The snarky title perhaps suggests a slam which this review will not be. I had a nice meal at Bourbon, a new spot in the former Tombo space (best-looking underwhelming sushi spot in town), and everybody was nice as all get out (if, I suspect, put a bit on alert by the prospect that the guy taking pictures might be
somebody-- but they were nice before I started taking pictures).
But Bourbon has its niche and that's a fact. JeffB came up with the perfect term "Big Ten Bar" to sum up those Chicago places dominated by ESPN HD and pennants from
their favorite Fritz Lang movie, and Bourbon is a Big Ten chichi restaurant, a place which combines minimalist decor in Hot Chocolate brown with a big bar and lots of TVs. The purpose in life of a Big Ten chichi restaurant is to allow Trixie to have a nice meal while Chad is never deprived of his continuous MLB feed. Bourbon will keep them both happy.
Bourbon's thing is, unsurprisingly, bourbon. That's the list-- someone else can judge if there are cool unknown things on it or not-- and here's what I had, the self-proclaimed Bourbon Manhattan Martini, hard to say what made it a Manhattan Martini versus simply a Manhattan, since they both have vermouth and neither had gin; but a perfectly nice, and almost
Gale Street-stiff, Makers' Mark Manhattan.
Appetizers leaned heavily toward upscale bar snacky stuff with a Southerny-Cajuny twist-- bourbon shrimp, alligator chunks, that sort of thing. Likewise the sandwiches. Dining solo, I passed on both and went straight to an entree, though they looked pretty ambitious for bar food.
Nicely-prepared slices of pork loin, dotted with real bacon bits in a cream sauce, with bourbon-glazed veggies and spinach. Based, a bit unfairly, on one dish, I thought Bourbon was quite impressive for a bar, and perfectly acceptable for a restaurant, though not reaching quite as accomplished a level as, say,
Mrs. Murphy and Sons, which also seems to be oriented a bit toward that Big Ten crowd (or close enough, since Notre Dame is not a Big Ten school, or so my ten seconds' Google research indicates).
Bourbon creme brulee finished the meal. It was fine, not that bourbony. I could have taken more. I could have gone mano a mano with your creme brulee, dude! Bring it on!
Anyway, for a place whose target audience I am definitely not, I had a pretty good meal at Bourbon-- certainly far better than at the nearest ersatz Cajun-sports-bar joint, Blue Bayou-- and they're definitely an improvement on the previous place in their hot Roscoe Village space.
Bourbon
3244 N. Lincoln Ave., Chicago
(773) 880-9520