No place says Chicago like Miller’s Pub. Underneath the cannonball-like rumble of the EL on Wabash in Downtown, Miller’s Pub is a bustling joint serving great food and drinks all day long and long into the night.

Established in 1935, entering Miller’s is like entering a maze. A series of quick right turns will get you to an expansive bar that takes up the entire north wall. Table seating is in the center and left side of the room. The décor is made up primarily of photographs of local and national celebrities and politicians. In fact, you can bet over the decades many an inspired political discussion has taken place, quite possibly with the veteran bartenders dressed in black vest and tie.

The left corner of the bar is a Shrine to Chicago Sports. Infamous Chicago White Sox owner Bill Veeck would put a leg up in the corner of the bar, which is cluttered with many photos of White Sox and Cub players.

Canadian Baby Back Ribs are the staple of this place, and two bright neon signs on the front of the place immodestly state “Famous B.B.Q Ribs.” They are delicious and plentiful as are the variety of steaks, seafood (broiled and fried) and chops. As juxtaposition, behind the bar are the painted images of sad faced hobos, as if they are longing for one of Miller’s Pub’s satisfying meals. Although the prices are quite reasonable – steaks and chops in the mid $20’s and ribs slightly less – and would be in line with a bum’s budget.

Definitely not a place for a quiet evening out, Miller’s is loud and a bit rowdy. The staff is always scurrying to accommodate the needs of the patrons. The bar is open from 10 AM to 4 AM and the kitchen serves from 11AM to 2 AM, so the tables turn throughout the day with business people, laborers, hospitality workers, theatre goers, and sports fans looking to soak up a local Chicago landmark.

Frank Sinatra is said to have been among the celebrities that would visit the storied bar. As Sinatra might say “My kind of pub. Miller’s is.” D.M.

Nutritionists say that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. In Chicago it is if you head to Lou Mitchell’s, a place that has been serving America’s best breakfast for over 80 years.

I’m not a morning person. My typical day starts with gallons of hot coffee to jumpstart my body in time for my first meal: lunch. But when in Chicago, I leap out of bed like a kid on the last day of school. I connot remember ever starting a Saturday in Chicago with starting with breakfast at Lou Mitchell’s.

Your meal begins with the customary large prune and wedge of orange. Juices are fresh squeezed, and the pastries are all made fresh daily. Even the marmalade is homemade, which you can spread on the Greek Toast or Raisin Toast that is almost a meal in itself. Coffee is served with pure cream. They take breakfast very seriously at Lou Mitchell’s.

The kitchen works with the efficiency of a drill team. The staff seems to have been there over 80 years as well. Pancakes and waffles are spectacular staples, but it is the roster of 20 perfectly prepared omelets that dazzle. Creativity has gone into the fluffy egg concoctions. Where else would you find an omelet with Michigan Sugar Sweet Apples and Old English Cheddar or Cottage Cheese, Bacon and Tomato?

“May I butter your toast?” the pleasant senior waitress asked with sincerity and conviction. “I would be honored” I snickered. This place isn’t your normal diner or Denny’s, where you have to duck as the bread plate is flung your way.

Lines are long but move quickly. If alone, see if you can sneak in for counter service. I also understand that they serve another meal day part called lunch, but after a Lou Mitchell’s breakfast, it will be a late dinner that will be your next meal.

As is the Lou Mitchell’s tradition, a bowl of free donut holes and Milk Duds await as you pay the cashier in cash only and exit. During one visit, the restaurant was out of Milk Duds. The employees were sad and apologetic, as if a friend of the family had just past away. Even the sign “Sorry. No Milk Duds today.” seemed to frown with disappointment.

Lou Mitchell’s has been in the same location since 1923. No doubt generations have stood in line outside enjoying beautiful summers and brutal winters. But it is worth the wait under any conditions. This is America’s best breakfast place, and in Chicago, that is important. – D.M.

There is a place in Chicago’s northern playground that beats your typical resort bar.  In fact, there is nothing typical about this bar down to the license plate covered interior featuring a favorite vanity plate: NOT OJ.

Foley’s in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin is good enough of a place that it can survive year round, not just when the vacation crowd comes into town to jam up traffic and clog the lake.  This is a bar that measures up in any locale.

The outside is nothing special.  Plenty of parking and bright beer neons in the windows make the place more inviting.

Inside, an outstanding juke box chock full of Rock and Roll is supported by an excellent sound system.  Televisions surround the rectangular bar and a big screen in the side room shows the day’s sports.  A four quarter-a-play pool table is in the center of the side room.

A grill behind the bar makes bar munchies, burgers and other sandwiches including a salmon sandwich for under six bucks.  The owner Mike Foley is bound to greet you at the door, and when provoked will play Red Peters luwd standard “Bl*w Me.”  No one seems to mind.

