Power lunches.
Candlelit first dates.
Watching legions of amicable little manservants walking around with white linens draped over their forearms doing that subservient head-bow thing they do.
Yeah, none of those things are going to happen here...
Because this is City Dough, a come-as-you-damn-well-please new diner with just enough duck tacos and pig wings to make it feel like not really a diner at all, now open for breakfast and lunch in Lakeview.
Breakfast and lunch. Those are meals. Moreover, those are meals you’ll want to stop eating at other places and start eating here.
Mostly because it’s just a really pleasant place to do so. Bright-red stools at the counter. White tile walls. A stainless-steel-trimmed portal that looks into the open kitchen. That’s where they keep all the chefs. The kind who dedicate their lives to keeping you in chocolate croissants and raspberry-glazed donuts and pulled-pork sloppy joes.
So round up some office people. Follow the arrow on the red-white-and-blue sign that says “Eat.” It’ll lead you to an exposed-brick-ensconced nook with a handful of retro-looking tables.
If you reach the wall, you’ve gone too far.
Candlelit first dates.
Watching legions of amicable little manservants walking around with white linens draped over their forearms doing that subservient head-bow thing they do.
Yeah, none of those things are going to happen here...
Because this is City Dough, a come-as-you-damn-well-please new diner with just enough duck tacos and pig wings to make it feel like not really a diner at all, now open for breakfast and lunch in Lakeview.
Breakfast and lunch. Those are meals. Moreover, those are meals you’ll want to stop eating at other places and start eating here.
Mostly because it’s just a really pleasant place to do so. Bright-red stools at the counter. White tile walls. A stainless-steel-trimmed portal that looks into the open kitchen. That’s where they keep all the chefs. The kind who dedicate their lives to keeping you in chocolate croissants and raspberry-glazed donuts and pulled-pork sloppy joes.
So round up some office people. Follow the arrow on the red-white-and-blue sign that says “Eat.” It’ll lead you to an exposed-brick-ensconced nook with a handful of retro-looking tables.
If you reach the wall, you’ve gone too far.
