Vintage Chicago Dining

Step inside the doorways of these charming Chicago restaurants, and you will be transported back in time. This was Chicago before north Michigan Avenue was magnificent and the John Hancock was dwarfed by other skyscrapers.

Many of Chicago’s original restaurants have disappeared, but a few remain operational. Walk by those chain venues that you can find in any city and visit one of our original Chicago icons.

The Italian Village has been in Chicago since 1927, and their website claims they are the oldest continual operating restaurant in the city. This place is pure charm – I have loved it since I was a little girl. When you enter, walk up the narrow steep staircase to the Village (one of the the buildings three restaurants). The Village – perched at the very top – is decorated to resemble a little outdoor Italian city with the fake facades of buildings and twinkling lights that are strung crisscrossed around the room. Old school male waiters might scold you if you don’t finish your enormous plate of pasta.

You don’t really go to the Italian Village for the food – yes, the pasta is good and pizza is not bad – but the atmosphere will delight you. My parents would go here to celebrate their anniversary after their marriage in 1962. It is a place where time has almost stood still. Romantic, cozy, and full of vintage charm.

Italian Village – 71 W. Monroe, Chicago, IL

La Creperie on north Clark Street is a Parisian style crepe restaurant. The restaurant, which has been in its same location since 1972, has a dark-wooded interior with uneven floors, wooden furniture and travel posters. In the far back, there is a tiny patio with vine-covered walls and a burbling fountain.

This place, in the words of one reviewer, makes you think you are in a 1960s French film. Quaint and simple. No avant-garde French fusion here. Order the chicken and mushroom crepe with a house salad. Save room for a chocolate and banana crepe for dessert and a coffee.

When a family member died, La Creperie shuttered its doors. But, the recent word in Chicago is that the place has been bought and will reopen in its original location and with nothing substantial changed. C'est magnifique!!!

La Creperie - 2845 N. Clark, Chicago, IL

Billy Goat Tavern is a Chicago journalism icon. Newspaper writers and editors from the Chicago Tribune and Sun Times would gather in the back room to argue, eat greasy hamburgers, and have a beer. To find Billy Goat, you have to climb the stairs below Michigan Ave. (just north of the river). In the dark underbelly of lower Michigan, the neon glow of the Billy Goat sign will greet you.

The hamburger joint was immortalized by John Belushi and Dan Akroyd on Saturday Night Live. You order at the counter, and the only real choice is a double cheeseburger and a coke. “No fries, chips.” The burgers are excellent with home-baked buns and thick-cut pickles, but it is the lingering scent of grease and the smoke-stained walls that make this a Chicago icon.

Recent news has suggested that the location is threatened to close due to renovation on Michigan Ave. I, for one, will be sad if this place ever shutters its doors. Chicago will not be the same!

Billy Goat Tavern, 430 N. Michigan Ave. (lower level), Chicago, IL

Mary McLeod Bethune: She Has Given Her Best

I first heard about Mary McLeod Bethune when I was a student at Moody Bible Institute. She was an early graduate of my college - and an African American woman. I knew she had gone on to become one of the greatest women in our country. She was so well known that she earned the status of being featured on our postage stamps. But I didn't really know much about her. As I researched Mary McLeod Bethune for my book, When Others Shuddered: Eight Women Who Refused to Give Up . I learned a bit more about her remarkable life: She was the 15th of 17 children, born to former slaves. From an early age, she hungered for education. She graduated from Moody Bible Institute with a desire for missionary service to Africa - an opportunity she was denied because of her race. Undeterred, she started a school for African American girls in Daytona Beach, Florida, that went on to become Bethune Cookman University. She was asked to work with Franklin D. Roosevelt and led many African Am

Pacific Garden Mission: A Bed, A Meal and the Bright Light of Hope

In 1877, a woman named Sarah Dunn Clarke and her newly-wedded husband George started a rescue mission on Chicago’s south side. They were wealthy, but their hearts were broken by the men and women who struggled to survive on the city’s streets. The Pacific Garden Mission is the 2 nd oldest operating rescue mission in the United States. Now located on 14 th St and Canal – just south of Chicago’s loop – they offer shelter to as many as a thousand men and women on any given night. As part of my book research to understand how the work of Sarah Clarke continues today, I visited the mission with my friend Dawn Pulgine. Entering through the side, we felt a bit out of our element. Men, black and white, old and young, clustered near the doorway. Some carried bags of personal belongings. Others were working the desk and security. It was mid-day at the Mission. We were given a tour by one of the “program men” – residents who choose to stay and live at the

Your Roots Are Showing

I'm older. I know that. But, honestly, I still feel pretty young. Well, most days at least Today I received a not-requested senior discount at Einstein Bagels. It appeared as a $1.03 credit on my receipt, along with the cheery explanation. And if other people don't tell me I'm older, my body definitely does. I traveled to and from Chicago last week with my daughter and her friend. Being the self sufficient woman I am, I helped the girls boost their luggage into the airline's overhead bin. Later that day, I felt my mistake. My back has not been happy ever since. I've been putting those sticky heat patches on it, Ben Gay rub, ice, heat wraps, you name it. And still when I turn incorrectly . . . ouch. There are other signs too. I wear glasses now . . . all the time. It started with readers, and then progressed to progressives. And I HAVE to color my hair now. Those pesky roots keep reappearing in an ever-shinier shade of silver. I (briefly) considered embr

Jamie Janosz

Search This Blog