When I’m on a first date, particularly of the interweb varietal, I cannot bear the process of waiting for the server to bring the bill. It seems every time I step out and food is consumed, food or beverage arrives promptly, but the bill? That’s the time Ned or Stacey (why am I making oblique Thomas Haden Church references?) has chatted up their 17 coworkers or wiped up their 90th table,  the point at which, even on a good date, one can’t help but note the lag in service, the diminished momentum of conversation, and the sound of street lamps.

That’s why the wine bar should be the first date of preference. Appropriate mood lighting abounds, as well as the brief, painless service interchange. AND on top of that, there isn’t that residual guilt of, “dammit, I ordered the salad AND entree, i should at  least kiss the date in question on the mouth. Maybe even some tongue?” 

Here is a list in order, of the top and middling contenders for Chicago wine bars:

West Loop: Tasting Room

 Tasting Room epitomizes low-key class. Candles and rooms decorated in primarily brown tones  create a warm, welcoming atmosphere, and on a weeknight it’s far from impossible to get a skyline view in one of their many window seats. The wine menu is overwhelming, and at times, admittedly I’ve had trouble getting the server to nail my wine craving, if you say the words “fruity” “textured” or “smooth” chances are they’ll approximate your taste, and if cautious, a diner can always ask for a sample. Parking is fairly easy (again I’m focusing on weeknights). However, if you live more than a hop from the West loop, a cab can become an added expense, and they are closeish  to one of the ashland El stops, but the station would be too seedy for a lone gal to use at night. The menu might be too fussy for my personal tastes, but they do serve chocolate fondue, which has become a Nessie type rarity on chicago menus. This place really does fall under the You Can’t Go Wrong category, assuming you live within cab range, or have the discipline to Stop at One.

Wicker Park: Bin Wine Cafe

La Deee Da. I do know Enis, one of the hosts who works at Bin Wine Cafe. He is pleasingly flirtatious when I run into him on his way home or picking up menus at Kinkos. That’s why it irks me to say Laa Deee Da, re: the restaurant in which he works. first of all, the lighting, and loud clinking noises, ouch. I need to take an Excedrin when walking in there. Are they attempting a Fast Food ambiance at Foodie prices? I did dine there recently with a friend and found the food uneven. The bruschetta style dish was pastey, salmon inedible, but beet salad fresh and springy. Our waitress was a doll, but I cannot recount how many times the servers have been unresponsive and slightly passive aggressive. I wouldn’t call it a date place unless one can snag a seat in the dimmer front, but then you and your date are  contending with the Wicker Park types who didn’t get enough attention as children and compensate with unmuffled motorcycle engines or barking laughs. While some of the dishes win win win, I wouldn’t make this a go to wine bar. It’s really just a badly lit, overpriced eatery.

Ahhh….darkness. When one walks into Jin Ju the low lights envelope and soothe. Sure, you may or may not be able to see your date, but really…why the need to see every tiny detail? That’s for the next morning at brunch!

The two standouts of jin jiu are the server’s personalities, and the kicky, mildly innovative but reliably spicy and enjoyable dishes. You can depend on “Mike”,* the diminutive but muscular server to give you a reassuring and flirtatious squeeze on the arm (not tuchus, never fear) as you sit down. Our runner up, but not lesser favorite is “Lance”* (apologize for stereotypical name) the flamboyant, expressively waxed server who never fails to welcome, and elucidate the menu items.  I tried a Korean restaurant in chicago, but was intimidated by the exclusively Korean menu and self cooking woks/pots at the table. Lance and Mike have endless patience to explain and distinguish one seemingly similiar sounding menu item from the other. It’s a relief…ethnic cuisine for confused yuppies!

The dishes bat it home every time. The bi bim bap with sesame oil (it’s the second item on the entree menu) adds an interesting twist to the traditional dish, and each meal is accompanied by spicy, delectable vegetable/salad/kimchee type thingies that vary every few months or so. The pear martini, a powerful drink (ladies be warned) has the nonpreserved flavor of real pears, with the accompanying kick of decent quality wodka. They excel in wines as well, usually offering the appropriate mix. I should warn, if you have tummy troubles, I would abstain from a night at the Jiu, the spicy dishes are tough. Other than that, Jin Ju is always a pleasant night out.

*Server’s names have been changed not only to protect their identity, but to protect myself from revealing that I’m horrible with names.

3137 West Logan Blvd – Chicago, Illinois

Dunlay’s aspires to please, and that it does. The restaurant offers affordable and relatively healthy fare that rounds the bases of many types of cuisine. The veggie burger I have returned to faithfully, converse to the reaction my dog gives to her benefull dogfood.  The salads are substantial, wines interesting but not toooo interesting. But how does Dunlay’s fare as a date place?

