If you've been to a bar that stocks more than one kind of bitters in the last three years, you've probably left thinking the same thing I have: What's up with the mustaches? Or maybe more specifically, What's up with the turn-of-the-century gear, bartender-guy? Since when is...
May 27th, 1940 was a day of impossibly vivid colors at Dunkirk. The cool azure of the sky above contrasting grotesquely with the shock red blood of the soldiers who battled below it. King Leopold III, without the consult of his advisors, his people, or the prime minister of...
In the Chicago Gluttons hiatus, I have fallen into a deep food funk that rivals Joaquin Phoenix’s spiral into oblivion. Maybe it was the strange weather or maybe it was the gimmicky food trends hitting Chicago. (I appreciate kitschy stuff, but for the sake of Jebus, I don’t...
Yeah, I know, we never post anymore. We're bad at it. Less post than a broke bail bondsman. But we haven't quit eating--we're still stacking calories like a shitty tetris game--it's just that updating the site on a regular basis can mean taking what meager free time we have...
Oh beautiful land that connects the Dan Ryan Expressway and the Indiana Tollway right under the illustrious Chicago Skyway. You nestle the pristine waters of the Calumet River in your voluptuous, bountiful bosom. This is God's Country...right next to Gary. Last...
Hey everyone! Did you hear the good news? Our good friend Steven Dolinsky got pink eye? Yeah, he got a little too down with this: Can't really blame him, all those 8x10's gotta get you some primo trim. Time to go find a Kinko's. But enough about assholes, lets talk...
[caption id="" align="alignnone" width="600" caption="full facial"][/caption]How do you officially kick summer off? If you've ever been to a Eastern European pig roast, you don't need to ask that question. Ask chef Dan Kordula how long hes been roasting pig and he'll...
Next muhfucka who asks me if I decided to open my own soul food restaurant is gonna get to know my dull blade called Sammy Three Cuts. For serious, go ahead and do a Google search for Dee's Place. Experiencing internet browsing malaise? Let me get that for you. Other...
Basking under unseasonably pleasant March temps, a thick contingent developed on a creaky front porch deep within Albany Park. A couple heads pulled out American Spirits and resh as we got lifted by the anticipation of it all. Inside, the living room was knee deep in...
I love Breakfast. I will have breakfast at anytime of the day, anywhere, and in most circumstances, cooked by anyone. From greasy spoons after the bar, to champagne brunches on Sunday, breakfast is everyone’s friend. Bongo Room lies somewhere between the two poles of...
Leo's begins the long voyage across Lake Michigan to Chicago In 1984, when I was a just a shorty with a banana seat bicycle, I cared about one thing and one thing only: the Detroit Tigers. Growing up when I did, when the Bengals were on top, when Jack Morris was twirlin'...
Trotsky, Guevara, Levski, Mao Zedong, Spartacus. If the first few weeks of business at Revolution Brewing are any indication of what is to be expected in the years to come, historians should go 'head and add Josh Deth and Jim Cibak to the list of muhfuckas who flipped the...
Palmer House? The fuck? No, this post aint about the Twentieth Annual Meeting of the Society for Text & Discourse or that time your boss told you she'd pick up a couple AWDs (after work dranks) at the Lobby Bar, then cut out early, leaving you with a healthy tab. Nah,...
2009 is done, son! Time to pick our favorite restaurants of the year. Roy Big Star Nearly the same great pastor taste of El Tizconcito but full of non-eating hipsters instead of actual people. If you can get past the ironic Care Bear tshirts and silly faux hawks,...
It's December in Chicago, which means temperatures are dipping lower than Patrick Swayze's white blood cell count. Time to get out your soups spoons, gluttons. Roy already pushed matzo ball. I'm gonna talk tom yum koong. Specifically, the tom yum at Opart Thai on Western, where...
Whiskey. Tacos. Tostadas. Shakes. In Chicago, Big Star is now as synonymous to Tex-Mex as Dulcelandia is to Chicano Candy-land. Paul Kahan (Blackbird, Publican, Avec + dickEverest of James Beard nominations) is back on the grindilla. Once again, teaming up with ole...
Aaaaaannd . . we're back. Sorry about that little hiatus faithful readers, we were on a diet. Now that I've widdled my man boobs down to a supple B-cup we can get back to business. But wait. I have to get something (else) off my chest. Let me start with this...
Chicago's a food town. We love food like Lenny loves Carl. We love food so much we took Wisconsin's lunch money and spent it on Gobstoppers. Our fat souls have dreamed up the Twinkie, the Pizza Puff, the Italian Beef, Cracker Jacks, brownies, deep dish, and the Chicago-style...
Now girls step up to this One simple lick, and its ova Miss Sold to nice dreamers, high as the price seem Girlfriend, youve been scooped like ice cream Competition, Ima get rid of You cant get a bit of, so just consider a break rest vacation hibernation And...
At CG, the job description states, "candidate must be willing to rap mad shit, speak on the goodness and fulfill other duties as assigned." Written next to all the analogies and metaphors is the essence of why we put pen to pad: the food. Be it reputation, ingredients,...