Daytime could be filled with the chopper crowd.  Nighttime is younger and more collegiate, although the joke is that Foley’s is frequented more by students of Whitewater than by U of W Madison.  I think I get it.

Watch out for the cops: this place beckons for a designated driver (as I was on my last visit) or extreme moderation.  As with most resort town cops, Lake Geneva’s finest look for speeders by day and weavers by night.

It is refreshing when in a summer resort town to find a place that locals embrace and where visitors are welcome.  On Highway 50 but off the beaten path of ice cream shops and breakfast places – does everyone have a big breakfast when on vacation? – one could miss Foley’s if hell bent on seeing the lake.  You’ll find no nautical references here; in fact Foley’s may be the only place that thrives in Lake Geneva that is about a mile from the lake’s view.  But dive on in, the temperature at Foley’s is fine. D.M.

Have you ever liked a joint so much that you stay across the street from it when in town?  I have, willing to sacrifice a luxurious stay at a fine downtown hotel for an overpriced stay at the Marriott Courtyard, just to be within walking distance of O’Callaghan’s on Hubbard Street.

An Irish green storefront, O’Callaghan’s has a few outdoor tables that can be used on the days in Chicago that aren’t winter.  Entering the small door and walking up the stairs at O’Callaghan’s is quite a challenge.  Not because imbibing has brought on a loss of balance.  Heck, the bar is at the top of the stairs.  It is just that at the bottom of the stairs, at the entrance, rests one of Chicago’s best jukeboxes causing serious tune searching even before wetting your whistle.

The bar is long and narrow with tables at your back.  The great-recorded music resonates off of the brick walls.  A half a dozen TV’s are strategically placed for viewing sports, which in Chicago is a birthright.  A basket of mini-pretzel twists and a small bowl of mustard are the bar snack.

The crowd is typically thirty-something yuppie, with a good balance of men to women.  A wide beer selection exists with about 20 available on tap.  The menu is full of great burgers, melts, salads and a must for the Chicago winters: homemade soup.

I’ve spent many evenings at O’Callaghans lamenting a sports loss: either feeding the horses at Arlington Park, watching ‘da Bears beat my beloved Raiders, or watching the Cubs lose to Cal State Fullerton or Little Sisters of the Poor.   Some how I feel better after a few hours of counseling from the friendly staff.  By the way, O’Callaghan’s stays open until 4 a.m., which explains in part why I stay across the street.

Walking down the stairs is less of a challenge than walking up, especially if your jukebox set is done and you are staying across the street.  Watch out for the revolving door at the Courtyard, however. – D.M.

The great debate. Creation or Evolution? On the north side of Chicago, the great debate is not over how we started, but where we start before a Cubs game. With the seemingly endless amount of bars in Wrigleyville, it is difficult to zero in on the best. Is it Murphy’s Bleachers? How about Cubby Bear? After much research through another painful Cub season, it is time to announce a natural selection.

The Sports Corner is the best bar in Wrigleyville, because it is a bar. Not the economic juggernaut that is Murphy’s, where it is easier to buy a t-shirt than a drink before game time. Not the Corner’s sister venue the raucous Cubby Bear, where fans slosh through the empty plastic draft beer cups just to get a chance to bite their lower lip and writhe out of sync to N’Sync on the dance floor.

The Sports Corner wins because it provides the basics. Cold beer. Nice staff. Plenty of TV’s for sports viewing. A solid bratwurst, Lou’s Famous Chili and other items flow out of a busy kitchen. And although the bar is small, the patrons just seem to be friendlier than those that frequent the other locales.

One day at the Sports Corner, I remember telling the story to the guys on my right of my recently acquired ticket from a street scalper for a Cubs playoff game. About to celebrate my overpriced illegal acquisition with an Old Style and a shot, I asked the listeners what they did for a living. “We’re cops” they said, and before the words of my punishable venture had hit the ground, the guys said that I should not have bought a ticket off of the street. “You should have asked us. We wouldn’t have charged as much.”

Another day at the Sports Corner, I remember telling the story to the guys on my left about my travels that morning from Dallas to Chicago for the Cubs versus White Sox game. “That’s nothing,” the pasty Irish guy with the chipped tooth said, “we came up from the South Side.” With that we all hoisted a shot, except for the designated driver whose turn it was to return his friends safely to WhiteSoxland after the game.

The bar boasts that it is “the #3 rated sports bar in Chicagoland.” Hey, when you are across from Wrigley Field, you don’t know how to handle success. The bar is open seven days a week from 10 am until 2:00 am.

So when it is over and done, the Sports Corner wins. Here’s hoping one day the Cubs might do the same. – D. M.

UPDATE – Upon trying to renovate the Sports Corner, apparently ownership found it would be easier to tear the place down and start anew. So while missing the 2009 Cubs season – as many of the Cubs have appeared to do – look for the new and improved Sports Corner for 2010. For now, it is wait until next year.