Skimoxie.

Tattered Cover is just the place you imagine when someone says, “curl up with a good book.” Located past the foot traffic of the 16th Street Mall, this charming bookstore invites you in with its hardwood floors and soft lighting and Victorian-style furniture.
The first floor bustles and the in-house independent café fills the space with espresso and muffin scents. Quieter, the second floor bookshelves are neatly organized in a strange pattern, creating alcoves and dark corners. Fluorescent post-its color the shelves like confetti, staff recommendations leading readers places they’d never imagined.

A bit of a misnomer, Tattered Cover is not really a used bookstore, so prices are even with its corporate competitors. The difference, however, is that no book on sale for five dollars ever looks so cheap. Here, every book is valuable, and if it’s on sale, it’s because it’s your lucky day, not because the book is junk.

This self-proclaimed “Traveler’s Tavern” is literally one room papered in maps and National Geographics, and has the world’s best beer on tap. They’ve got my favorites, including Edelweiss, Delirium Tremens, Three Flloyd’s Gumballhead, and Bosteel’s Tripel Karmeliet, as well as an ever-changing menu of specials. Don’t even think about a generic bottle of Budweiser, Coors, or the like, as you’ll make instant enemies with the seasoned bartenders who are viciously proud of their beer collection. Instead, peruse the menu, ask for a recommendation and samples. Either that, or order the Beer-of-the-Month that will set you back no more than a Miller Lite in Wrigleyville. Settle down at this worn-in pub for the kind of invigorating conversation it lends itself to; make friends at the pool table or juke box; watch the bartenders get snotty to duders. If you go on a weekend, prepare to be crowded. If you go on Tuesday, expect ethnic cuisine and interesting company for the weekly International Night. Other notables include: Café Scientific (lectures and conversations about science), daytime coffee service, and beer school.

Millennium Park may be a Chicago landmark but the pictures don’t look so great with a hundred other tourists in them. Instead, check out the lawn of the Shedd Aquarium, whose grassy hill on the bank of Lake Michigan offers one of the best skyline views. A mere ten minutes from Millennium Park, it has become my favorite Zen place in the city. The sun shines brightly and the breeze from the lake is pleasant and cool. It is the best place to feel the energy of the city without any chaos. The best way to get here: walk through Grant Park, past Buckingham Fountain and south along Lake Shore Drive until the Field Museum and Shedd Aquarium are in front of you.

There’s this yuppie-meets-hipster brunch place in Wicker Park whose line out the door is as much a signature as its white chocolate and caramel covered pretzel pancakes. While imaginative and charming, patrons are rushed in, out of step with the laid-back rhythm of a Saturday morning. Far more enjoyable is Caoba, a Mexican restaurant whose wait staff is eager to please, whose chips and salsa are constantly replenished, and whose tasty food arrives quickly and lasts all day.

This is easily my favorite 5 a.m. bar because while inside, I forget it’s 5 a.m. A middle-aged country-western band rocks the stage ‘til sunrise, playing the best Elvis Presley and Johnny Cash standards, while the rowdy crowd do-see-dos with friends and strangers alike. Here, you will never run short of conversation or dance partners. Carol’s is budget-friendly with a group, as pitchers of Miller products are reasonably priced. There’s a $5 cover charge, but it’s well worth the extra hours of dancing and socializing.

Herein lies the sound of Chicago. Thumping bass, electric riffs, and occasional sax solo – they’re all there, as are the spirited band members, call-and-responsing all night long. It’s Chicago Blues at its finest, just as Muddy Waters and Bo Didley originally intended. Inside, it’s packed, the crowd diverse, some out of their seats stomping and swaying to the music. With two rooms and two stages, the band alternates between both, so you have plenty of time to chat before the music lures you to the dance floor for good. The change-ups between musical acts keep the energy high and it’s likely the music will outlast your stay. Kingston Mines isn’t especially famous for mixed drinks or draughts on tap, nor is it especially cheap. If you go, bring a student ID for a discounted cover and be sure to ask your server for drink specials. Don’t pass up a night at one of Chicago’s most established and enjoyable live music venues.

The Jane Addams Hull-House museum is one of the best ways to learn about Chicago. A free museum located on the UIC campus, this old house presents all sorts of artifacts and paintings to learn about Chicago’s ethnic makeup, tenement culture, child labor laws, women’s suffrage, and fearless females. In this way, getting a piece of Chicago history is cheap, easy, and rewarding. You leave feeling slightly more enlightened than when you entered.

While you’re there, check out the fugly UIC campus and what’s left of Little Italy and Greek Town. None are very impressive, but the chances of finding a charming dive or café are good. Plus, the views of the Sears Tower are especially interesting from this side of town.

