Though it was dead as a doornail on the Saturday night I swung by, you should still visit the Lincoln Tavern, if only to find out about its colorful history. The building, constructed in 1890, began its life as a bar. A few decades later, during big and nasty Prohibition, the tavern cleaned up its act, becoming an ice cream parlor (we've guessing it didn't offer rum raisin). Once tippling became legal again, the space was reborn as a bar, and has been family-owned and operated since the 1950s.

Aesthetically speaking, Lincoln Tavern has little in common with its Wicker Park brethren. In fact, walking into Lincoln Tavern feels akin to walking into a hunting lodge in Wisconsin; there are wooden panels, hanging lights constructed from deer antlers, paintings of hunting dogs and ducks flying out into the air and other hunting paraphernalia. The bar itself has a pretty no-nonsense attitude about it (there are only four beers on tap, one of which is PBR), as does the dining room. It seats about 30 and can fill up quickly on Friday night, which is when Lincoln Tavern serves hearty dishes like roast duck and lumberjack pork chops.

(One last interesting tidbit: The reason the Lincoln Tavern has its name is because the side street it's on, Wolcott, was called Lincoln Avenue until the 1940s.)

Centerstage Reviewer: Jon Graef