Rachel Wiseman

When I meet Arel Brown, he is in his hairnet and apron, sporting the neon green T-shirt that is the uniform of Eternity Juice Bar & Deli. He is in the middle of preparing food, and shows me the pieces of raw kale stuck to his hand when I reach out to shake it. “My hands are a bit dirty right now,” he apologizes.

Brown is the owner and manager of Greater Grand Crossing’s Soul Vegetarian East restaurant and its juice bar and deli extension. He takes off his apron and leads me to the main dining area, where, even at 4pm, most of the tables are full. An older man, lean and well-dressed in a tightly tailored black suit and tie, greets Brown and walks with us into the next room, an unoccupied, more formal dining area. He sits down and introduces himself. “My name is Prince Asiel Ben Israel,” he says, each of his names a carefully enunciated burst of sound punctuated by a short pause.

I am surprised and delighted to hear this, because I know who Prince Asiel Ben Israel is, though I have been unable to find out much about him. Ben Israel and his wife, Yohanna Brown, started Soul Vegetarian East in 1982; the birth of their son Arel and the addition of the Eternity Juice Bar and Deli followed soon after.

Ben Israel is a charismatic figure, and he speaks in an even, amiable tone—except, as when he introduced himself, when he wants to make sure he is heard clearly. Given the recent controversy to hit Soul Vegetarian, this instinct to guard against potential misunderstandings makes sense: a November interview in the A.V. Club Chicago quoted Yohanna Brown as saying, “Women don’t wear men’s clothing, and men don’t wear women’s. If you look at present culture, you can see how breaking these guidelines has led to things like homosexuality.”

Brown and Ben Israel are both Hebrew Israelites, and this identity is the basis of their vegan offerings. Based on an interpretation of Old Testament dietary prescriptions, they support a vegan diet as the source of both spiritual and physical health and believe that being mindful of one’s diet is the first step to living a healthy lifestyle. While this belief is in and of itself unproblematic for most, some have voiced concern that the source of these beliefs is also the source of Brown’s homophobic remarks.

Samantha Jones

A brown banner behind a window is the only sign Five Loaves needs. Inside, calming yellow and green walls are the perfect backdrop to a collection of splashy African art that hangs about the room. Owned by a local family, the space contains only nine small tables, but the menu’s depth suggested a kitchen staff prepared for a feast.

Greeted by a young and, as one Yelp describer accurately declared, “cute” hostess, we were directed to choose any table we liked. Most patrons seemed to order to-go, and a table with coffee, cake, and a few chairs offered a place to sit while waiting.

As the hostess poured water, she also listed the specials: for breakfast, one pork chop with two eggs any way with a side of French toast, rice or grits, and biscuits for $9.50; or the lunch option, their special catfish nuggets and chicken wings with a side of collard greens, yams, and your choice of garlic bread or biscuits for $10.50.

Needless to say, the amount of food for the price is a hard thing to find within the city limits. On the regular breakfast menu were egg sandwiches, omelets, pancakes, and waffles. But you could tell just by looking at the menu that the chef was determined to add in some elegance with the options of salmon croquettes and a specialty dill sauce.

The regular lunch menu, meanwhile, contained classics, such as chicken salad sandwiches, and southern favorites like fried catfish and chicken wings. Even though 5 Loaves boasts of their southern cooking, they often have healthier options such as turkey bacon or ground turkey to encourage more responsible diets.

Our waitress was welcoming and quickly helped us pick out our lunch. My friend decided on the daily special of catfish and chicken wings with the many sides. As so many options tend to overwhelm me, I went with our waitress’s favorite, the fried tilapia with collard greens, yams, and a homemade biscuit.

Glancing around the small eatery, it looks as if the atmosphere tries to balance the feel of a café with the personable attitude of a family restaurant. Many of the customers sit alone, enjoying a quiet lunch and bantering just enough with our same waitress to reveal their status as regulars. Soft, coffee shop–type music plays in the background while the smell of the fryer clings to the air. It is a homey feeling, with a fringe of sophistication.

My friend was served first, her giant mound of crispy, fried catfish and wings almost indiscernible from each other. My portion followed, thankfully contained on one plate. The waitress came to our table two more times to bring my friend the rest of her sides.

Encouraged by our waitress to eat the homemade dill sauce with the tilapia, I cautiously loaded up my first bite—tarter sauce is not typically a condiment of my choosing. I found this sauce, however, to be light and creamy, almost as if it were a mix of sour cream and crème fraiche with a touch of dill mixed in. The result was the ideal cooling agent to go atop my fish. I would gladly take her advice again.

Not to be outdone, my friend gave me a piece of her catfish to compare. Fried in the same light batter, the catfish was perfectly cooked. Having each ordered the same sides, we dug into our yams. Sweetened with brown sugar and some spices, the surprise of the yam came from their addition of orange juice, giving the mash a much-needed dose of acid. The greens were delicious, but my favorite was the biscuit. Baked just right, it was warm and flaky and offered the perfect vehicle for enjoying the yams.

