The club-hopping cognoscenti have their own language—slang that, at one time, only a true nightlife enthusiast would use and/or understand, but that has begun, at least in part, to creep into the everyday vernacular (to wit, the “-ster” variations: scenester, hipster, clubster). Don’t be left sounding like your elderly grandma. Do learn the lingo; then post your own additions below for consideration in future updates…
The Guy I’m Seeing met my parents a month ago, on the night of their 40th anniversary, at a party they held for 60 of their nearest and dearest. At the time, we were only a month or so into the relationship; usually I wouldn’t have thrown someone to the pack of wolves so soon, but, well, who doesn’t like a good party? Plus, dodging the question “What’s new in your life?” with “Work is going great!” was getting old. Now I could just shove TGIS in the face of anyone who asked.
We also agreed it would be a strategic move: With so many friends around, my parents would be too distracted to interrogate him. The plan…
Last year, Americans spent $15 billion on bottled water. Turns out, the joke’s on us: Not only are top sellers Aquafina and Dasani just bottled public water, but the wasteful plastic packaging will still be lingering in the year 3000. But do water snobs have a valid argument that private water tastes better than tap?
Puck Outta Here
Wolfgang Puck Grand Cafe (1701 Maple St., Evanston), the bustling spot next to Evanston’s Century Theatres, unexpectedly shuttered its doors on September 16th. Employees were called Sunday night and told the seven-year-old restaurant would not be opening Monday morning. The Puck organization, which is giving much of its leftover food to local charities, released a succinct public statement that read, in part: “Due to rising operating costs we are not able to afford the quality and price value our customers deserve.” Then it closed out with an emphatic, “Live, Love, Eat!” Just not in…
Quick panini picks
Aristocratic dining in River North
News Flash
We have learned that the upcoming October issue of Saveur (on newsstands next week)—the whole thing!—will be dedicated to the foods of Chicago. Just check out the scrumptious cover.
“There are no good men in Chicago.” Common sense aside, it’s a phrase I’ve heard almost every one of my single girlfriends say. Heck, I said it a few dozen times myself before I re-met the guy I’m currently seeing, four years after our first blind date (more on that later).
Most recently, I heard it from my newly single friend Debbie, 29, who came back to visit her hometown of Chicago while she mends her broken heart. “There are plenty of needles in the haystack,” I told her over poached eggs Saturday at Silver Cloud, where we were brunching with several friends. “You’ll find him when you’re not looking.” Trite? Sure. But I firmly believe you meet people in unlikely settings at unlikely times…
Guthries Tavern, English, Lucky Strike Lanes, Chaise Lounge, and Flatwater
Curtained-off cabanas are ubiquitous in South Beach; now Chicago is jumping on the bandwagon. The latest place banking on semiprivacy is NV Penthouse Lounge (116 W. Hubbard St.), whose owners were aiming for an August opening at press time.
