photo: courtesy of Clifton Henri
Drink of the week: A bucket of mini bottles of beer (Heineken, Corona and Rolling Rock) at
Minnies, 1969 N. Halsted St.
The damage: $15.
Thousands of bars in Chicago, why this one? I'm always a bit skeptical of gimmicky restaurants, so I wrote-off Minnies, with its mini sandwich concept, as a White-Castle-wannabe. And, let's face it, if you're going to imitate a restaurant, the slider-haven shouldn't be it. Then my friend swapped his post-bar burrito routine for Minnies' 24-hour to-go window, claiming its sammies pack so much drunken relief you'd think they were marinated in ibuprofen—again with the White Castle references. Nevertheless, when I found myself hungry on Halsted last weekend, I decided to give the retro-style restaurant a go.
How it went down: Rather than pulling up to its take-out window, I grabbed a seat inside at a red booth, beside a black-and-white photograph of two women circa 1945. When my waitress plopped down two shrunken glasses of water with teeny ice cubes, I wondered what was next…Barbie-doll-size silverware, a plate of nachos made with chip crumbs? As I gazed at the sandwich choices, though, I started to love the idea of having a side of a grilled brie baguette with my tuna melt. Then I saw the drink list.
When it comes to boozing, I usually operate under a more-is-better mindset; the thought of raising a baby brew to toast my Sunday evening felt slightly depressing, but I decided to stick to the theme and order a bucket of six mini bottles—two each of Heineken, Corona and Rolling Rock. Measuring just over half a normal-size beer each (seven ounces), the bottles reminded me of the local beer I drank when I studied abroad in South America. A standard 12-ounce bottle of American beer felt as heavy as a keg after sipping eight-ounce Cerveza Polar for a semester. But while my Venezuelan small suds cost just about 90 cents each, Minnies charges $2.50. To be fair, I could've ordered a full pint of Amstel Light or Fat Tire (among others) for $5, but I was going for open-minded.
Would I want to become a regular? Aside from the booze, the turkey burger, packed with herbs and topped with Swiss, boasted far more flavor than the Castle's square-shaped patties, and the crispy, perfectly seasoned pomme frites came with a killer mayo-based dipping sauce touched with garlic, chives and basil. The tot-friendly fare (and Lincoln Park location) meant there were quite a few youngsters running around, but rather than grating on me like a restaurant-theme gone wrong, they added a bit of fun. Even kiddies can be fun in small doses.
Dana Kavan scours the city for drink deals so good you'll offer to buy a round and creative libations that outshine your average on-the-rocks concoctions. Want to give Dana tips on where to rack up a bar tab? Share your finds before her next night out.