Filled to the brim, as we walked out of 5 Loaves Eatery, we could sense that we had stumbled upon the southern belle of Greater Grand Crossing. Modest in size and decoration, generous in portions, and just adventurous enough in flavors, it was hard not to fall in love.

5 Loaves Eatery, 405 E. 75th St. Tuesday-Friday, 8am-4pm; Sunday, 12pm-6pm. (773)891-2889

Lauren Hunter Thomas

Johnny Drummer wants to know if Lady Cadillac is in the building. A woman at the back of the joint in white go-go boots, ostensibly not Lady Cadillac, calls out to the septuagenarian bluesman, letting him know that he is  “S.O.L. tonight,” and proceeds to raise her highball. She’s either flagging down a hostess or saluting the piano, drums, guitar, and harmonica-playing house band who has just elected to play right through the break scheduled for the middle of their three-hour set.

It may not be the Caddy Johnny Drummer is looking for, but tonight at Lee’s Unleaded Blues there is at least one sleek-finned machine to admire: a powder-blue 1950s Eldorado idles outside the elbow of concrete upon which the club sits, an isosceles impingement on the 74th block of South Chicago Avenue.

While praise for Lee’s Unleaded Blues Club is not exactly in short supply, as press clippings in the entryway attest, the music showcased here over the past few decades has proven that the acclaim is well-deserved.

The juke spot began as Queen Bee’s Lounge, and changed hands at the end of the 1970s when Lee himself bought the property from Bee’s daughter.  At that time, some of Alligator Records’ biggest names—Son Seals, Snapper Mitchum—were regulars on the lounge’s stage.

Forty years on, Lee’s still has nothing but “quality acts” to offer, as bouncer Ernest describes the musicians that owner Yvonne Davis brings to the joint. Tonight, she sits at the end of the red-trimmed, floodlit bar, holding court in red bifocals, a beret, and skirt suit,. At Lee’s, a five-dollar cover charge is a relatively recent institution—unlike the musicians themselves, who have played on the South Side for most of their lives. Drummer, born Thessex Johns in Alligator, Mississippi, even worked for the Board of Education and then the CPD, after cutting his first record in 1962.

The breath of chattering patrons warmed up the door’s single glass pane, and a few improvisational minutes proceeded to do the same for the Starliters, whose set kicked off with a little bit of banter punctuated by kick drum and cymbals. Decked out in three-piece suits, the musicians frequently leave the stage to weave amongst the crowd, a motley assortment of both high-spirited locals and curious young folk. The overwhelming impression of the guests at Lee’s, whether they’re mixing drinks, plucking on stage, perched on a barstool or bouncing the door, is of a crowd in their Saturday-night best.

The tunes are just as polished. In contrast to the more bare-bones style of the Memphis school, Chicago blues—or at least what’s on tap at Lee’s—errs more on the side of soul and even jazz. Willie Dixon’s blues standard “Wang Dang Doodle” is perhaps the best example of this sound, and it aptly opened the Starliters’ set. First performed by Howlin’ Wolf, and not too far from Lee’s, the tune speaks to Dixon’s personal transition from down-home rhythm and blues to a more urban up-tempo, big-beat style.

The Starliters drew on a wide swath of the 20th-century catalog: the early R&B number “Fever,” famously performed by Peggy Lee in 1958, followed later in the night. The audience didn’t hesitate to chime in.

The challenge in keeping this institution hopping three nights a week involves juggling more than a few variables. There’s the difficulty inherent in hiring musicians of both talent and repute, on top of  the challenge of keeping cover fees, drink prices, and operating costs down. What’s more, the South Side population hasn’t really been able to anchor the joint, as Ernest attests: “as far as having a core group of 40 or 50 regulars, or locals…” He trails off and shrugs. “Someday, we hope.”

For now, Davis and her staff enjoy the patronage of a diverse and lively crowd. Three men speaking Japanese sit at a table littered with Ray’s potato chip bags and empty bottles of Zinfandel, and in the front row, no fewer than four guests celebrate their birthdays with cake on the house and flutes of a sparkling grape. In the nearly impossible case that Drummer’s own compositions, odes to Chicago’s juked-up sound, hadn’t already charmed the ever-loving ears off of the guests at Lee’s, a fifteen-minute plus rendition of “Happy Birthday,” complete with saxophone serenades for the birthday boys and girls, surely did the trick.

Lee’s Unleaded Blues. 7401 S. Chicago Ave. (773)349-4377. leesunleadedblues.com

Claire Hungerford and Kelsey Gee

[Show as slideshow]

eta Creative Arts Foundation sits on a quiet strip of South Chicago Avenue, in the heart of the South Side. Though dilapidated residences and empty lots surround the simple beige building, its location seems ideal for a major arts district, with easy access to the Metra Electric Line and the Chicago Skyway. In the next few years, the physical space of eta’s stage will become instrumental to carrying out their founding mission—the production of theater by and for the city’s African American population.

