Chicago bar reviews

There are two options when you enter John and Karen Urie Shields’ Smyth + The Loyalist. You can head upstairs to Smyth for a modern fine dining experience, complete with a prix fixe menu, or you can walk downstairs to the Loyalist, a sultry bar with upscale bites (including an amazing cheeseburger) and killer cocktails. Positioned in the West Loop, the spot is perfect for a before- or after-dinner drink, but you could also spend a whole night there. The Loyalist’s cocktail menu is the centerpiece, springing from the mind of former MFK bartender Roger Landes. The menu is well rounded, with a mix of light and spirit-forward drinks, including twists on classics and more original ideas. All the cocktails have at least one special component, such as the use of Chinato in place of Campari in the Innocents Abroad with Gentiane, creating a citrusy and bitter negroni. Likewise, the Nothing Noble combines bourbon with demerara sugar, a bit of Amargo Valet and mint for an herbal twist on a classic old-fashioned. It isn’t just the variations and balance that makes these cocktails interesting—there’s also something to be said for the presentation. Drinks come in beautiful etched glass goblets and fancy thin-walled lowballs that exude quality and attention to detail. The food works well for the space too, with primarily small plates made for sharing—a sharp contrast to the fine dining dishes served upstairs. The most notable thing on the menu is the cheeseburger, served on a sesame seed...

There’s a lovely moment in Won’t You Be My Neighbor?—the HBO documentary on the late Fred Rogers—that discusses the importance of creating quiet spaces. A peeler slowly works its way around an apple; Rogers sets an egg timer to show the actual length of a minute. It’s meant to reject the loud, crude mass media aimed at children in television’s early days, but it also echoes the overstimulation with which many of us live, work and eat now, thanks to a certain device we keep glued to our sides. But from the moment I entered Kumiko’s plant-filled foyer to a welcome cup of cinnamon chai tea, a sense of meditative calm washed over me. This Japanese-inspired cocktail bar and restaurant from Julia Momose (GreenRiver), Cara and Noah Sandoval and chef de cuisine Mariya Russell (all Oriole), is one of measured pace and care. Kumiko’s eight-seat omakase bar lends a peek into the humming kitchen through an intricately carved wood shade that acts as a focal point of the restaurant. My date and I had booked our barstools about a month in advance for the $130 omakase experience, in which Momose and her skilled team pair a series of fixed Japanese bites with sakes and bespoke cocktails. “Do you tend to go for bright and citrusy? Bitter or savory?” asked our meticulously suited bartender once we were settled. His easy warmth goaded me into oversharing beyond my cocktail preferences in the same way I sometimes psychologically unload on hospitable baristas. A progression of nigiri came...

When Grant Achatz does a cocktail bar, it should go without saying that it's no ordinary cocktail bar. At the Aviary, which opened next door to Next in 2011, cocktails receive the same innovative treatment as the food at Next or Alinea. That is to say, you should expect to drink cocktails like the Junglebird, a science experiment in liquid density, with layers of rum, campari, pineapple-lime syrup and rum "pearls" suspended in the drink. O'Doyle Rules comes with a fried banana snack on top of the rum-curry-cognac concoction, while Loaded to the Gunwalls is delivered with a single tapered candle. The drink, with pineapple, hazelnut and Batavia Arrack, is served in a glass ship in a bottle. You've never seen a drink like it, and given how rare a visit to the Aviary is, you may never again.

