Five years ago, I wouldn’t have been caught dead in Le Passage. Let me rephrase that: Five years ago, Le Passage wouldn’t have been caught dead letting in somebody like me.
But bars change, and Le Passage—which in its heyday used to be a magnet for visiting celebrities, not to mention the couture-clad Chicagoans hoping to spot them—is now under new ownership. They seem like my kind of guys, because the first thing they did was get rid of the VIP room and replace it with a new branch of the club, complete with a separate entrance and its own name: The Drawing Room.
The Drawing Room touts itself as a "culinary cocktail lounge," and (all PR-speak aside) that's exactly what it is. It's not a restaurant by any means, but the chocolate-toned room does have chef Shawn McClain (winner of the 2006 James Beard Award for Best Chef, Midwest) overseeing its menu. McClain's idea for the place seems to be to serve classics that aren't classic at all—fish and chips, for example, are actually cod beignets with nary a "chip" to speak of, and his "burger" is a small slice of short rib that's far too delicate to be picked up in a bun. In keeping with the culinary cocktail theme the drinks are given just as much attention (and, in some cases, are just as expensive) as some of the food: Order one of the signatures and a "master bartender" will roll a cart to your table and assemble it tableside. (Note: Neurotic folks like me, who may find this a bit awkward, can request that they be assembled at the bar).
And so even though I have no business hanging out in this neighborhood (the building is on a block that is flanked by Barneys on one side and a Prada store on the other), The Drawing Room has somehow become my new hangout. I keep going because I love the fact that they carry both the No. 6 and the No. 9 version of North Shore Distillery's Gin. I keep going because I love chief mixologist Charles Joly's housemade cordials (be honest—when's the last time you had a proper cordial?). Most of all, I keep going because I love the fact that, at least on weeknights, there are no lines and no velvet ropes.
At least not yet.
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