Avondale — Beer, Burgers and Black Sabbath

After a few weeks of less-than-thrilling neighborhoods, Zack and I were a bit disillusioned, you could say. We were glad that Avondale was next — a neighborhood we’d heard of, relatively close by, with restaurant and bar reviews available. This was charted territory, and we were thankful for that. Avondale is a somewhat suburb-y neighborhood that straddles the Kennedy Expressway, just north of Logan Square. Most importantly to us, it isn’t the ghetto and it has bars.

We hopped on the Belmont bus near our apartment and took it west to Kuma’s Corner at Francisco. We had barely had time to do any research before this trip, so all we knew was that Kuma’s had a decent beer list — which is all we really needed to know. As we approached the door, Kuma’s appeared to be a quiet pub — so we were surprised upon entering to find ourselves in a heavy metal bar. The radio loudly played Slayer (I know because as the song ended, a tattooed/pierced female bartender screamed “MORE SLAYER!”), Judas Priest, Pantera and the like. A sign on the wall read “Die Emo, Die” beneath charcoal sketches of dominatrices and the album art of Mastodon, Municipal Waste, Aloke and so on.

The hostess told us it would be 30 minutes for a table, so we put our name in and went to the bar for a beer. I ordered a Surly, which, according to the bushy-bearded bartender, is “probably the best beer in history.” Zack ordered Great Lakes’ Nosferatu, and we stood by the bar observing the patrons packed into the place. It was an interesting mix of heavy metal and yuppy — biker chic, if you will.

One beer turned into a few more (Lagunita’s Censored, Eliot Ness, etc.) as our 30-min wait turned into over an hour. Eventually we were able to snag a couple seats at the bar and called for some menus. After an hour of watching these incredible burgers arrive at other people’s tables, we were ravenous for our own. Each burger on the list came on a pretzel bun and was named after a band: Black Sabbath, Dark Throne, Iron Maiden, etc. The burger of the month was the Lair of the Minotaur, whose ingredients (brie, pears, prosciutto and caramelized onions) weren’t as hard-core as its namesake. I got the Metallica burger (bleu cheese, buffalo sauce and bacon) and Zack got the Slayer — a huge pile of chili, fries, andouille and, as the menu claimed, “anger.” After finishing only half his plate, Zack gave into defeat (“Wow…that was the most demoralizing meal I’ve ever eaten”).

We were reluctant to leave Kuma’s — the beer was great and the burgers were amazing — but it was time to move on. We hopped back on the bus and headed further west to Pulaski, where we found the Belford Tavern — a bar that felt more like a liquor store. The fluorescent lights were on and the bar was stocked with bottom-shelf liquor (with the price of a shot listed beneath each bottle) and cigarettes. I was thankful for the Chicago smoking ban — this place was surely a cloud of smoke just a few weeks ago.
We didn’t stay long at the Belford Tavern — just long enough for a drink each. Next stop was Brudders, a big sports bar with lots of old-school TVs (no flat screens) and dance music playing loudly for the relatively sparse crowd. (Go to the website for an idea of what this bar was like: SPORTS BAR... NITE CLUB.... COMPLETE PACKAGE!) After just a beer each, we were ready to retire. The night had pretty much gone downhill after we left Kuma’s — but I guess it was hard to live up to.

Avondale wasn’t the most exciting neighborhood, but after the desolation of the last couple weeks it was a relief. I’ll definitely bring my metal/burger-loving friends there sometime.