It’s taken us a couple days, but we’ve finally cracked it.
The answer to the Bears’ offensive line woes: tequila.
After all, it’s always helped your game.
Speaking of which, Patrón’s Hacienda, a new tequila hideout in River North with a serious sideline in steak and televised sports, opens Friday.
That’s right: a sports bar wrapped in a Mexican restaurant wrapped in a little steakhouse. A veritable turducken of your favorite things.
You’ll walk into what looks like a Mexican folk art museum—you always suspected one was lurking just below the surface of Coyote Ugly. Walk straight ahead for a nice sit-down dinner. You’ll find a slew of tacos, burritos and chimichangas, but you’ll probably gravitate to the filets and 20-ounce porterhouses, kicked up with Mexican marinade.
Yet just a gentle right, and suddenly you’re in the sports bar that Charo might open: flat-screens, crystal fixtures and velvet chandeliers the size of small communication satellites.
Here, “patrón” refers to the Spanish word for boss, not the tequila—but you’ll still find a wide variety of the latter on the menu. Now you can simultaneously analyze Cutler’s passing game along with 56 kinds of tequila. Or keep it simple with the Billionaire Margarita, made with a top-shelf Casa Noble and 100-year-old Grand Marnier.
At $25 each, make sure Oprah buys the first round.
The answer to the Bears’ offensive line woes: tequila.
After all, it’s always helped your game.
Speaking of which, Patrón’s Hacienda, a new tequila hideout in River North with a serious sideline in steak and televised sports, opens Friday.
That’s right: a sports bar wrapped in a Mexican restaurant wrapped in a little steakhouse. A veritable turducken of your favorite things.
You’ll walk into what looks like a Mexican folk art museum—you always suspected one was lurking just below the surface of Coyote Ugly. Walk straight ahead for a nice sit-down dinner. You’ll find a slew of tacos, burritos and chimichangas, but you’ll probably gravitate to the filets and 20-ounce porterhouses, kicked up with Mexican marinade.
Yet just a gentle right, and suddenly you’re in the sports bar that Charo might open: flat-screens, crystal fixtures and velvet chandeliers the size of small communication satellites.
Here, “patrón” refers to the Spanish word for boss, not the tequila—but you’ll still find a wide variety of the latter on the menu. Now you can simultaneously analyze Cutler’s passing game along with 56 kinds of tequila. Or keep it simple with the Billionaire Margarita, made with a top-shelf Casa Noble and 100-year-old Grand Marnier.
At $25 each, make sure Oprah buys the first round.