While the group’s mission has not waivered since it was founded in 1971, eta’s leadership is currently going through a major transition. The foundation’s long-time president and co-founder, Abena Joan Brown, stepped down this past March, on the 40th anniversary of the opening of the theater. Brown, who was known for her nightly curtain call appearances and charismatic appeals for donations, has been a major force in African American theater and has made important contributions to the development of arts on the South Side. In 1991, she was inducted into the Women’s Hall of Fame of the City of Chicago, and under her leadership, the theater has won more than 150 awards.

She passed the reins to Philip Thomas, a charming graduate of Morehouse College and the University of Chicago who has extensive experience in fiscal management. Thomas previously served as the group’s development director, before working for the charitable foundation Chicago Community Trust. According to Nancy McKeever, eta’s board president, “This is the first time new leadership has occurred.” With Thomas’ appointment, other firsts are on the way.

With Thomas guiding the way, eta is branching out in new directions through outreach programs and new partnerships, and is adopting a more accessible aesthetic. This new approach, aimed at attracting a more varied audience, was exemplified by the foundation’s recent production of “Flow.” The play, which closed a week ago after a successful run, connects traditional folktales with hip-hop music. During the production, an on-stage DJ orchestrates the retelling of the stories, attempting to put a modern spin on the classic tales. This is an attempt to cater to the tastes of younger theatergoers, through multimedia, while continuing to appeal to eta’s older stand-by patrons. eta is aiming to broaden their current audience base now so that they will continue to grow in the future. But to accommodate this growth, eta will need to expand.

eta was incorporated as a non-profit in April of 1971. Over the subsequent four decades, the foundation has produced over 180 mainstage productions by African American playwrights. In order to achieve the group’s mission of promoting “the African American aesthetic in the city of Chicago,” the theater has served as a launching pad for original pieces—98 percent of the theater’s productions have been world premieres.

While it has opened the door for local black playwrights, the non-profit’s 40-year history hasn’t been without trials. eta spent many years “vagabonding,” moving their performances from one temporary location to another before settling down in their current space at 7448 S. Chicago. Currently, in addition to the theater hall, the building has a library, community room, and small art gallery dedicated to selling and displaying local art. Their 200-seat theater is intimate and versatile, allowing for a range of performances and kinds of engagement with the audience. But with an ever-growing roster of programs and a house filled with spectators and voices—regulars frequently chime in during well-loved performances—eta has begun to burst at the seams.

When the foundation first moved into its current space, all productions were held in the snug gallery space. But even since the mainstage theater was completed, the foundation’s various programs have had to fight for rehearsal and performance space. While new shows are practicing in the theater, other groups must rehearse alongside them.  “Every corner is used,” McKeever laughs.

According to McKeever, the foundation’s master plan committee “planned twenty years ahead” for this upcoming expansion. The goal was to maintain eta’s status as a “major cultural resource institution,” and coined the project “Grand Crossing/South Shore: Renaissance 2001” back when it was in preliminary stages.

Recently, physical plans have begun to materialize, and they are ambitious: eta’s facilities are slated to triple in size at a cost of $26 million. McKeever says that eta has acquired most of the money needed for the expansion through fundraising and donations, and that eta now owns the parcels of land they want to build upon. This land, which has been cleared for construction, is across the street from eta’s current building between 75th and 76th. The expansion project will create a fully rendered, all-purpose arts space, complete with a large community room for events, new gallery space, offices, a rehearsal studio, and a much larger auditorium with a thrust stage. The design space will be much more efficient as well, with an on-site construction and costume workshop.

The wheels are turning for the project. “The architectural plans and project management are done,” says McKeever. eta is currently in the middle of remodeling their current space, which must be done before expanding across the street.

However, there is no projected date for the completion of the expansion, and the economic downturn has hit eta in the gut, stalling the final stages of their money drive. Thomas is aware of the tough times facing the theater and arts on the South Side in general. “The community has been hit hard,” he says, “but eta has held its ground and will go up from here. We have to be careful and strategic in planning.” He jokingly described eta’s predicament with what he calls “a UChicago term”—“less income-elastic.” In plain English, eta must be tight-fisted with its cash.

Rather than proceed with the $26 million construction, Thomas’s immediate plan is to continue expanding eta’s programming. The foundation is, first and foremost, a training center—every year, more than 350 students are enrolled in the theater’s professional training program. eta aims to expand this training to off-site locations, thus easing the burden on the foundation’s strained facilities and

elaborating on existing ways to pull in new talent.

One such expansion will rest on a partnership with a University of Chicago Medical Center doctor named Doriane Miller. Miller is a clinical psychologist interested in urban youth violence, particularly on the South Side. She has arranged for the UCMC’s Center for Community Health and Vitality to partner with eta to produce the play “It Shoulda Been Me,” which Miller wrote to bring light to community violence and its effect on teens. According to Miller, “The play is about beginning the journey of healing and resilience and how teachers and family members are a part of that journey.” eta plans to bring this play to CPS students through its Showfolk Daytime Performance Series. After the show, the students will be offered study guides to help them relate the themes of the play to their lives. The hope is that by working with the play, students will be given an additional therapeutic outlet for handling violence in schools and the community.

