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If you haven't figured it out by now, the Chicagoist offices have a "Top Chef" fever. How the makeup artists at Bravo make Gail Simmons (pictured) look not so Canadian, we'll never know. But we thank them.
Anyway, there are some readers who don't have cable or satellite who are interested in wanting to catch the fever. There are a few places around town that host "Top Chef" screenings in a lively atmosphere.
Cans in Wicker Park would seem a most unlikely place to view "Top Chef." But they have screenings every Wednesday, to go along with their Wednesday specials of $1 sliders and $4 big cans. Do your hair up in a faux hawk and cheer on Richard and his twin Jennifer.
Kit Kat Lounge & Supper Club goes all out for "Top Chef," with martini and dinner specials every week to go along with catty commentary about the (ugh) chef*testants and Padma (they'll probably show no mercy to special guest Richard Roeper in this evening's episode). They also have it down to a science, having segued straight from "Project Runway" directly into "Top Chef."
Uptown residents can head to Crew, where "TC" is screened every Wednesday among the sports shows. We've heard that th screenings at Crew can get a little lively.
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Or at my apartment on the sunny side of Milwaukee Avenue!
Not to be missed to any visit of Wicker Park, Patrick's apartment houses one angry service industry employee/cartoonist/political operative who apparently never has alcohol on hand. On most weekday nights, you can find him cheating to beat someone in MLB 2K8 on the XBox or forcing someone to watch a phenomenally obscure stand-up comedian you've never heard of. Or he may have just finished cooking some crazy ass cupcake flavored with balsamic vinegar. But on Wednesdays, it's just him, "Top Chef", and a microwaved honeydew melon.
Guests of the "Patcave" will notice the tinge of b.o. in the air as Patrick hates doing laundry. The decor could generously be referred to as "eclectic" and more realistically called "homeless squatter". Seated on a futon (of Swedish design) that has grown squished and distended over the years of supporting Patrick's ample frame, the host holds court over lengthy "Parisian salon style" discussions such as "The nature of mind in a modern Western society", "Garfield's Jim Davis can suck my cock", and "Why I'm incapable of ever deserving love". Even the heartiest of thrill-seekers may be encouraged to avoid the topic of Dane Cook or Carlos Mencia.
BYOB. Be sure to inquire about the bathroom meth lab. Reservations not required, but encouraged.
Those are weird ways to spell "bittorrent".
As Plumbum's neighbor, that's pretty accurate.
As his ex, I'd like to point out he skipped a couple of highlights. Namely the family of mice that scurry behind the oven, the constantly empty refrigerator combined with a sink overflowing with dishes (from said balsamic vinegar cupcakes) and the trunk, something I never had the guts to open for fear the stench I smelled was actually a dead body.
PlumBum - I AM SO THERE.