I rank Dunlay’s in the mid to upper echelons….as a second date place. Not first, and definitely not third. The menu is affordable, but not bottom barrel, but for a first date you risk the dragged out meal torture. Plus the interior in the Logan Square location has boom boom boomin’ music, so awkward to speak a notch about your normal volume. The service is almost always upbeat and responsive, but not overbearing. If you choose to sit outside, which datingdish recommends, you enjoy the views of the various eclectic offerings of the Square, glance occasionally at other couples enjoying their awkward or rewarding dates, and feel the humidity baring a hole into your soul. Ok edit that last thought, I went there on a particularly humid evening a few weeks ago.

However, if you are looking to impress your date with wild, unexpected choices, don’t come here. The menu has the solid upscale sandwich/salad/appetizer offerings, albeit delicious. The lighting, always of concern to datingdish, is okkkkaaayyyy, not bad,but a bit dim and cast down, a no no.  One practical note: the veggie burger, while legendary in my mind, does crumble. It’s authentic, but again, unseemly on first or even second dates. Wait til things have solidified before ordering that, bun intended.

Alejandra thinks her boyfriend’s sexual technique needs some updating

Carlos work Rogaine! Work!

Natasha feels like she should have never left her husband

Cynthia forgot to take her birth control pill last night…on purpose.

Ilya wishes Bush were still President

Deirdre is just about ready to cash in her 401K for that mini face lift. Tax penalties be damned.

Roman is talking to the little people in his head, and it’s nice to connect for once.

The most recent efforts, as in “getting over an ex” revealed many pages about how to “win the ex back” usually redolent with fatal grammar and spelling errors. My search for “reinvigorating your career as a graphic designer” plopped me in front of lots of “motion design” URLs quoting smug inspired designers. And yet when the urgency isn’t there, I find the exact page and bit of information desired. Is there something to the aphorism of “it’ll happen when you’re not looking for it” that applies to internet searches? p.s. ever use that bit of wisdom on me and look to get smacked. Even with mapping, occasionally disaster falls. I looked up an address in the suburbs and found the streets mislabeled. Tragedy, travesty, and where do we turn? God forbid, our doctors, therapists, our own internal compass? As much as I want to know when Jennifer Aniston has last visited “Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf” on  Cayuhanga Blvd. I have more urgent informational needs from the internet, such as the Meaning of Life.

This month we’re featuring a guest contributor. He prefers to subsist under the radar, but he has a way with the words and with the advice. So now…heeeeeere’s Shlomo!

Shlom–, er, Lucky

Me: What have you read of hers?

Me2: Not a lot, her book of essays, Shiksa goddess, Heidi Chronicles, I keep meaning to read more.

Me: What interests you so about her?

Me2: She’s incredibly brilliant and yet verging on anachronistic. She has these beautiful way of crafting a detail or a thought, soulful and true. For example when she writes about writing itself, she described how she would take herself on writing vacations in Ann Arbor and London and Boston. Her descriptions of the hotels and waitstaff at each restaurant was so vivid, I felt like I was eating her broiled fish with her. Hmmm…I’m hungry. Also she was fiercely independent, she never married, chose to have a baby on her own, and had an arguably tragic life, as she died at 55 from lymphoma, leaving her daughter a orphan.

Me: What irritates you about her?

Me2: Well, the thing that jumps out at me are twofold: one is her Cathy comic sensibility. She writes ad nauseum in her book “Shiksa Goddess” about her struggles with weight, calorie counting, and other women’s thinner figures. The p.o.v. just seems so 80s! In addition, she was exceedingly private about her love life, a conspicuous dearth, since the plot points of her plays focus on male female relationships. Third is that she really did live a life of incredible privilege, an artist’s life in what I’m guessing was a pretty comfortable lifestyle. I’m pleased to see an artist succeed financially, but I’m wondering if she was mildly oblivious to her own material success.

Me: I sense you identify with her

Me2: What are you my therapist? At least write up the invoice for insurance return. Yes and no. I’m probably more physically confident, but also less successful materially and careerwise. I don’t identify as an intellectual nerd or wallflower. I must say I find her to be an enigma, because she was very determined to follow her own path but has this veneer of being self effacing.

Me: Well said!

Me2: Ok thanks. Now let’s integrate, this is getting weird.

me and me2: OK.

Glamour/Marie Claire-This one, even back in the day of buying the mags, was one I shunned. Their target/idealized girl is 28, in a steady long term relationship, in entry level to middling corporate track. She has two best friends, Ashley and Stace, and she goes out with them on Friday nights and stays with the boy (Eric? Matt? Bjorn?) on Saturday nights from 8pm dinner to 5pm goodbye. If you are not one of these girls in any way, i.e. perhaps you have more male friends than female, are left handed or don’t enjoy sushi, they will not REPRESENT. They also add little gems, such as “your fertility isn’t forever girl!” and “horror stories from the dating front lines”-little niblets to let you know that if you haven’t attained all of the idealized variations achieved by their target buyer, you should be up at night, in a cold sweat, because you will be alone 4-EVA.