As another part of their expansion, eta will lay the groundwork for entirely new theater programs. A grant from the Chicago Community Trust will allow the foundation to transfer current performances to Westinghouse College Prep in order to build a new program at the school. Westinghouse has recently built a state-of-the-art theater but has no actual program to speak of. By taking on projects like these, eta’s leadership hopes to generate as much excitement within the community as there is within the foundation itself. The move to a larger space is the natural next step in the process.

eta’s ultimate goal, however, is far more ambitious. Thomas dreams of a cultural district springing up around eta’s current location, complete with new restaurants and businesses geared toward the arts and entertainment. He firmly believes that eta’s stretch of South Chicago Avenue can become a South Side arts corridor, mirroring the Blues District in Bronzeville that was recently brought to life by the mayor’s office. The scope of the envisioned arts corridor makes eta’s physical expansion campaign seem relatively humble, but Thomas and McKeever both insist that if­­ eta is going to remain a world-class cultural institution, then the creation of an arts corridor is a necessity.

“eta is a microcosm of the African-American socioeconomic status,” Thomas says. In his view, an increase in eta’s prosperity will lead to an increase in the general welfare of the local community.

Whether in a massive auditorium or its own small gallery space, eta provides an essential platform for the development of new African American artists in Chicago. As a venue for “home-grown artists,” says Thomas, the foundation “gives voice to a lot of talent that would otherwise go unnoticed.”

Equally important, eta has given many South Side students and residents their first theater experience. “There is a magic that you can feel at eta,” McKeever willfully states. “eta instills a hope in the young people, and at all walks of life.”

Maggie Sivit

In 1853, two trains riding along rival lines collided at what is now the intersection of 75th and South Chicago Avenue. Seeing opportunity in the mangled steel’s violent geometry, Chicago entrepreneur Paul Cornell made a wise investment. To prevent future crashes, the government mandated all trains to stop at the crossing, bringing in hundreds of visitors daily. Cornell’s investment turned the land surrounding the intersection into a commercial and housing center for travelers and residents alike. Envisioning the transit hub as a suburb, developers built homes for a working-class population that equated private property with prosperity. Following a familiar trajectory, the population transitioned midway through the twentieth century from Irish, German, and English to African-American.

Since that time, nearly half the area’s population has slowly bled away. The long stretches of residential streets are in decay, leaving buildings abandoned and lots empty. Nonetheless, a critical mass has gathered along the area’s commercial thoroughfares. Throughout the day, a steady stream of foot traffic makes its way along 71st, 75th and 79th Streets. Locally owned restaurants offer innovative approaches to common American fare, and enclaves of immigrants from Africa and the Caribbean have imported their tropical flavors to the Midwest. Keeping the lights on past midnight, a growing lounge scene on 75th mixes the scampering of jazz with the city’s late-night hum.

Best Gourmet Burger
Burger Bar
Imploring customers to “Skip breakfast, eat burgers” Burger Bar allows such a habit to be pursued responsibly. In addition to their lean beef, the restaurant offers salmon, turkey, and veggie patties, using each as a platform for imaginative seasonings. The jerk burger features exactly what you’d expect—a zesty glaze of jerk sauce—while the “savory salmon” comes with remoulade tarter sauce, raw onions, and veggies. The fries complete the burger experience, as they’re crisp and won’t leave your fingers with a greasy sheen. Try the sweet potato fries if you want a bit more flavor, but order a side of the fried okra if you know what’s good for you. While gourmet burger chains are now ubiquitous on the North Side, their corporate interiors have nothing on the front-porch atmosphere of Burger Bar. The staff are kind and talkative, offering you advice on your order from behind the bullet-proof glass, while small details and written specials taped to the wall, beer bottles turned into salt shakers add some personal charm. 622 E. 71th St. Monday-Saturday, 11am-8pm. (773)846.2874 (Tyler Leeds)

Best Senegalese 
Yassa African Restaurant
“Are you hungry?” asks Madieye Gueye, the owner of Yassa African Restaurant, as he sits down at the table with us. “When you come to Yassa you have to be hungry.” He’s right—the portions barely fit on the plate here at the city’s only Senegalese restaurant. Their trademark, yassa, is a mixture of the “chef’s secret spices,” diced onion, and piquant mustard, a traditional sauce from Senegal so central to the restaurant’s menu that they borrowed its name. Featuring chicken, lamb, fish, or shrimp, the dish comes smothered in the special spice blend and served up with a smattering of sautéed onions and carrots. Cut the spice with a side of djolof rice or atieke, a cassava-based cous cous that is otherwise a bit bland. And make sure to order one of their homemade drinks. Bissap, a juice made from dried hibiscus flowers, is refreshing and recalls the taste of pomegranate. The honeydew drink tastes remarkably natural in spite of its slime-green color, which incidentally matches the sponge-painted walls. 716 E. 79th St. Monday-Thursday, 11am-10pm; Friday-Saturday, 11am-11pm; Sunday, 11am-10pm. (773)488-5599. yassaafricanrestaurant.com (Maria Nelson and Rachel Wiseman)