Like the first time I tried to go to the Violet Hour and walked straight past the door, I had no idea how to get into the Drifter, a new bar located underneath Green Door Tavern. But while the Violet Hour was Chicago’s first nouveau speakeasy, bar culture has changed over the past eight years—now, when a bar claims to be a speakeasy, all that means is that it’s dark, with well-made cocktails and bartenders in retro clothes. The Drifter breaks the mold, since it’s actually located in an old speakeasy space, and it’s missing the pretentious trappings a lot of cocktail bars have. In speakeasy days, people would enter a door a couple blocks away and get into the bar through a window, which has been covered over. We had to ask at Green Door how to get in, so I’ll save you the trouble: Walk through Green Door, head downstairs and enter through the wooden door that’s next to the restrooms. There’s no sign, but if the door guy isn’t there taking names for a waitlist that grows longer as the night goes on (though we walked right in at 5:30pm on a Saturday), knock and he’ll let you in. Once inside, the space is dark, cozy and full of objects that were already there when bartender Liz Pearce (Gage, Drawing Room, Aviary) took over the unused space. There are old paintings, like one of FDR that overlooks the end of the bar, a bullet-riddled Mobil sign, flags billowing from the ceiling and dozens of dusty old bottles lined up atop the bar. It’s a comfortable, low-key spot to hang out,...

I’ve been thinking a lot about the Cheers theme song and the idea of a place “where everybody knows your name.” The thing is, on nights when I can sneak away and splurge on a round of craft cocktails, I seek out places where no one knows my name. It’s not that I’m anti-social—more than anything, it’s about reveling in quality time with close friends. Lazy Bird, the bar in the basement of the Hoxton hotel helmed by Lee Zaremba, ticks all the right boxes for that kind of night out. The space is so dimly lit that you can barely see across the room, and seating is configured in a way that gives each party a sense of privacy—even if you are seated two feet away from the next table. And don’t plan on checking your email or Instagram feed while you’re here; the subterranean space is a black hole for cell service. Those qualities alone make Lazy Bird a solid watering hole. But when you toss in Zaremba’s pièce de résistance of a menu—a whopping 52 classic cocktails that have been refined and perfected—this place easily enters Best New Bar of 2019 territory. Just as my date and I snagged seats along the wall opposite the bar, our server presented us with a beautiful book of tipples to choose from—each accompanied by hand-drawn illustrations from Kate Dehler and bite-sized descriptions penned by Zaremba. When we asked for a second menu so that we could browse simultaneously, our server told us that there weren’t enough to go around. As soon as we ordered our first sips—an Aviation...

I can’t stop playing “Golden Teardrops,” the haunting 1953 single by Chicago doo-wop group the Flamingos. It’s beautifully arranged, the kind of nostalgic pop tune you might put on loop while crying over a lost love into a stiff drink—or three. The clandestine basement bar from Land and Sea Dept. (Parson’s Chicken & Fish, Lost Lake) named for this pared-down R&B hit is likewise stylishly moody, an ideal spot for a cozy nightcap. Where I felt doo-wop’s influence most, however, was in barman Paul McGee’s eight minimalist riffs on classic cocktails. My two dates and I began the evening wolfing down tacos at airy, Tex-Mex sister spot Lonesome Rose—highly recommended, as Golden Teardrops traffics in high-proof sips but no food. We headed back outside into the alley and down the building’s back steps, where a small black sign assured us we were in the right place. Once inside, this low-ceilinged 40-seater wraps you in the snug semi-darkness of an old Brooklyn cocktail bar, thanks to black walls, vintage gold-vein mirror tile and lighting that consists mostly of votive candles and a jarring neon sign that reads “Weddings & Funerals.” This last photogenic detail—which I’m told nods to the two life occasions that bring friends and family together to seriously drink—buoys the vibe with prevailingly twee dark humor. We nabbed an alcoved table opposite the L-shaped mahogany bar, where I bellied up to order each round (there are no roving servers here). Dual letter boards display the...

