Champions **2/5 stars

I just recently read an article in the New York Times about living ironically and how it's not impressive. I had to check myself when I started to write this review. 

I've realized the only reason my friends and I go to Champions is because we think it's hilarious to stroll our skinny white butts into a dive bar on Lake Street that's mostly frequented by semi-retired pimps, drug dealers and thugs to just "see what happens." Cuz you know something is bound to happen. You could get asked to a movie by Darryl, who's in a wheelchair because he was shot six times. Or be told to "watch yo ass, Snowflake" by a diva who doesn't understand why you sang Duran Duran on soul train karaoke night. Or you might be propositioned by someone who wants to pay you $100 to suck on your toes. Yes, Champions is colorful, and we really don't have any business being there. That being said, let's get to the review.

As you can see, the place is pretty much falling apart. And while there is plenty of square footage here, I wouldn't recommend renting the "banquet rooms" for your next big event, unless that event is "my uncle just got out of prison."

This is the walkway between the bar and the "banquet" room. Needs some Mr. Clean.

I was enticed by the $2.50 bloody marys, but it's not like I can't afford them at regular price. They're actually pretty great. I'd compare them to Liquor Lyle's quality. Note to self: review Liquor Lyle's.

 The food is not exciting. Most of it comes from a deep fryer or a greasy griddle. 

 

Here's the french toast. Plain but totally adequate.

 

And the omelette with browns and ham...

 

And if your arteries are still free flowin', get yourself some chili cheese fries and some chicken tenders...

Look over yonder, it's a white castle!

Where's the security in this place???

Okay, despite all my criticisms I have to pay respect the regulars lining the bar; the bartender with her eyebrows drawn in dramatic arches; the bouncer in his inconspicuous t-shirt. Even though my spoiled white ass doesn't understand, this place means something to them. It's friends; it's family; it's refuge from the stress of everyday life. Who am I to judge? And why would I expect anything more than adequate here. Respect, Champions, respect.

Cafe Maude on Loring ***3/5 stars

Maude Armatage believed in civilized leisure, contrary to what I look for in a brunch spot, but I know better, because I've visited her southside sister and she's saucier than she lets on. So Nick and Eddy have left the building. Enter Maude. She's spiced the place up a little with some nice lighting, but nothing drastic...

Still this space is pretty epic, with its towering ceilings, fully wired sound system and seating for groups of 10+ (there's even a loft for special parties.) We hope that Maude can draw more attention than Nick and Eddy. One would assume.

I don't faint at the sight of Maude's brunch menu. The list is short and has some odd twists... nothing too enticing. The recommended bloody mary is made with gin. Don't get me started on snobby mixologists and gin. You can say it's better because it has more flavor than vodka, but sometimes, honey, you don't want to taste the stringent zest of coniferous bush, you just want something that blends nicely away into your tomato juice and starts to make you feel warm and foggy. It's a feeling, not a flavor. Although Maude sounds like a woman who would have crawled into her bathtub with a bottle.

The drink list is good, though. Don't get me wrong. And they'll make you a vodka bloody if you ask nicely. The bellini was bellissimo. There are more, fancier drinks. We just stuck to the basics.

So here's my benedict, and oh it was almost perfect, but the eggs were more hard than easy. That giant salad made me so happy. I think I am Vitamin D deficient lately. I am craving greens like a crazy person.

They douse their potatoes in goat cheese here. Interesting. Kinda chalky in texture, but good in flavor. You can opt out of the cheese bath if the funk isn't your jive. This is the mediterranean omelette...

This is the classic breakfast, but has the most elaborate plating...

And here's some pukey looking biscuits and eggs in a chickpea gravy. The word on this is "no beuno." But the eggs look perfect.

So otherwise people enjoyed their food. Then they bring you your checks in old books. Neat.

I'd say go to Maude for dinner instead of brunch. I've had some of the best dinners at the south location. And come on Thursday nights to hear great DJs spinning vinyl. The cocktails are expensive, but good and strong. Peace out from the bad eggs crew...thanks to Brandon for cutting off half the group.

Hot Plate ***2.5/5 stars

Sooo retro, huh? This southside estab. had been on my list for a while. I thought it was funny that Yelp listed the ambiance as "hipster." I mean, I guess they're not wrong, if kitsch = hipster. 

By kistch, I mean the entire place is laden with knick knacks and paint by number paintings. Which I found fascinating. The lighting is, as you can see, plentiful. Lots of retro lamps hanging from the ceiling. I admit I am in love with the decor. Does that make me a hipster? Fine. But as I have learned from my time on this earth, trying to hard to be different is still trying to hard. And ambiance is something, but it's not everything.

The menu also features some of the artwork that hangs on the walls... It's a pretty standard diner breakfast, which boasted the best pancakes..."not dense, light and fluffy."

 

That's my hipstamatic cappuccino photo. Nice that they have decaf espresso, as many diners stop at full-strength drip coffee.

The pancakes were light and fluffy. Really dang good. BUT not as good as Lowbrow!

I thought maybe it was a bad decision to get mexican breakfast at a traditional diner because this was not that great. Mostly because the egg was way undercooked. I also hate those deep fried potatoes. No sour cream, no avacado and the salsa burned my face off. Some like it that hot. I do not.

Here's the view from the back booth. Must be popular, cuz it was crowded. I'd probably go back and order scrambled eggs, bacon and pancakes. They also have cheap beer and wine and burgers on the menu, but they close at 2pm, so don't come for dinner. Now, I'm off to Ben Franklin in my tight black jeans to buy some paint-by-number and a latch-hook kits.