Best Sequined Bras
N’Dulge Boutique
The fashion police at N’Dulge Boutique are always ready to serve and protect the public from a drab wardrobe. Sharita, a shopaholic and Chicago police officer in her free time, opened the store in May to showcase and sell the eye-catching clothes she loves. “She’s flashy,” says Sharita’s laconic boyfriend, wearing a Bluetooth while manning the cash register. Slinky rayon-spandex dresses, faux fur vests, and burgundy jumpsuits hang on racks at the front of the store. Cases display sparkling metallic bangles and heavy costume jewelry pieces, while bejeweled brassieres twinkle on their hangers—red, turquoise, and orange. The five-inch snakeskin heels exhibited on the wall look deadly—to walk in them you’d have to break a couple laws of physics, and maybe even a bone. The store design is almost as sumptuous as the apparel: plush, jewel-tone pillows line a bench and glass chandeliers hang over a bar in the back that is used for parties. A nearly complete set of letters hammered into a wall read, “INDULGE YOUR ELF”. At N’Dulge, there’s more than enough extravagance to go around: indulge your elf and yourself. 421 E. 75th S. Monday-Saturday, 11am-7pm. (855)638-5432 (Rachel Wiseman)

Best International Cuisine
Wings Around the World
“Girl, we don’t do plain wings,” the employee said to a customer who had inquired, tutting from behind the sliding glass window. Wings Around the World offers juicy and tender non-breaded chicken wings, cooked-to-order in batches of five to a thousand. The main draw, however, is the selection of over forty gourmet flavors gathered from around the world. Not only reserved for the chicken, the house-made rubs and sauces may be added to shrimp, catfish, perch, cod, or the most popular alternative, tilapia. Flavors range from the smoky sweet honey jerk BBQ to the savory parmesan garlic, to the sweat-inducing spicy “Kamikaze.” The sides are all American, but not to be passed up—the “cheese wedge” alternative to lightly seasoned fries is really fried mac and cheese—and all meals come with a cold pop. Expect a wait when you go—but relax, it took Jules Verne 80 days to make it as far as the Wings employees do in a mere 20 minutes. 510 E. 75th St. Monday-Tuesday, 2pm-12am; Wednesday, 12pm-2am; Thursday-Friday, 12pm-4:30am; Saturday, 12pm-5am; Sunday, 12pm-7pm. (773)483-9120. flavorstoinfinity.com (Kelsey Gee)

Best Rib Tip
Uncle John’s BBQ
The whole production at Uncle John’s BBQ is visible through the chicken wire that covers the glass storefront. A spit rotates, men stand attentive at the woodchip grill, placing on new racks of ribs, rotating cuts of chicken, and taking pieces off once slow-roasted to juicy perfection. While the decision between rib tips, fried chicken, hot links, turkey, or brisket may seem vexing, you can’t go wrong with any of these carnivorous delights. All are tender, faintly smoky, and drenched with mild, spicy, or ‘mixed’ sauce. The meat comes presented on a bed of fries, with two slices of white bread and a cup of slaw on the side—a grand feast considering it comes in a paper bag.  339 E. 69th St. Monday-Thursday, 1pm-10pm; Friday-Saturday, 1pm-12am. (773)892-1233 (Isaac Dalke)

by Matt Wan

The late lunch crowd at the Quench restaurant on 79th between Martin Luther King Drive and Cottage Grove Avenue silently munched away on turkey burgers and fries last Friday afternoon, their seriousness belying the vibrant burnt orange and yellow interior of the building. Outside, equally somber faces trudged by buildings with “for lease” signs displayed in their windows as classic soul tunes floated out of Quench and dispersed above the sidewalk. With a rush of cold air that accompanied the opening of the front door the diners’ eyes shifted toward the entrance as a tall, slender man sauntered in from the street and began coolly thanking all of his customers for their patronage. From his demeanor and the clients’ smiles alone, it became quite clear that this man, Quentin Love, owned the place in more ways than one.

A product of the Greater Grand Crossing neighborhood where his restaurant Quench now sits, Quentin Love grew up in what is now considered a food desert—an area that lacks enough grocery stores to provide nutritious food to the population—and is brimming with unhealthy fast food joints instead. Despite this impediment, Love developed a passion for cooking at an early age that was rivaled only by his desire to become a barber. But faced with the prospect of graduating from high school and without the means to enact either of these dreams, Love and a close friend decided to enlist in the army. Just days after receiving his diploma, Love flew to California to start his training, and soon after found himself on the ground in Iraq as part of Operation Desert Storm. His time overseas was cut short, however, when a friendly vehicle ran over his foot as he walked across camp to visit his high-school buddy.