Minding its business on a quiet corner, The Charleston welcomes strangers and regulars with warmth and lack of ambition. It is the quintessential neighborhood bar: unchanging, impartial, and strangely charming. The Charleston grows on you, the kind of place that looks better blurred by dim light and cheap beer. Christmas lights criss-cross the ceiling, mismatched tables and chairs populate the cavernous space, circling a tiny stage open for impromptu performances. Half a stuffed goat perches from a corner window, surrounded by boxes of crayons and leaflets. Newspaper clippings and random awards haphazardly decorate the walls.

The ambience is dusty, but cozy, and the longer I stay, the more it feels like grandma’s attic, full of secrets and underrated treasures. Slowly the regulars trickle in. The bar tender deliberates how to make the perfect Chicago-themed mix tape, finally choosing a scratchy version of “Sweet Home Chicago.” Soon the postman enters, drops the mail on the counter and settles at the bar, chitchatting the regulars already there. A young man quietly slips in with a notebook under one arm.

The Charleston is the kind of place all other dive bars aspire to be, oblivious of its own charm and appeal. Once you get over the initial shock of its unkempt appearance, you realize how despite its mess, you love this little bar and can’t wait to go back and make friends. Drawbacks include insignificant drink specials, the bathroom situation, and a small selection of beer on tap.

Caffe de Luca, a one-of-a-kind, charismatic café, is the perfect place to spend an afternoon. Whether you’re inconspicuously writing a novel or debating existentialism with a best friend, Caffe de Luca is one of Chicago’s better independent coffee shops. The inside looks like the quaintest Italian street – cracked walls, champagne advertisements, shutters for faux windows with laundry strung in between. It’s as underrated as a sleepy Tuscan town, warm and friendly, and far too cozy to be pretentious.

The menu offers paninis, pizzas, cheesecake, espressos and more. While the food is satisfying, it can be pricey, so unless you’re starving, settle down with a mocha or espresso and check out less-expensive neighborhood options later. Caffe de Luca is best on a weekday afternoon without the crowds, or weekday nights when mimosas and margaritas are half-off.

Layer upon layer of thinly sliced prosciutto, soft bocconcini, strong basil, sweet pesto mayo, and fresh French bread comprise the most delectable sandwich in the world. Made behind the unassuming counter at Lucia’s Deli, the Yale Special is creamy, salty, punchy, and delicious to the very last bite. It is just as a perfect sandwich should be: inexpensive, memorable, and keeps you coming back for more.

The Yale Special is one of many reasons that justify a visit to Lucia’s, Wicker Park’s most charming deli. Named after the owner’s Italian wife, this neighborhood eatery is cozy, affordable, friendly, and memorable. The deli is stocked with the freshest meats and cheeses, complete with pasta specials and salads. Italian frescoes adorn most of the wall space and statues of Italian goddesses greet customers at the doorways. Carts and coolers are stocked full of Italy’s best sauces, sparkling water, and desserts.

It is best to patron Lucia’s for lunch, as dinner can be pricey and the wait long. If you are going to dinner, bring your own wine and enjoy the candlelight as long as you can.

The Violet Hour serves the best cocktails in Chicago. It doesn’t matter which one you order: it will be sophisticated, with deep, flavorful layers that deliver surprise after surprise, lingering long after you’ve emptied it. Here is the place you try those mixed drinks you’ve always been too afraid to try at other bars. For when you order a Manhattan or a sidecar or a dirty martini from a sports bar or that dive around the corner, chances are, it will taste like rubbing alcohol. At the Violet Hour, however, these drinks taste just as they were meant to taste, their flavors deliberate and complex. My favorite is the Dark and Stormy, a spicy rum concoction that transforms from dandelion gold to scarlet red when stirred.

Say what you will about its cost and popularity; the Violet Hour will make you the strongest, most delicious drink of your life and will deliver it in a sexy, mysterious, intimate atmosphere. Decorated with chandeliers, velvet drapes, a fireplace, and high back chairs, this hideaway is hard to find but worth the effort to look. I’ve been here for dates, with friends, or to celebrate, and every time it delivered a memorable, delightful experience.

As the Violet Hour has no sign, look for a single gold light above a door on what looks like an abandoned building. Arrive early, expect a tolerable wait, and savor it as long as you can.

This is the quintessential neighborhood wine shop. From the creaky wooden floors to the knowledgeable and hip staff to the sign out front declaring, “corporate wine still sucks,” buying your wine here makes you feel good.

The Cellar Rat celebrates the best of wine culture while leaving pretension and scorn behind. They’ll happily explain the simplest of concepts to uninformed winos and they’ll work hard to sell even their cheapest wine. Without a doubt, these guys know their stuff and enjoy sharing their knowledge with customers.

Although a bit small, the Cellar Rat has a decent variety of wine, most of it reasonably priced around $15, and two tables of wine around $10. Also along one wall are microbrews perfect for the beer connoisseur, such as Three Floyds’ Gumball Head. Peruse the shelves closely and you’ll be pleasantly surprised by what’s hiding at this little gem.

The Cellar Rat will answer most of your wine needs, whether you’re buying for a local BYOB or for a dinner party. And don’t forget to sign up for the mailing list, as you’ll get invites to wine tastings and classes, including many free events.

Sultan Market is just what every ethnic deli should be: fast, filling, healthy and cheap. Located just a short block from the buzz of Wicker Park’s six corners, the Sultan Market is refreshingly un-yuppied. The guys behind the counter serve up your falafel and hummus and shewarma in record time, seldom messing up an order, with just the right spice and mixture of toppings.

The variety of food is pleasing and the taste is satisfying. This is a great place to bring your friends if you’re about to get sloshed or if you’re watching a game at home. Dining in is rather unmemorable, although the décor is colorful and the restaurant clean. Sultan Market is not recommended for milestone dates or as a place to meet anyone’s parents.

Step into the Zakopane restaurant and you’re at the crossroads of a Midwestern supper club and an out-of-date Eastern European diner. Paneled in wood, tables topped with glass and tiny white vases, the place is dotted with regulars, most of them eating alone. They all stare when an unfamiliar face walks in, so be sure to bring friends – the uncomfortable feeling that you’re trespassing on another’s turf disappears in greater company.

Arrive with an appetite and order like a king. Everything is so cheap that you could literally order for an entire party and still have cash left. Traditional Polish and eastern European fare comprises the extensive menu, chuck full of pirogies, lamb chops, latkes, crepes, roast beef, burgers, and so much more. The food is likely battered and fried in artery-clogging butter, so stay away if you want to eat lite and healthy, or if you are high-maintenance. This is comfort food for a cloudy day, to fill up, feel satisfied, and better prepare to battle the cold.

Do go here if you want to eat well, pay little, and experience an undiscovered, underrated Midwest-meets-Poland eatery. By the end of it, you’ll be so full you can’t imagine eating again – and have plenty of leftovers to boot.

As soon as I walk in to the Nikhar Beauty Salon, a friendly woman in a colorful sari ushers me to an empty chair, sans reservation, for the best brow thread in Chicago. I lay back as the woman begins. She runs the thread back and forth, quickly and methodically, and when she’s done my brows look prefect, as if I’d gone to a five-star salon downtown, instead of this little gem that charged me pennies in comparison.

Nikhar offers other luxurious pampering at a fraction of what other salons in Chicago cost. Brows are $5, lip thread $3, bikini wax $30, facial $25, and many more. Nikhar in itself is unremarkable with its grey walls, faded posters, soft Indian pop music, and a neon sign in the window. But when it comes to price and service, overlooking the uninspiring decor is well worth it.

Situated around a quiet corner just off Damen, Danny's is a bar in a house, barely recognizable but for the Schlitz sign and thumping base. Inside, its unpolished wood floors creak with the weight of the dancing crowd, tables strewn about, candles lighting the place here and there. Reminiscent of the best house parties in college, Danny’s drinks are cheap, its air thick, its energy contagious, and its music fantastic.

Danny’s gets to the point. From the no-BS bouncer to its minimal decoration, Danny’s seems to say, “I am a bar. You can dance. You can talk. You can do whatever you want. And then some.” At the same time, Danny’s has the uncanny ability to keep away the duders, sorostitutes, and wannabes. It is the most wonderful filter for those of us who absolutely love Danny’s. You either love it or you hate it, and if you’re not sure, don’t bother, there’s a line.

In a world suffocated by insecurities, Danny’s is a refreshing escape. It seems like everyone these days is in the middle of an identity crisis – insecure, unsure, afraid to make a move, and too complacent to chase what really matters. Danny’s knows what it is. It encourages those who know who they are and what they want.

When my restlessness and nostalgia for all things foreign are particularly strong, I celebrate one great appeal of a cosmopolitan city: its vibrant, ethnic neighborhoods where, if I get off at the right El stop, I can be uncomfortably immersed into a busy crowd. One of my favorite places to do this is on Devon Avenue, where I often hear languages I don’t understand, see no one I recognize, and Chicago’s skyscrapers are seemingly thousands of miles away.

Just four or five congested blocks comprise what my friends and I refer to as India Town, on Devon Avenue, at the northwestern edge of Chicago.

At the salons in "India Town," the women speak unfamiliar, beautiful languages and wear colorful saris. At the restaurants, the buffets are plentiful and easy on the wallet. The grocery stores are exotic and are void of sophisticated marketing schemes.

In "India Town" it is crowded and colorful and for a few hours I feel as if I've stepped off Chicago's streets and into some other strange place. It's enough to keep me grounded in Chicago.