Bar review by Amy Cavanaugh There are, it seems, two Three Dots and a Dash. There’s the crowded, noisy Three Dots, where a DJ plays Justin Timberlake and you’re lucky to get a seat—and even if you do, someone will be elbowing you in the back as they urge their friend to “Chug! Chug! Chug!” their marigold-accented tiki drink. Then there’s the serene tiki bar, where you can sit at the raffia-decorated bar and listen to island-themed music while you eat coconut shrimp. I just can’t seem to find the second Three Dots. I’ve been to the bar on several occasions, weekdays and weekends, at 5:15pm, right after Three Dots opens, and at 11:15pm for a nightcap after dinner. No matter when I go, the bar is raucous and the music is loud. Friends swear they’ve been to Three Dots when it’s quiet and you don’t have to yell at your companions to be heard. I haven’t found that magic time yet. But it’s River North, right? And Three Dots is the hot new bar, and a Melman project at that, so of course people are going to line up in the alley, where a blue light marks the door and a bouncer with an earpiece checks IDs, right? Right. So I’m going to move on and tell you why you should pack your earplugs and just go anyway. First of all, you won’t realize how much you were missing perfectly made tiki drinks in your life until you have one here. Since Trader Vic’s closed in 2011, there hasn’t been a dedicated tiki bar in the city, and we’ve needed one. These aren’t frozen daiquiris dispensed from a...

The second cocktail bar in the Fifty/50 Restaurant Group’s lineup and the sixth concept overall (hence its name), the Sixth provides Lincoln Square with some truly tasty cocktails conceived by beverage director Benjamin Schiller. And while the vibe tends toward upscale, it manages to appeal to both neighborhood locals grabbing a drink after work and outsiders looking for a well-crafted drink that balances whimsy with familiarity. Sitting at the bar, two neighborhood residents next to me ask the bartender for recommendations—it’s easy to do in the small space—and one is expertly guided to a spirited cocktail, the Weston, with wheated bourbon, Dark Matter’s Unicorn Blood coffee and a whiff of pipe tobacco. Meanwhile, I start off with the Silly Rabbit, a gin-based drink with flavored (and colored) ice cubes presented in a highball and a carafe, to pour the cocktail over the ice and watch the colors slowly change. “Is that sweet?” my neighbor asks, pointing at my drink—it isn’t, it’s tart and citrusy, despite colors that could tip it off as sugary. We fall into easy conversation, trying different cocktails and sharing thoughts, which seems normal at a neighborhood watering hole. While the service is attentive and helpful (they let me hold on to my Silly Rabbit until it had all melted away), the bar isn’t without its quirks. It shares a back kitchen space with Roots Handmade Pizza, which led to an awkward run-in with a Roots server asking if I knew someone ordering pizza at the...

This fun, honky tonk-style taqueria in the Windy City’s Wicker Park neighborhood couldn’t be more serious about its tacos, and it shows: its al pastor variety is a thing of pure beauty. Marinated pork shoulder is roasted to crackling on a spit, then carved into tortillas and topped with grilled pineapple and onions, plus plenty of fresh cilantro. 

The premiere dining destination within the expansive Thalia Hall complex (which includes a music venue and two bars), Dusek's Tavern has changed quite a bit since it opened in 2013. But the restaurant remains a reliable spot for dinner before a show, where you'll find two separate dining experiences. Sink your teeth into a smash burger or slurp down oysters in the bar area; chefs Geoff Thompson and Ryan Pfeiffer offer a seasonal tasting menu centered around the woodfire oven tasting experience, which pairs well with the solid list of classic cocktails, beers on draft and surprisingly deep wine list. Plus, there's a late-night menu if you need to sneak down for a snack during the second encore. Review from 2013: On the door of Dusek's Board and Beer, the opening date (2013) is laid out in gold letters. Next to it is an unexpected word: "re-established." Rather than bring an overpriced, newfangled hipster paradise to East Pilsen, the folks behind Dusek's have done something unexpected: tried to bring a little bit of the neighborhood back to its 19th-century roots. Dusek's is only one part of the ambitious Thalia Hall project that includes a bar, a restaurant and a performance venue. Thalia Hall was originally the creation of John Dusek, who opened the building in 1892, when the neighborhood was Czech. The hall itself isn't quite refurbished yet (though I peeked inside and the space is incredible) but the bar and restaurant are ready to go. The restaurant itself is cozy and...