Back stateside, Love became a successful barber and founded a community-minded non-profit called the Love Foundation. Through his work with this organization, Love became painfully aware of the complications of high unemployment in his community. Considering the continual scarcity of jobs and healthy meals for people in Grand Crossing, Love realized that a career change could help him fulfill his other dream while tackling community issues as well. After selling off his DVD collection one by one, Love had scraped together enough funds to open his first Quench restaurant in 2001. The no-pork, no-beef eatery was a big hit as a business model as well as a community institution; Love was providing jobs and wholesome alternatives to fast food by way of what he calls “the transitional diet to becoming a vegetarian.”

Bolstered by his first entrepreneurial success, Love opened a stir-fry restaurant called Black Wok, a Mexican restaurant called Fajitas, and a no-pork barbecue take-out joint called Honey Q’d, all of which flopped shortly after opening. Love attributes the failures to neighborhood and timing issues, but he also takes it personally. “It always sounds good to try something from scratch. Feels good too,” Love remembers. “When you just try it, there isn’t anybody to stop you.”

Tumultuous times followed, and Love found himself homeless. But after leasing out the spaces previously occupied by his failed ventures, Love was back in the game. He began opening several new Quench locations, all of which were resounding successes. Love has since created the I Love Food Group, a coalition of South Side African American restaurateurs who share the goal of empowering impoverished individuals with food choices and sharing economic prosperity with the community. “You should control the economics of your community,” Love asserts. “In our culture, there’s a gap; we don’t have that connection.”

After years of strife and success, the entrepreneur, musician, interior designer, artist, and barber still has more in the works. A new Quench location just opened, and Love plans to expand his burgeoning empire into the grocery business. “Everyday in business is something new. That’s innovation. You can do anything you put your mind to,” Love says. And he’s convinced that when put to good use, that kind of innovation can have a broader social impact. “In the mindset of serving the community, each person you help is a success. Thousands of people later, we’re working towards our goal.”

For a complete list of I Love Food Group Restaurants, visit http://www.ilovefoodgroup.com

by Adam Shuboy

With the words “Saturday Night at the Auction” proudly displayed on a massive banner across its otherwise unassuming façade, the building off the corner of 75th and Cottage Grove emanated stale light onto the sidewalk as expectant patrons filed into its doors. Last Saturday night the building was brimming with anxious bidders, each perusing the goods to be sold with discriminating taste. The goods—well, they were decidedly unlike those offered by most auctions. What did they sell? Everything you could ever imagine, but most you probably wouldn’t: piles of power tools, heaps of costumes, TVs, from Auvios to Zeniths. If you’re looking for something, but nothing in particular, this is the place for you.

The auction ritual began as soon as the colorfully attired auctioneer took his seat on a platform at the front of the store, causing the bidders to sit up in the pew-like benches that filled the building. A set of three tattered superhero movie posters was the first item on the block, but even after the silver-tongued auctioneer had cut the price down to three dollars no one would bite. Frustrated by the lack of enthusiasm for the exquisite piece of memorabilia he was offering, the auctioneer did just as any seasoned salesman would do: he threw in a bonus. The added incentive of a mirror with an engraved tiger was enough to incite the night’s first bidding war, driving the price up to five bucks. While the proud new owner of the night’s first prize forked over his cash, a set of eight screwdrivers taped to a piece of cardboard made its way to the block. Though they were clearly a steal at six dollars, the screwdrivers failed to stir up any interest and were shelved after a few of the auctioneer’s unanswered calls. Just when the crowd’s interest looked to be waning, an assistant’s cry of, “Let’s sell a bible while we waitin’ on that number!” reinvigorated the bidders. The holy book changed hands for four dollars.

After the patrons had had their fill of the smorgasbord of items (not to mention the free buffet), I spoke with the coordinator of the event in an attempt to understand how this curious auction came to be. His answer was as intriguing as it was simple: “With junk, you get hooked.”

On a whim, real estate agent Charles McGary went to an auction and purchased an item that he then resold to his dentist for a substantial profit. After purchasing a sofa at another auction and flipping it for more than twice the price he had paid, he realized that reselling antiques and collectibles could be more profitable than selling property. Since that time, McGary has realized his vision, opening many retail stores that resell goods to end buyers. But after establishing his new business venture, he found himself inundated with lower-end goods that would not likely sell well in his more moderately-priced stores. It then occurred to McGary that the system of buying and reselling items that had been so good to him could also work on a smaller scale for individuals in his community.

By auctioning off such odds and ends at low prices to Craigslist- and eBay-savvy customers, the Saturday night auction has become a source of profit for all parties involved. The auction house clears out otherwise unsellable items, and the bidders get a crack at making some money. And it’s pretty fun, too. This is no small-scale junk sale; the first night of the auction drew close to 200 patrons, each one a legitimate bidder (ensured by the three-dollar cover charge) interested in making a few bucks or picking up some trinket they didn’t expect to find.

