February in Chicago is generally one of the tougher times of the years – no less brutal this year as the weather has been downright awful. Trying to turn the situation around we decided to try one of the newest kids on the block – Gibson’s Italia

7 (er 6) of us enjoyed the night due to a much expected last minute cancellation from DC who at this point probably should start watching youtube videos on how to chug an entire bottle of luxardo because that’s what he’s probably built up to at this point.

Nevertheless 6 of Chicago’s finest ( The Brothers Ray, Scottie Martin and Hans and Crenshaw who decided to dress up like Stepbrothers for some reason) attacked the scene and the Mr. Martin sponsored drinks at Gibson’s Italia. Much was made of the Pappy’s on the barlist – but alas we all let Mr. Martin off easy. His shot of Luxardo was taken like a man. They call the gordie howe hat trick a goal an assist and a fight – I think the Scottie Martin version would be picking up the bar tab, doing a shot of luxardo and picking up at least one random dude at the bar. Alas tonight he did not convert as the dudes were surprisingly not biting.

As for outfits Rick was in full Patriots Bandwagon mode, replacing his Alabama houndstooth Fedora with the Bellichick cut sweater. We’re all looking forward to tournament time when he breaks out his Blue Devil blazer.

On to dinner – the setting is really well done and we had a booth in the back with a good view. Unfortunately it was a booth for 4 and the 5 of us crammed in could not survive the manspreading going on. This would be my only knock on the space.

Apps were a dozen oysters that were solid, meatballs (which caused us to learn Brad can fit two of which in his mouth – not that night – but in practice) and rice balls that were filled with cheese.

On to the steaks – where Brad and I split the Chicago chop – which was great despite having sat in the serving plate for what seemed like a long time as it lacked its sizzle.

Waitress was great, rolled with all of our jokes and even allowed us to learn that Crenshaw fantasizes about having a fist shoved up his ass. Weird things you learn. They comped the cost of the steak back to us and gave us an extra dessert after the Birthday Boy – Scottie Martin – flubbed his lines by going for the Italian Cookie tower. Last time we let the Birthday Boy pick.

BRay walked and I’m starting to feel like how the Cubs and Sox fans felt during the past 80 years – I won a few in the beginning but have not won since we expanded beyond 6 guys.

Went back to the bar afterwards and played my favorite game of Spot the Pro. Verdict was inconclusive as to whether there are more in the new or the original.

Overall: 8.5

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