Allure-This one I secretly enjoy. It leapfrogs over the notions that your social life should match a certain fascist premise. It goes right for the jugular, it says, “you’re terrified of aging and being unattractive! We have the solution! Ahora mismo!” They gleefully give you the latest updates on hair styling and makeup techniques, injectable doohickies, plastic surgery bells and whistles, and the occasional soulful article, such as “My big sister was more beautiful than me” or “How perfume changed my life.” While my tone may sound mocking, they actually have seasoned contributors who know how to turn a pathetically shallow idea into something of substance. And they do not remotely pretend to be deep, In fact, the magazine is refreshingly retro, with no tricky “current feminist events’ articles as decoys.

More-this is the one I love to hate. They claim ageist liberation,as in , “Grrrr…. sexy cougar Lady, you’ve still got it going on! Just don’t wear elastic waistbands or anything above the midthigh region. Not too much skin girlfriend!” Their fear of the aging process is so pronounced, they shirk in fear at the bold act of wearing Chanel’s Vamp nailcolor or showing a little shoulder action. Their mind numbing catalogue of skin care regimens requires the short term memory of a Starbucks barista and the bank account of a former Merrill Lynch exec enjoying a plush bailout package. And their showcase of the Hag of the Month “Look at what 45 (or 50 or 86) looks like now!” is somehow, hmmm…an insult to women in that age group. Yes we get it, older woman can be attractive, what a notion. And yet why do they sound so surprised?

So what IS recommended junk food reading? Well it depends on your state of mind. If your sense of irony is developed to potent levels, I’d say US or Allure, again those magazines enter you into the fun house proportions of pure Celebrity Gazing or Appearance Obsession. While the testament to uber benefactor Oprah has the comically self aggrandizing new age advice, it does at least showcase some real life situations, i.e. financial and interpersonal. Or it attempts to. But whatever you do, don’t read anything without a sense of humor. Or pictures.

To doggonit or not on a date is an interesting question. Depending on the behavior of one’s dog, the squiring of one’s dog on a date is a pretty undesirable action. Would you bring a slightly desultory newborn on a date? Didn’t think so.

Compound trying to find a restaurant in Chicago that allows for dogs, and the stressometer registers code rouge. One time I brought my (now passed on) dog Jackie (not Jaquée of 227 fame) on a date and the occasion suffered. She had prolonged curiousity for a nutty buddy wrapper on the street and my extended efforts to hold on to her leash wore down the skin on my hand. Plus the guy in question was a short red head jackass. Not a pretty combination and a second date was not forthcoming.

I say dogs are great to suss out dates, but only if you are lucky enough to find a friendly nonyuppie at the dog park. And that I tell you, would be a newsworthy occasion.

Good places to take Max the Charming Kashmoodle Mix on a date:

1. Wilson Dog Beach

2. Jerry’s Sandwiches on Division (mediocre food though, be warned and only during the summer months. )

3. Mac’s on Division (disclaimer for all restaurants, dog must be Xanaxed to point of stupefication)

4. Not in one’s way during romantic physical expressions (saying hi is less acceptable these days)

5. A trip to Petco on that 4th date

Links:

Neighborhood: East Village / Ukranian Village

1059 N. Wolcott Ave.    Chicago, IL 60622

773-486-1512

Despite my desperate clutching for a good headline, as evidence
above, I have to say hesitating positives for Happy Village, though
for a select crew.

The interior, heck, the whole bar caters to the skinny jean (not
mall loiterers)  janitorial chain crew. The bar is bare bone in terms of decor, I’m not sure what types of top shelf vodka the place has, and the only
atmosphere is provided by the glow of the jukebox. However, for ultra low pressure first encounters, and again with the forgiving evening light, the place has a certain understated caché.

Drawbacks are lots of smokers, and despite this alleged ban on bar
smoking, not sure the haze is going to lift anytime soon. The
owner has strung klieg lights in the back, so summertime is the
optimal time to go. That said, they are of the “night of freaks at
the circus”  variety-not warm incandescent. Also cheap plastic
chairs abound in the back, making those awful plastic chair squeaking noises whenever you move. (and louder the heavier you are, oy!)  Also the place gets quite crowded, so maybe I’m retracting my unequivocal support
as first date material. Still, the place lends itself (again in summer)
to warm casual strolls after the fact, or you can throw in the whole
kit and head over to the more conventionally upscale Vintage. (see
first entry.)