Us: Bet we can make you want to go to Evanston later this week.
You: Bet you can’t.
Us: No, really. Look here.
You: Damn.
And lo, you enter a vehicle and make haste to Whiskey Thief—a comely old-world bar from some Pearl Tavern people and an ex-Hogsalt chef involving cheese-curd-topped burgers, bacon-wrapped things and a whiskey cart full of whiskey. It opens on Thursday, and here’s that slideshow again.
What you’ll find when you arrive is an inviting space outfitted with gray felt booths, Prohibition-era photos and a fireplace-having library. Not to mention a row of semiprivate booths housed in barrel-shaped structures. Which probably requires no further explanation.
Dinner will consist of crab-filled deviled eggs, the burger of your choice and/or this entire menu. Perhaps a Hanging Acrobat, comprised of bourbon, honey, lemon and allspice dram, is also in order. Unless, of course, you’d prefer to sample one of their 70-some whiskeys straight-up.
In that case, don’t be alarmed if you see an otherwise-unassuming cart coming your way, bearing the finely aged spirit of your choice.
Really. There’s no cause for alarm.
You: Bet you can’t.
Us: No, really. Look here.
You: Damn.
And lo, you enter a vehicle and make haste to Whiskey Thief—a comely old-world bar from some Pearl Tavern people and an ex-Hogsalt chef involving cheese-curd-topped burgers, bacon-wrapped things and a whiskey cart full of whiskey. It opens on Thursday, and here’s that slideshow again.
What you’ll find when you arrive is an inviting space outfitted with gray felt booths, Prohibition-era photos and a fireplace-having library. Not to mention a row of semiprivate booths housed in barrel-shaped structures. Which probably requires no further explanation.
Dinner will consist of crab-filled deviled eggs, the burger of your choice and/or this entire menu. Perhaps a Hanging Acrobat, comprised of bourbon, honey, lemon and allspice dram, is also in order. Unless, of course, you’d prefer to sample one of their 70-some whiskeys straight-up.
In that case, don’t be alarmed if you see an otherwise-unassuming cart coming your way, bearing the finely aged spirit of your choice.
Really. There’s no cause for alarm.
