the vegan roast's dry seitan hockey pucks reinforced why I eat meat.

Two flops in otherwise perfect experiences (did I mention it's BYOB?) I can swallow. This is the type of restaurant Chicago needs more of: creative, independent, locally supportive gems run by true talents. But then I'd only have my love life to complain about in my diary.

Schwa1466 N Ashland Ave between Julian and LeMoyne Sts (773-252-1466). El: Blue to Division. Bus: 8, 50, 70. Dinner (closed Sun). Average main course: $21.