There are two options when you enter John and Karen Urie Shields’ Smyth + The Loyalist. You can head upstairs to Smyth for a modern fine dining experience, complete with a prix fixe menu, or you can walk downstairs to the Loyalist, a sultry bar with upscale bites (including an amazing cheeseburger) and killer cocktails. Positioned in the West Loop, the spot is perfect for a before- or after-dinner drink, but you could also spend a whole night there. The Loyalist’s cocktail menu is the centerpiece, springing from the mind of former MFK bartender Roger Landes. The menu is well rounded, with a mix of light and spirit-forward drinks, including twists on classics and more original ideas. All the cocktails have at least one special component, such as the use of Chinato in place of Campari in the Innocents Abroad with Gentiane, creating a citrusy and bitter negroni. Likewise, the Nothing Noble combines bourbon with demerara sugar, a bit of Amargo Valet and mint for an herbal twist on a classic old-fashioned. It isn’t just the variations and balance that makes these cocktails interesting—there’s also something to be said for the presentation. Drinks come in beautiful etched glass goblets and fancy thin-walled lowballs that exude quality and attention to detail. The food works well for the space too, with primarily small plates made for sharing—a sharp contrast to the fine dining dishes served upstairs. The most notable thing on the menu is the cheeseburger, served on a sesame seed...

When Grant Achatz does a cocktail bar, it should go without saying that it's no ordinary cocktail bar. At the Aviary, which opened next door to Next in 2011, cocktails receive the same innovative treatment as the food at Next or Alinea. That is to say, you should expect to drink cocktails like the Junglebird, a science experiment in liquid density, with layers of rum, campari, pineapple-lime syrup and rum "pearls" suspended in the drink. O'Doyle Rules comes with a fried banana snack on top of the rum-curry-cognac concoction, while Loaded to the Gunwalls is delivered with a single tapered candle. The drink, with pineapple, hazelnut and Batavia Arrack, is served in a glass ship in a bottle. You've never seen a drink like it, and given how rare a visit to the Aviary is, you may never again.

Like the first time I tried to go to the Violet Hour and walked straight past the door, I had no idea how to get into the Drifter, a new bar located underneath Green Door Tavern. But while the Violet Hour was Chicago’s first nouveau speakeasy, bar culture has changed over the past eight years—now, when a bar claims to be a speakeasy, all that means is that it’s dark, with well-made cocktails and bartenders in retro clothes. The Drifter breaks the mold, since it’s actually located in an old speakeasy space, and it’s missing the pretentious trappings a lot of cocktail bars have. In speakeasy days, people would enter a door a couple blocks away and get into the bar through a window, which has been covered over. We had to ask at Green Door how to get in, so I’ll save you the trouble: Walk through Green Door, head downstairs and enter through the wooden door that’s next to the restrooms. There’s no sign, but if the door guy isn’t there taking names for a waitlist that grows longer as the night goes on (though we walked right in at 5:30pm on a Saturday), knock and he’ll let you in. Once inside, the space is dark, cozy and full of objects that were already there when bartender Liz Pearce (Gage, Drawing Room, Aviary) took over the unused space. There are old paintings, like one of FDR that overlooks the end of the bar, a bullet-riddled Mobil sign, flags billowing from the ceiling and dozens of dusty old bottles lined up atop the bar. It’s a comfortable, low-key spot to hang out,...