Whether you’re a hipster looking for some really, really ironic new gear, or just a bargain hunter looking for a diamond in the rough, you won’t know what the auction holds until you’ve seen it for yourself.

McGary’s auction runs every Saturday night at 7pm at 7439 S. Cottage Grove.

Literally the crossing of two major railroad lines—the Illinois Central Railroad and the Lake Shore & Michigan Railroad—this historic community area has seen better days. In the second half of the nineteenth century and well into the twentieth, the rails ruled the city (and the nation) and Grand Crossing was king of the South Side. The trains brought a labor force of European immigrants from the North and blacks from the South; industry and trade flourished, and the neighborhood became a junction not just of steam and steel, but of cultures, as well.

The rest of the story is familiar—white flight ran its course and the railroad lost its scepter to new methods of transport. Grand Crossing tumbled off its throne. Today, though some trains still run, the neighborhood is in disrepair; streets haven’t been repaved in decades, overgrown lots dot the landscape, and most storefronts and homes are in need of—at the very least—a fresh coat of paint. But underneath Grand Crossing’s worn exterior, culture still runs deep.

best serious soul food
Army & Lou’s
Established in 1945, Army & Lou’s bills itself as one of the oldest black-owned restaurants in the Midwest. Maybe, but the thing that really sticks in your mind about this place is its unbelievably good food. As might be expected, the fried chicken is great, but if you’re going to order one thing, go for one of their phenomenal side dishes. The velvety, melt-in-your-mouth macaroni and cheese is nothing short of heavenly, and while the collard greens look a little soggy, they’re perfectly seasoned with bacon and are quite great. Anything you eat here should also be accompanied by a corn muffin (or two); even restaurants south of the Mason-Dixon line don’t make ’em this fluffy and sweet. Food from Army & Lou’s can be enjoyed at their quaint Grand Crossing location, or you can call ahead and order take-out. One word of advice, though—this food is not for calorie counters. 422 E. 75th Street. Open daily, 9am-10pm. (773)483-3100 (Clare Fentress)

best venue for plays you’ve never heard of
eta Creative Arts Foundation
Although it’s easily the South Side’s most established theater venue, eta Creative Arts Foundation is more than just a stage. Since 1971, eta has studied and celebrated the African-American experience in the performing arts by offering not only an impressive program of shows each year (four mainstage productions, along with a teen-billed series that runs on Saturday afternoons), but also adult theater classes, teaching workshops for arts educators, children’s summer camps, partnerships with neighborhood schools, and showcase opportunities for up-and-coming writers. eta is dedicated to casting black actors and actresses and producing works almost exclusively by underappreciated black playwrights. And although eta is located on a rather forlorn strip of South Chicago Avenue, the inside of the building is warm and vibrant; an art gallery and a large office area flank the theater. It’s unlikely you’d be able to walk in and not see something worth stopping for.  7558 S. South Chicago Ave. (773)752-3955. etacreativearts.org (Clare Fentress)

best broken electronics
The Cheap Store
There’s a layer of dust covering everything. Dirt is smudged on the floor, on the shelves, on the items on the shelves. A significant amount of said items are broken. No, this isn’t your grandma’s basement—it’s the Cheap Store. True to its name, this is a store where things are cheap. Located on a busy block of a run-down street lined with shops and cell phone stores (named Commercial Avenue, aptly), the Cheap Store sells everything from strollers missing a wheel (or two) to neat (if stained) furniture that will probably count as vintage in a couple years. But don’t let the dingy atmosphere scare you off—there are treasures to be found. On a recent visit, digging through a pile of junk uncovered some old-fashioned trunks ($10 each), and a dubious-looking clothing rack yielded choice finds (nothing more than $5). Some of the suspiciously inexpensive stereo systems probably work, too…but don’t bet on it. (N.b.: the Cheap Store is actually just southeast of Grand Crossing, in the South Chicago community area.) 8936 S. Commercial Ave. (773)734-0001 (Clare Fentress)

(courtesy of Taylor Mallory)

“Why not put food and entertainment all under one bun?” Taylor Mallory asks, reciting the slogan of his new food and music webshow, “Music Burger.” Wearing a smart sport jacket and his signature black baseball cap backwards, Mallory doesn’t look stressed, but the musician and teacher has a lot on his plate.

Having just graduated from Columbia College, he teaches an after-school class in music production at a South Side high school, works at a music production company, entertains at corporate events, is a wedding singer, and produces “Music Burger” episodes each week. The webshow was a “spontaneous creative idea” that came to Mallory as a way to promote Chicago musicians and bring people to his personal website through a food and music web series. Episodes of the show include a performance by a musical guest and Mallory teaching one simple recipe. The guests and the food are always related: Mallory says, “You think of going out to a nice restaurant and you think of a specific kind of music, like classical music, and then for a barbecue maybe you think of soul, or folk music.” He tries to do the same thing with “Music Burger”—in the most recent episode Mallory invited in an action-packed band, ENDISKIZE, and taught viewers how to make a protein shake. The project was originally entitled “I like food and people,” but that name was scrapped. Mallory explains why, leaning back in his chair, looking spaced out, and saying slowly, “I didn’t want to sound like a hippie.”

