Seasons Bar, Four Seasons Hotel | Chicago

By pdo | Published: May 22, 2009

Club chairs, wasabi peas, full-height tables — the Seasons Bar is definitely a good hotel bar.  And there are drinks.

Olive, suspended above Ipod
Creative Commons License photo credit: wickenden

Lisa orders a glass of Champagne.  I ask for a martini.  Waiter arrives with a bottle of Taittinger and a condensation-covered, silver shaker.  He opens the wine, pours Lisa a glass, puts the bottle on our table, gives my drink another shake, pours it over a chilled glass already containing three skewered olives, and bids us farewell.  The Taittinger bottle remains.  Our eyebrows raise (my left slightly more than my right).  What did we order?

We settle in.  What’s the worst that could happen?  We point out the mistake?  We polish off a good bottle of wine?  Maybe it’s free?  We relax in our comfortable chairs, grab a wasabi pea or two.  Nobody is jostling next to us.  There’s no smell of fresh vomit wafting in from the back.  The bartender isn’t some college-aged douche looking for a lay.  Things are good.

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The Plaza at Park Grill | Millennium Park, Chicago

By pdo | Published: May 9, 2009

Summer comes and Millennium Park trades its ice rink for al fresco drinking (or dining).  Which means there’s a handrail around this place inhibiting entrance.  For some reason, it also means the cups are plastic.  And perhaps the bartenders are skating instructors and that’s why cocktails are so difficult.

Come here for two reason.  One, you like large beers (32 oz.) and cheap wine (potentially from box).  Two, you want to get a drink in Millennium Park.  The setting is great — plentiful tables, colorful umbrellas, great view of Michigan Ave, etc.  The martinis … are off.

Cloud Gate
Creative Commons License photo credit: James Jordan

Mark orders two dirty martinis —one gin, one vodka.  Bartender leaves to make them (the actual bar is quite long), comes back and asks, “You want these on the rock?”  “Sure,” Mark says, playing along.  “Olives?” asks the bartender.  “Definitely.”  The bartender leaves in search of olives.

The olives arrive skewered, wrapped in a napkin.  The cocktails are pure booze, crystal clear, nothing dirty about them at all.  We retreat to our beautiful table.  “This is not a cocktail place,” concludes Mark.

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Feliz Cinco de Mayo, that’s Happy May 5th | North America, All of It

By Grayson III | Published: May 5, 2009

Happy Cinco de Mayo, the day when Mexicans get to act like the Irish and everybody acts like Mexicans.  And by Mexicans, I mean “Mexicans.”

Do Mexicans go to Taco Bell?  No.  But a million drunk college kids will tonight while they act authentico, the same college students that get blitzed off Irish Car Bombs on St. Patrick’s day, just like true “Dubliners.”

So what should you do?  Whatever you want.  Holidays are excuses, and that’s what makes them great.

Double trouble
Creative Commons License photo credit: Lachlan Hardy

Have a margarita, eat a taco, enjoy the melting pot that is America, and rethink your stance on the border fence.  You really want less of this fantastic culture around?  God bless North America — all of it.

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Publican | West Loop, Chicago

By pdo | Published: April 28, 2009

“If you need a place for your purse,” the waiter stated, “there is a shelf below the seat of your chair.”

“I love this place already,” the wife-to-be responded.

They had thought of everything.  EXCEPT idiot men that put their umbrellas on said shelf only to walk out light and free, without a care in the world, and without umbrella.  Small price to pay.

IMG_6645.JPG
Creative Commons License photo credit: happy_stomach

Attention to detail is the deal here.  Order a bloody Mary, get a beer-back (or beer chaser).  Get the Weiswurst, you get the traditional accompaniments of mustard and giant pretzel.  The bathrooms have separate stalls and a communal sink.  There’s teak everywhere.  The ceiling is covered with softly glowing globes.  And then there’s the bacon.

The bacon is 10x thicker than any bacon you’ve ever had.  It’s BACON.  Punch you in the face (or heart?) bacon.  And it’s great.  Get a side.  And get a booth.