There’s a lovely moment in Won’t You Be My Neighbor?—the HBO documentary on the late Fred Rogers—that discusses the importance of creating quiet spaces. A peeler slowly works its way around an apple; Rogers sets an egg timer to show the actual length of a minute. It’s meant to reject the loud, crude mass media aimed at children in television’s early days, but it also echoes the overstimulation with which many of us live, work and eat now, thanks to a certain device we keep glued to our sides. But from the moment I entered Kumiko’s plant-filled foyer to a welcome cup of cinnamon chai tea, a sense of meditative calm washed over me. This Japanese-inspired cocktail bar and restaurant from Julia Momose (GreenRiver), Cara and Noah Sandoval and chef de cuisine Mariya Russell (all Oriole), is one of measured pace and care. Kumiko’s eight-seat omakase bar lends a peek into the humming kitchen through an intricately carved wood shade that acts as a focal point of the restaurant. My date and I had booked our barstools about a month in advance for the $130 omakase experience, in which Momose and her skilled team pair a series of fixed Japanese bites with sakes and bespoke cocktails. “Do you tend to go for bright and citrusy? Bitter or savory?” asked our meticulously suited bartender once we were settled. His easy warmth goaded me into oversharing beyond my cocktail preferences in the same way I sometimes psychologically unload on hospitable baristas. A progression of nigiri came...

I’ve been thinking a lot about the Cheers theme song and the idea of a place “where everybody knows your name.” The thing is, on nights when I can sneak away and splurge on a round of craft cocktails, I seek out places where no one knows my name. It’s not that I’m anti-social—more than anything, it’s about reveling in quality time with close friends. Lazy Bird, the bar in the basement of the Hoxton hotel helmed by Lee Zaremba, ticks all the right boxes for that kind of night out. The space is so dimly lit that you can barely see across the room, and seating is configured in a way that gives each party a sense of privacy—even if you are seated two feet away from the next table. And don’t plan on checking your email or Instagram feed while you’re here; the subterranean space is a black hole for cell service. Those qualities alone make Lazy Bird a solid watering hole. But when you toss in Zaremba’s pièce de résistance of a menu—a whopping 52 classic cocktails that have been refined and perfected—this place easily enters Best New Bar of 2019 territory. Just as my date and I snagged seats along the wall opposite the bar, our server presented us with a beautiful book of tipples to choose from—each accompanied by hand-drawn illustrations from Kate Dehler and bite-sized descriptions penned by Zaremba. When we asked for a second menu so that we could browse simultaneously, our server told us that there weren’t enough to go around. As soon as we ordered our first sips—an Aviation...

I can’t stop playing “Golden Teardrops,” the haunting 1953 single by Chicago doo-wop group the Flamingos. It’s beautifully arranged, the kind of nostalgic pop tune you might put on loop while crying over a lost love into a stiff drink—or three. The clandestine basement bar from Land and Sea Dept. (Parson’s Chicken & Fish, Lost Lake) named for this pared-down R&B hit is likewise stylishly moody, an ideal spot for a cozy nightcap. Where I felt doo-wop’s influence most, however, was in barman Paul McGee’s eight minimalist riffs on classic cocktails. My two dates and I began the evening wolfing down tacos at airy, Tex-Mex sister spot Lonesome Rose—highly recommended, as Golden Teardrops traffics in high-proof sips but no food. We headed back outside into the alley and down the building’s back steps, where a small black sign assured us we were in the right place. Once inside, this low-ceilinged 40-seater wraps you in the snug semi-darkness of an old Brooklyn cocktail bar, thanks to black walls, vintage gold-vein mirror tile and lighting that consists mostly of votive candles and a jarring neon sign that reads “Weddings & Funerals.” This last photogenic detail—which I’m told nods to the two life occasions that bring friends and family together to seriously drink—buoys the vibe with prevailingly twee dark humor. We nabbed an alcoved table opposite the L-shaped mahogany bar, where I bellied up to order each round (there are no roving servers here). Dual letter boards display the...

