Sometimes even George Orwell had to take a break from writing about injustice, oppression, and totalitarianism and turn his attention to his immediate personal happiness and comfort. In his 1946 essay “The Moon Under Water,” he describes in rhapsodic detail his favorite London pub, a quiet, old-fashioned sort of place where the barmaids call you “dear” (more high-class than “ducky”) and where you can get a creamy draft stout in a china mug along with a good, inexpensive lunch, which you can enjoy, depending on the season, in a comfortable chair by the fire or under a tree in the back garden with your family. The kicker is, of course, that this paragon of pub perfection doesn’t exist, except in his imagination.
The evening I spent at Kibbitznest was not quite that enriching, though I did participate in a rousing debate of Cubs versus Sox. However, I did enjoy browsing the shelves of used books, most of which have been donated and are available for sale at low prices. (A friend found a copy of A Transatlantic Love Affair: Letters to Nelson Algren by Simone de Beauvoir for $4, a tremendous bargain.) It was also pleasant to sit at the bar and browse the menu, which includes some unexpected and welcome entries like cherry cider and miniature Vienna hot dogs. It was pleasant to sit in a comfortable chair and kibbitz while nibbling from a dish of spicy Marcona almonds and sipping a cup of very good herbal tea, prepared with hot milk instead of water. (Upon hearing I had a cold, the bartender added a small cup of honey.)
Kibbitznest Books, Brews & Blarney 2212 N. Clybourn, 773-360-7591, kibbitznest.com