There are three seating options at Publican — big, shared teak tables; tall, pub tables without chairs but with coat hooks below the tabletop; and entirely enclosed, you need to open the gate the enter, booths.  Next time I will require a booth.  And bacon.  And any drink that comes with a beer-back.

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B.L.U.E.S. | Chicago, IL

By pdo | Published: April 26, 2009

I’ve got the quit-making-out-in-front-of-me-and-rubbing-each-others’-legs-and-standing-up-from-your-stools-and-bumping-into-me-you-gross-old-people-from-the-suburbs-that-have-had-too-much-to-drink-and-should-just-get-a-room-and-I-know-that’s-what-you’re-thinking-because-I-just-saw-you-pop-a-Viagra blues.  Deh dah-dah dum dah-dum dah-dum …

Neon Blues

Creative Commons License photo credit: swanksalot

So I was feeling the blues, and Carlos Johnson spoke to my soul, though his actual blues source may have been different than mine.  Great band.  Good bar.  Attentive waitresses.  The crowd …

The crowd was wild.  Seemed to be mostly local with all age groups represented, but there was a good chunk of the suburbs represented and a group of Asian tourists.  I took the tourists as a good sign.  The ‘burbs … there’s something about peeps from the ‘burbs.  Maybe it’s because they don’t drink because they need to drive and they end up sitting a little too stiffly.  Maybe it’s because they drink too much because they’re used to sitting around at home watching Desparate Housewives sucking down cola and they let loose when they visit big ol’ Lincoln Park only to end up drunk forty-somethings making out in the middle of a blues bar, burning an absolutely disgusting image into my mind.  Minus that, this place was great. 

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Pfister Lobby Bar | Milwaukee, WI

By pdo | Published: April 5, 2009

I think it’s because hotel bars can charge more, and because of the lack of crowds or the land-locked clientele, they have to or they can.  But the service seems better, more attentive.  The assumption, perhaps, is that you’ve already dropped $200 a night on a room, so the drink you just ordered had better be cold, quick, and delicious.  And since you’re going to just sign it onto the combined bill, what’s price?  $10 is 5%.  Big deal.  So $10 a drink, maybe $20, which keeps the crowds away.  Let them have their Apple-d Bees and Olive-d Gardens.  Give me the hotel bar.

The chairs alone are probably worth it — club chairs, cosy and deep.  The Pfister’s are in the same gentile Britishy fabric that all good lobby bars seem to use.  Add a table, thick napkins and coasters, and some snacks and you wouldn’t even need the entertainment of watching the traveled world go by.  But it is there, in the lobby, the checking in, the meetings, greetings, joys, despairs, and doldrums of travel, and you get to watch from your cocktailed perch.  Maybe that’s what so nice about hotel bars — that for the time being you are not traveling and only with the juxtaposition do you realize that you’re exactly where you want to be.

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C-View | Gold Coast, Chicago

By pdo | Published: March 31, 2009

If you were to take the bar at the Hancock, shrink it by 75%, lower it 500 feet, knock 25% of the cost of a drink, update the decor to be more light and hip instead of heavy and 1980, and add a patio, you’d get C-View.


Creative Commons License photo credit: PhotoDu.de

This place has all of the makings of a terrible bar — touristy location, elevator access, painful name (Get it?  It’s like a sea view and a city view, man.) — and manages to NOT suck, because it also has all of the makings of a great bar — nice views, good drinks, reasonable prices, a patio, and a good staff.  Sure some marketing team may have dreamt up the dumb name, but the staff realizes it’s just a bar.  While some bartenders seem to think you’re ordering a drink to stroke their egos, C-View’s realizes that you’re there for a drink.  That is truly refreshing.

I look forward to returning when it’s warm.

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DOC Wine Bar | Lincoln Park, Chicago

By pdo | Published: March 28, 2009

Well, we had a good run, what can I say?  Too bad it had to end.  We’ve been patrons since it opened and were sometimes the only ones there some nights in its earlier days.  Took a little while for this place to catch on, what with its lack of flat-screen TVs and all.  But catch on it did.

