It's too late for Hollarann, unfortunately, as Jack comes up behind him and slices right through him. Just as Jack is limping through the hotel, clutching his ax, Hollarann calls out to see if anyone is home. Meanwhile, Hallorann, who has been communicating with Danny via the Shine, arrives at the Overlook Hotel. She finds instead Jack's manuscript he's been slaving away over, which to her horror, is hundreds of pages with only one sentence repeated over and over again: "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy." Clutching a bat in her hand in trepidation, Wendy carefully walks toward Jack's usual writing table only to find he isn't there. The next day, Wendy leaves Danny (who, according to "Tony," has checked out) in their room while she goes to confront Jack. Danny is using his gift to contact Dick Hallorann ( Scatman Crothers), the Overlook Hotel's head chef who also possesses the "Shine." Grady's message to Jack is clear: Danny and Wendy must be "corrected," just as he corrected his wife and daughters. It’s a far more intimate and subdued space, where beverage director Kevin Beary can spotlight more refined drinks anchored by esoteric rums and rhum agricoles.Grady warns Jack that his son Danny has a special gift - the "Shine," which in Stephen King's universe is a form of psychic ability that allows people to communicate with others using the mind, and gives people the ability to see things that have happened in the past, or will happen in the future. Doubling down on the secrecy, Three Dots added a speakeasy-within-a-speakeasy, The Bamboo Room. Rum-centric drinks are served in elaborate-and highly sought-after-tiki mugs, along with gussied-up Polynesian faves like crab rangoon and spring rolls. It all culminates in a sprawling windowless room that feels more Disney World than Chicago, albeit decidedly more adult. That’s thanks as much to its masterful mixology, its immersive Pirates of the Caribbean-esque atmosphere, and its groundbreaking premise-guests follow a series of flickering tiki torches down a River North alley, then enter an unmarked door into a long hallway lined with glowing skulls. When it first opened its hidden alleyway door in 2013, at the forefront of the nationwide tiki renaissance, Three Dots and a Dash quickly cemented itself as one of the most quintessential bars in the country. How to book: Nine Bar does not take reservations, so arrive on the earlier side (pre-7 pm) to stake out a seat. Come hungry too, ‘cause the snackable food menu is packed with heavy-hitters like mapo hot fries, a McKatsu fried pork sandwich, and crispy cauliflower in Chinese orange sauce. This being Chinatown, look for Chinese-inspired tipples and spirits, including lots of highballs, sakes, and a masterful Mai Tai made with almond cookie orgeat. Housed in what was once a dining room for the restaurant, the alluring bar is marked only by a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it sign that bears the Chinese characters for “Nine Bar,” which gives way to a sexy den filled with lounge chairs, stools, a DJ booth, and flashes of neon. That all changed in 2022, when Nine Bar emerged as the neighborhood’s first cocktail bar, a dimly lit speakeasy nestled behind Moon Palace Express. Photo courtesy of Osito's TapĬhicago’s Chinatown has long been a haven of soup dumplings and chili chicken, but craft cocktails? Not so much. How to book: Stop by for first come, first served seating. The bar can be accessed by entering through the red door on Chicago Avenue, just past The Martin gallery’s entrance. While billing itself a “neighborhood lesbian cocktail lounge,” all are welcome (except homophobes) to come partake in snazzy cocktails like Bad Poetry, made with coffee liqueur, mezcal, Campari, and egg white. Dorothy is located underneath Split-Rail, the lesbian-owned restaurant known for its killer fried chicken, and it harkens to ‘70s glam with a retro motif filled with disco balls, wood paneling, vintage furniture, and velvety wallpaper. Today, a new-ish bar in Ukrainian Village pays homage as a subterranean speakeasy-style oasis. In decades past, discreet queer folks identified each other with the phrase “a friend of Dorothy,” so as to find solidarity without blatantly outing themselves. For different reasons, LGBTQIA+ bars have long been forced to operate at some level of discretion, in order to protect its patrons from homophobia and raids.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Details
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |