Order that Martini in the afternoon, and it’ll be you and a handful of grizzled regulars minding their own business in the dim light. At night, the crowd sharpens, and you’ll be drinking alongside serious jazz-heads who will shush you for talking during the sets. Imbibe on a Sunday, and poets will be your companions. The Green Mill is the birthplace of the poetry slam, still held each Sunday evening, which explains why much of the bathroom graffiti is written in verse.
As for sitting where Capone sat, you really can do that, too. His booth is the one at the end of the bar, on the north side—the only seat in the house that has a view of both doors. Chicago has given the world many great creations: brownies, the zipper, skyscrapers, deep-dish pizza. Yet people forget about the jibarito. Local restaurant owner Juan “Pete” Figueroa invented the sandwich in the mid-1990s. His big idea? Take two flattened, crisp-fried plantains and use them as “bread” for a Puerto Rican steak, cheese, and garlic-mayo sandwich. The concept spread fast, and soon chicken jibaritos, shrimp jibaritos, curry-mayo jibaritos, and more riffs on the original emerged from neighborhood kitchens.
