Back in my second stint in Chicago, before it became overwhelmed by touristas from Indiana, Michigan and the hinterlands of Illinois, Bistro 110 was a refreshing respite from midwestern blanditude. But that was then. Before half the restaurant was taken over by a candy shop. Now it'
s my third stint, and I know now why I'm leaving, forever. This joint being one reason.
So, tragically, mistakenly, when a friend from those olden days, in from out of town, suggested that locale, I said yes. As soon as I entered the revolving door (revolving door????) I should of said ""no"". It stank of old fish.
Fast forward: the worst. oldest mussels I've ever, ever had anywhere in the world. Their once impressive baked garlic was nothing short of bitter. They actually told us we had to leave because they had to prepare for a party (we'd been there less than an hour). Good news: we continued our conversation at the Ritz Carlton bar (highly recommended); bad news: those poor fools who inadvertently evicted us had to eat their bad food, tolerate their bad service.