Pompette is a narrow room in Bucktown with a couple of plants and globe lights strung overhead, running all day from breakfast through dinner. The small plates carry a pedigree that shows in the plating without showing off: crab croquettes set on saffron aioli, grilled shrimp paired with butternut squash, a spaghetti tossed in mushroom cream that reads simple and isn't. The kitchen is staffed by cooks who came up at Alinea, Elske, and Moody Tongue, and that training surfaces as precision, not spectacle.
What makes it work is restraint. Nothing on the menu is trying to be the most interesting dish in Chicago. It's food built for repeat visits, for the friend catch-up over brunch that turns into another catch-up over dinner a month later. The small-plate format keeps the table moving and the mood light, which is exactly what a wine bar in a residential pocket of Bucktown should be doing.
The Bib Gourmand recognition from Michelin confirms what the food already argues: this is a place operating well above its size and its prices. It's not chasing a tasting-menu reputation. It's making a strong, consistent case for itself as a neighborhood fixture, and it wins that case.