Three other Columbia College students work with Mallory on “Music Burger,” and the end result of their collaboration is near-professional quality web episodes. Additional help and advice comes from Ivan Dupee of Dupee Productions, whom Mallory describes simply as “a blessing.” The group is hoping the project will lead to distribution on major channels in the future, which would allow them to expand to other cities and provide exposure for even more artists. For now, musicians featured on “Music Burger” have come from the South and West Sides of Chicago, as well as the suburbs.

While “Music Burger” is a lot of work, Mallory says it all comes together in moments like the one in the J Gridges episode, when he was standing in his kitchen and watching the band play and felt “this can really be something.” He loves to see the musicians he features talking up “Music Burger” on their own sites, and is proud to say that the project surprises people he meets. The drive behind his work comes from his conviction that the music industry lacks creativity, and he wants to push forward the “craft” of making music. And there’s another reason. “If it puts a smile on your face, then do it,” Mallory says.

The same belief that people should pursue what they enjoy runs through Mallory’s class in music production at Hirsch Metropolitan High School in Grand Crossing, the neighborhood just south of Woodlawn. He calls his teaching “organic,” responding to his own and students’ interests. Mallory moves on quickly from talking about this job, adding that he works in client relations for Dupee Productions and has various weekend gigs. He chuckles and says, “I know you’re thinking, ‘That’s a lot.’”

But Mallory never misses a beat, even asking for a publicity shot of himself with your reporter to hype this article. “Music Burger” has been picked up by Blip TV, a resource for video bloggers, and with Mallory at the helm more publicity is inevitable.

“The Man Who Saved New Orleans” is the latest play at eta Creative Arts Foundation. Written by Thomas Meloncon, it returns the narrative of New Orleans to the people who were kicked out of the city when Katrina moved in. It tells the story of the Prejeans, an African American family from the Lower 9th Ward who have been relocated to the Houston home of an evangelical cousin. A blind grandfather, a broken mother, a tormented son, and a silent daughter populate the cast list of the family drama that unfolds over two lengthy acts. A host of supporting characters, most notably a snarky, seductive fellow refugee named Eva (played by Ina Houston), add commentary but little complexity to the Prejeans’ struggles.

Each of the characters attempts to deal with the pain instilled by Katrina and its aftermath while grappling with immediate domestic trauma. Heartbreak, addiction, death, redemption—it’s all here. Arthur Prejean (Foster Williams, doing his best Ray Charles impression), the family patriarch, tries to hold everyone together by spouting mystical wisdom handed down from his black Indian ancestors, but his words are not enough. So Vincent Bourdeaux (Reginald Jackson), the inhospitable cousin, imposes his rigid Christian faith on the family, once again to no avail. Eva blames her family’s problems on white people, and the family joins her in finding a scapegoat.

And then things fall apart. Willie Jean (Nicole Black), Arthur’s daughter and caretaker, can no longer bear to see everyone else suffer, much less Johnny Boy (Randle Michael), her wayward teenage son, as he torments himself over the tragedies that unfolded in the wake of the storm. And Hattie (Chloe Johnson), the youngest of the family, resigns herself to silence. At first, each family conflict provokes characters and spectators alike to take sides. As characters scream and storm out, or crumble in pain, the audience is left to decide who is justified in their outbursts.

In the midst of the familiy turmoil, the play finally manages to establish a solid foundation for itself. All of the Prejean’s quarrels have run their course, and the family is finally left in a state of complete dejection. Should they turn to God or against their enemies? As discussions turn into arguments and points of view devolve into dogmas, an overwhelming sense of despair permeates the atmosphere of the play. No one is completely in the right; everyone is searching for the most convenient solution. The open set invites the audience to participate in the dialogue of the Prejeans, and director Artisia Green’s loose staging adds a heightened naturalism to the acting.

Unfortunately, the play wraps up this whirlwind of conflict too neatly. The title is an overt reference to Johnny Boy’s nickname, “New Orleans,” and his grandfather predictably pulls him out of his despondency and returns him to righteousness. Meloncon leaves questions of faith and family hanging, preferring to mop up most of the confusion with easy resolutions.

Still, the play leaves the audience with a lingering intuition that the Prejeans aren’t quite through the storm yet. The hope that the play ironically inspires is that their confusion will return, and that the family will continue to probe the confounding facts and motivations that surround their tragedy. They have yet to return to New Orleans to reclaim their city.
eta Creative Arts Foundation Main Stage Theater. eta Square, 7558 S. South Chicago Avenue. April 22-June 13. Thursday-Saturday, 8 pm, Sunday, 3 pm & 7pm. (773) 752-3955. $30 ($15 for students). etacreativearts.org