It's important to be happy in whatever role you play, so hopefully Clint Howard's settled into "ugly bald guy whose brother constantly throws him a bone". For about the only joint happy with its role as a non-gastropub in NoLibs, get to The Blind Pig.
Prohibition slang for a speakeasy, The Blind Pig's hitting 2nd St with a split interior -- the left side's anchored by a hefty wooden bar, while the right hosts dining on four tops up front and a communal table in back, plus a rescued piano -- serving drinks and eats described as "a lot of aluminum and comfort food", but not aluminum comfort food, which can only be served by Iron Man's mom, Mrs. Man. The menu's not totally set yet, but edibles get started with poutine employing Reading-sourced curds; an oyster sammie with panko-crusted bivalves, smoked bacon, and creole mustard; and turkey, mashed potatoes, and stuffing that's quite healthily packed together, fried, and covered in gravy to create Thanksgiving Balls, or what Dad had when he asked Grandma to stop using canned cranberry sauce. Drinks-wise, there's a Prohibition nod in chilled Mason jars holding white wine, and an all-but-one-under-$5 beer list, including cans running from craft (Old Chub) to classic (Schlitz), and eight taps pouring the likes of Brekle's Brown Ale and Mama's Little Yella Pils -- so...mad-expired Nuprin?
BP's got their heavily experienced bartenders mixing pretty much anything you can name while they invent and tweak their custom cocktail list -- which promises to be potent enough that even Clint Howard's date will likely throw him a bone.
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