Soon all the names will run out.
This is for worse and for better. It seems to have authorized lesser watering holes to charge Violet Hour prices for what’s often pomegranate swill. On the other hand, it’s created a bona fide market, in which both bartenders and drinkers can pursue their own interests: gin at Scofflaw, complicated glassware at the Aviary, tiki drinks at Paul McGee’s forthcoming Three Dots and a Dash.
Now seems to be a good time to mention that Matthias Merges (Yusho), Billy Sunday’s owner, has said that he planned his cuisine in the style of “1940s and 1950s dinners at Grandma’s house.” I’m not sure who Merges’s grandma is, but perhaps somebody can introduce us? On the other hand, the menu’s single salad—generic dressing, rock-hard bacon bits—was closer to the middle of the traditional grandma-cuisine spectrum. In conception, so was a rabbit pot pie under a perfect biscuit crust; delicious, though the rabbit was elusive.
3143 W. Logan 773-661-2485billy-sunday.com
