I went to The J. Parker, a rooftop bar, at the Hotel Lincoln in Old Town Chicago. I really want to love this place, but I really can’t.
Last weekend, was my little sister’s birthday. She wanted to go to a rooftop bar in downtown Chicago to celebrate. As the loving person I am, who is also always up for fun, food, and cool pictures, I said, “Absolutely! Whatever you want.” So four of us headed to The J. Parker around 1:15 on a Friday afternoon for a fun girls day. I am completely aware this will be a busy time, but that is no excuse. I was a waitress and bartender for years while my freelancing worked on becoming lucrative. I know the business, and I know how hard it is.
When you enter the lobby of the hotel, there is a guy standing behind a podium to the right. He checks ID’s to make sure everyone is 21 and legal before you hop on the elevator to head to the rooftop. There’s a hostess at another podium, who will tell you to take a seat anywhere. First and foremost, the view is to die for. There’s a covered patio, an uncovered patio, a covered patio bar, and a fully enclosed bar. We sat at the bar first to wait for a table outside to open up.
I’m not a drinker, but their mocktails were great and reasonably priced at $5. My friend’s said their drinks – for normal people – were yummy. I wouldn’t call them cheap, but they are what you would expect from an upscale Chicago bar. When we claimed a table with a view, our waitress came up, took our order, and we never saw her again. I had to track her down to get the bill for our food. If I was a lesser person, it would have been very easy to leave without paying. Not even kidding, we didn’t see her for over an hour. She never checked to see how the food was or if we wanted more drinks. We would have spent quite a bit more money on drinks, but decided nah because, frankly, we weren’t being served.
The food was sub par. I ordered a fried chicken sandwich with fries and cheese curds. The flavors were good, but the chicken was only on half of the bun. There was a really thick, gross layer of chicken skin and fat covering the whole piece. It looked disgusting, and made the sandwich pretty much inedible. Not pleasant. I did like their fries and chees curds, but it’s hard to fuck up french fries and fried cheese. My friends had identical experiences with their food. The prices are reasonable for the city, but I do not suggest eating there unless you hate yourself.
They are absolutely banking on the fantastic view and good drinks. However, the service is the worst I have ever had. It was busy, but not busy enough to warrant our AWOL waitress. I suggest it for the Instagram pictures and a fun place to drink with friends, but do not eat there or have a waitress. Just go to the bar.
Instagram: @jparkerchicago
1816 N Clark Street
Chicago, IL 60614
(312) 254-4747
