
Prairie Fire, the latest restaurant from Sarah Stegner and George Bumbaris of suburban Prairie Grass Cafe, opened today in the former Powerhouse space at 215 N. Clinton. The extensive, eclectic menu ranges from appetizers like warm baked feta with banana peppers, duck and chicken liver patés, Asian-style shrimp and ahi tuna, and pizzas to 20 entrees including steaks, Greek-influenced dishes, five fish preparations, and a breaded pork schnitzel.
Leo's Coney Island of Chicago, the local outlet of a Detroit mainstay for Coney dogs, breakfast, burgers, and other diner standards, opened soft in Lakeview last week; its official opening is Monday, February 15.
Chef Cary Taylor’s regional-American reworking of Chaise Lounge, the Southern, opened Friday, featuring dishes with a southern twist such as duck cassoulet with black-eyed peas. There’s also a decent selection of cocktails (including mint juleps and Planter’s Punch), bourbons, and southern beers at what’s touted as being a “kickass bar.”
Two north-side shoe shops recently announced they're closing: City Soles is shuttering its satellite location on Southport due to "economic reasons and the close of commercial credit," said owner Scott Starbuck. And The Dressing Room Shoes in Lincoln Square is saying good-bye as well (although the original Dressing Room, just a few doors down, will remain open). Stop in for half-off on remaining styles.
Most people probably only know two Golden Earring songs, tops: the 1973 slab of guitar boogie "Radar Love" and the schlocky 1982 synth-rock hit "Twilight Zone." These Dutch boys actually started out in the early 60s as Golden Earrings (named after a pop standard that the band Gandalf would later reimagine as an amazing hippie-soul number) and spent that decade exploring garage and psychedelic music. During those years they were way weirder and cooler than you'd guess from listening to "Twilight Zone"—according to the band's Wikipedia page their cover of the Byrds' "Eight Miles High" could last as long as 45 minutes.
Their big hit in the Netherlands during that time was "Dong Dong Diki Diki Dong," an enjoyably ditzy piece of psych pop with one of the most embarrassing titles in rock history. My personal jam of the moment, though, is a few years older and comes from a time when the group had a darker garage sound. "Daddy Buy Me a Girl" is a pretty song, filled out with Autoharp and 12-string guitar, but it's got a bite of menace in its aftertaste that I find addictive. Given that it's a song about a broken-hearted rich kid who's been burned by a gold digger, it only makes sense that the band filmed a video where they take a hot chick to the circus:
Since Toni Preckwinkle won the Democratic nomination for county board president last week, I’ve heard lots of people saying it represents the return of the Washington coalition—a band of independent-minded African-Americans, Latinos, and whites who want to whip local government into shape.
There are a couple of problems with the comparison.

Bravo to the great Calumet Fisheries, which was just given one of the James Beard Foundation's America's Classics Awards honoring "small, regional restaurants, watering holes, shacks, lunch counters, and similar down-home eateries that have carved out a special place on the American culinary landscape."
Following last year's feature on No Reservations, the humble south-side shack's profile has blown up quite a bit. But it wasn't always so.
Why are Superbowl commercials, hailed for their creativity, often so casually sexist, racist, and homophobic? Credit the watchful eye of the CBS Standards and Practices department, which ensures that Superbowl ads bring in millions of viewers looking to be shocked—without offending their delicate sensibilities.
To achieve this difficult balance, ad makers are forced to play within a very small range of acceptably “outrageous” topics. Since casual sexism, racism, and homophobia are main sources of shock-jock humor—and since these attitudes are too pervasive to inspire true outrage in the average American—companies compete to put the most creative twist on the lazy stereotyping without going too far off the deep end. And so: CBS bans an ad that shows two gay men kissing, but greenlights several commercials that play off “gay” stuff for laughs. It bans an ad that shows a guy’s head up his own ass, but lets fly a commercial that makes fun of those silly, backward South Asians who answer your tech support calls (racism: officially less controversial than asses). Even the advertisement decried as the most “controversial” of the evening—college football superstar Tim Tebow’s antiabortion ad—concluded not with a politically controversial rallying call for life, but with Tebow totally sacking his own mother. That’s gotta sting!
Continue reading "Why Superbowl Ads Are So Racist, Sexist, and Homophobic">>