Why the bear gets all the credit associated with the versatile bounty of honey, Tamalehawk will never know. You should be squeezing a plastic molded bee, since they are the ones carefully cultivating the honey. Based on this misappropriation, the bottle may as well be a human form, somebody with a sheepish look holding some granola and waiting for the lazy suzan to spin his way.
It is with a heavy heart that Tamalehawk administers an unflattering review of the Chicago Ale House. The standard fare could potentially be overlooked if not for the inescapably unfortunate decor. Weird carpet and dull upholstery make the front room look like a banquet hall, giving the place an overall "family bar" vibe that is as distracting as it is muddled. Is Tamalehawk being petty? He probably is - this type of problem shouldn't be considered an impasse. He will readily assess the mashed potatoes as exceptional, and his grilled chicken sandwich with pears, pesto, arugula and melted brie was also pretty good. He also noticed that the back room of the giant bar seemed distinctly better - hardwood floors and an immense TV that would be great for when you want to watch something huge. Also there are 60 beers on tap, including Old Style, and that is never bad and always good. So, the final recommendation: If you are in the neighborhood and want to watch a popular local sporting event and feel like a beer and a plate of mashed potatoes, actually, this place is ideal.
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