The second cocktail bar in the Fifty/50 Restaurant Group’s lineup and the sixth concept overall (hence its name), the Sixth provides Lincoln Square with some truly tasty cocktails conceived by beverage director Benjamin Schiller. And while the vibe tends toward upscale, it manages to appeal to both neighborhood locals grabbing a drink after work and outsiders looking for a well-crafted drink that balances whimsy with familiarity. Sitting at the bar, two neighborhood residents next to me ask the bartender for recommendations—it’s easy to do in the small space—and one is expertly guided to a spirited cocktail, the Weston, with wheated bourbon, Dark Matter’s Unicorn Blood coffee and a whiff of pipe tobacco. Meanwhile, I start off with the Silly Rabbit, a gin-based drink with flavored (and colored) ice cubes presented in a highball and a carafe, to pour the cocktail over the ice and watch the colors slowly change. “Is that sweet?” my neighbor asks, pointing at my drink—it isn’t, it’s tart and citrusy, despite colors that could tip it off as sugary. We fall into easy conversation, trying different cocktails and sharing thoughts, which seems normal at a neighborhood watering hole. While the service is attentive and helpful (they let me hold on to my Silly Rabbit until it had all melted away), the bar isn’t without its quirks. It shares a back kitchen space with Roots Handmade Pizza, which led to an awkward run-in with a Roots server asking if I knew someone ordering pizza at the...

Bar review by Amy Cavanaugh There are, it seems, two Three Dots and a Dash. There’s the crowded, noisy Three Dots, where a DJ plays Justin Timberlake and you’re lucky to get a seat—and even if you do, someone will be elbowing you in the back as they urge their friend to “Chug! Chug! Chug!” their marigold-accented tiki drink. Then there’s the serene tiki bar, where you can sit at the raffia-decorated bar and listen to island-themed music while you eat coconut shrimp. I just can’t seem to find the second Three Dots. I’ve been to the bar on several occasions, weekdays and weekends, at 5:15pm, right after Three Dots opens, and at 11:15pm for a nightcap after dinner. No matter when I go, the bar is raucous and the music is loud. Friends swear they’ve been to Three Dots when it’s quiet and you don’t have to yell at your companions to be heard. I haven’t found that magic time yet. But it’s River North, right? And Three Dots is the hot new bar, and a Melman project at that, so of course people are going to line up in the alley, where a blue light marks the door and a bouncer with an earpiece checks IDs, right? Right. So I’m going to move on and tell you why you should pack your earplugs and just go anyway. First of all, you won’t realize how much you were missing perfectly made tiki drinks in your life until you have one here. Since Trader Vic’s closed in 2011, there hasn’t been a dedicated tiki bar in the city, and we’ve needed one. These aren’t frozen daiquiris dispensed from a...

This fun, honky tonk-style taqueria in the Windy City’s Wicker Park neighborhood couldn’t be more serious about its tacos, and it shows: its al pastor variety is a thing of pure beauty. Marinated pork shoulder is roasted to crackling on a spit, then carved into tortillas and topped with grilled pineapple and onions, plus plenty of fresh cilantro. 

Update December 2014: On my first couple review visits to Analogue, I fell hard for Alfredo Nogueira's Cajun food, like the light smoked fish dip, fluffy biscuits served with pepper jelly and a fried chicken sandwich on toast. But the cocktails were kind of lackluster, and certainly weren't the main draw. And then I went back, and back again, at first for the food, then both the food and drinks. The cocktails have gotten better and better over time, so much so that I'm revising my star rating, from 3 to 4. This is a comfortable, low-key cocktail bar, where you can get an excellent cocktail like a bourbon and sherry cobbler and a terrific plate of food. In the year it's been open, Analogue has already become one of my favorite bars in Chicago.—AC  Bar review by Amy Cavanaugh I was talking recently with one of my favorite bartenders (who will remain nameless), who said I had to go try the gumbo at Analogue, which opened in Logan Square in December. “They put potato salad in the middle, which is just like they do in the South!” And then I started hearing reports from friends, praising the smoked fish dip, the fried chicken sandwich and the Scotch egg, all of which have Cajun twists. There hasn’t been nearly as much talk about the drinks, made by Violet Hour vets Henry Prendergast and Robert Haynes. The pair were aiming to open a cocktail bar that’s more accessible than the Violet Hour—“We kind of want to loosen it up here and have more fun with it,” Prendergast told us—and...