When the liquor ran out so did the fun
Creative Commons License photo credit: lissalou66

It’s Thursday and Lisa and I have reason to celebrate.  “Let’s get a glass of Champagne,” I suggest.  We head over to DOC.  The selection is poor: Marquis de la Tour, some other flop, and an actual French Champagne for $17 a glass.  “Just get it,” I say.  We are celebrating.

We have menus, we have a table, but we have no waitress.  We get glasses of water.  We look around.  WTF?

We wrestle another waitress down.  “Have you been helped?” she asks.  “We have menus,” we say, “but we’re ready to order.”  She promises to find our waitress.

Fifteen minutes have now past.  Maybe ten.  Too long.  “Let’s just go,” Lisa suggests.  We get up.  We put on our coats.  Our waitress appears.  “You’re leaving?” she asks.  “Yes,” we say.  She follows us to the door bewildered, attentive for the first time.  DOC, RIP.

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The Bar You’re At, You Drunk Idiot In A Green Shirt | Saint Patrick’s Day, Wherever You Are

By pdo | Published: March 17, 2009

Well, you’ve managed to get drunk.  Great job.  You should be proud.  And you dressed yourself!  Hopefully, you won’t wet yourself.  It’s Saint Patrick’s Day … yippie.

Green with Envy
Creative Commons License photo credit: crazbabe21

Oh, you started drinking at 8AM?  That’s fantastic.  Definitely seizing the day.  Nothing like waking up and having a shot of Jameson — put some hair on that chest underneath the barf on your shirt.  I’m proud of you for rallying after the boot.

No, seriously, enjoy the green beer.  It’s definitely not just Miller Lite with food coloring.  I agree that it tastes mintier than normal.  You’re definitely right on that point.  It’s minty delicious.  Like your breath, but you may want to grab some gum.  Seriously.  Remember that rallying starts with some gum or a toothbrush.

No, Irish Spring is a soap.  Do not put that in your mouth.  Well, fuck it.  Go ahead.  Enjoy the spirit of the day!  Yeah, it’s green.  Like those beads you’re wearing.  You show your tits for those?  Oh, fantastic.  I hope you got a pic for the Facebook.

Yeah, seriously.  You just CAN’T do this everyday.  Like, what would other people think if you were drunk at noon on some OTHER day.  They’d think you were a drunk.  And do they even sell Harp on other days?  Oh, they do?  Weird.  I swear you can’t just do this whenever you want.  There’s one day that it’s possible to get drunk before lunch and it’s today, so it’s great that you’re taking advantage of it.  It’d be like Thanksgiving without cooking a turkey.  They sell those on other days too?  No WAY!?!

Well, that settles it then.  Bring me the car-bomb.  I’ll find a green shirt.  Stick that shamrock sticker on my cheek.  It’s Saint Patrick’s Day!

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Dragonlady Lounge | Logan Square, Chicago

By pdo | Published: March 4, 2009

When the Chaser invites you for a drink, you ask what time. You do not decline. The Chaser wanted to check out Dragonlady Lounge, and I couldn’t resist.

So, there’s some residual Stadium West decor (including the sign out front), and the place is definitely a dive, but it was a lot of fun. There’s something invigorating about being the only ones in a bar — like you’re somehow breaking a rule and doing something you shouldn’t — like skinny dipping with the dean’s daughter. It’s fun. You think: why don’t more people do this. But, of course, if more people did it, it wouldn’t be as fun.

Get the Kimchi dumplings — they’re fantastic. Spicy, though, so watch out. Beer’s cheap. Shots are cheaper if Sue pours them for you while spewing a narrative about how hamburgers are poison. Very interesting, if you can understand it. With Wheel-of-Fortune rocking in the background it was tough to follow given all the buying-of-vowels.

Thursday is all you can eat veg … maybe. Sue said we should check on Yelp. It was kind of refreshing to hear that she relied on the Yelp community to determine her cooking schedule. Even the pricing was in flux — I swear the cost dropped from $9 to $7 over the course of the night. Why not trust your business to the wisdom of the crowds? They’re the ones buying the dumplings.

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