The Hometavern

Went here with a few friends around 12 one night. Drinks were reasonably priced. The other customers were very friendly and were much older than the group I came with. The bartender was also very nice!
Seems like an oldies bar– it even smelled like my grandparents basement. I can get past that.
My friend asked a mysterious man smoking a cigarette in the back of the bar where the bathroom was, and instead of helping he called him a f*****t. Not sure if he worked there but seemed like a regular. That being said, the place did not smell too good that night, mixed with some plumbing issues.
Why is the back of the bar unlit and filled with piles and piles of junk? It’s like a semi-​converted living room.
I would go here by myself after an awful day of work, but I would never ever bring a date or group of friends in. Just not that vibe. But hey, you can’t beat cheap beer.

My wife and I love to go on our own random bar crawls on Sundays on streets that we normally don’t go out on. So we decided to go out on Lincoln Ave. We came to this bar and had to check it out.
THIS is a dive bar. It goes beyond the definition of a dive bar. We walked in and there were about 3 of the regulars there sitting at the bar. They were extremely friendly and welcoming to us. They were very easy to talk to. The dog named Potato was there chilling on his dog beg. There is a side room that looks like its just full of storage with a few couches in there. The owner was taking a nap on one of them but eventually woke up and came out. We tried their Hillbilly Margarita which is just tequila and Mt. Dew. They also bought us a shot of their «Kill A Bitch» which is basically just Jäger.
We stayed there for about an hour and had a good time with everyone. They invited us back anytime we wanted, and since its not too far from our place, I think we will definitely go back as we felt welcomed and we love those kind of places.

Interesting (and hidden) little townie bar on Lincoln Avenue.
Go here when you’re ready for a different experience than your average night at State and you want cheap drinks. Or if you just find yourself wandering in the area.
Be prepared for some unique characters and some wandering dogs (likely belonging to the owners?). You’re sure to find a seat at a high-​top, which sometimes in the Chicago bar scene, is refreshing in itself.

A non-​work night Tuesday pre-​4^th of July inspired a night of friendship and fun on Lincoln Ave. The goal was to beat the scalding Summer heat and wrap our lips around as many cold ones as possible. After leaving Delilah’s aka heavy metal concert in your head and heading North across the divide known as Diversey, we were presented with two equally tempting options: Patsy’s, or the first floor of a house (potentially) which, even though was dimly lit and had no name outside, we designated as a bar because of the Old Style sign outside. We rolled the dice and embraced the welcoming glow of the neon lights and walked inside.
When we walked in, it was… well, like nothing I have ever seen. This place reminded me of so many places I had never actually seen in real life but envisioned in some imaginary world of what I expect things to be. Does that make sense? It was like Grandpa’s half-​finished basement complete with an apparently storage section in the back, a stocked bar that includes everything from (you guessed it) Old Style on tap to all your standard liquors, and wood-​paneled walls covered in the tchotchke and vintage sign store vomit similar to your hometown Applebee’s but much more depressing. The two patrons, which were a local drinking beer from a Hofbrauhaus-​sized and his friendly dog, were watching TV with the bartender, and were more than welcoming of our about-​to-​be-​rowdy group of 4. We put a couple drinks back, I somehow got talked into a shot of Malort, laid down our cash, and we quickly scooted out of there. To be honest, I am a lover of dive bars, but this was just. extreme. There’s dive bars and there are *dive bars*. The Hometavern is where dive bars go to… drown.
Side note: At no point did I ever see anything with the bar’s name on it, nor find out what the name of the bar actually was. Thank God for Unilocal check-​ins!
Minus the cash only part, it’s not a bad spot overall. The bartender was friendly, they allow dogs (!!), and, unlike Delilah’s, we could have a conversation and really catch up on friendship… and boozing.

Preface: I like seedy dive-​bars, but this was a bit much…
Home Tavern may be a fun stop if you’re looking for a novel experience, but don’t take it seriously for a night-​out. First off, there’s no sign indicating the bar’s name, just an Old Style sign (very Chicago). Moreover, when I walked in, at 1:30 a.m. on a Saturday, there were just 2 «customers» in the venue, along with an actively growling, confrontative «guard» dog.
My friend felt compelled to ask if they were open, to which one of said «customers» responded, «I’m not sure” — and looked to the bartender — who sounded more like Slingblade than any other human being upon whom I’ve ever come across. Dead-​on. Hmm.
The ladies’ bathroom appears clean, but reaks of stale urine, or perhaps a plumbing issue. The lighting in the bar is harsh, white light (not so flattering, to say the least). There are stuffed animals and defaced dollar bills attached the drop ceiling. The whole back of the bar is unlit, and appears to be full of piles of junk.
The drinks are reasonably strong.
I’m not sure what else to say about this place, other than it makes Club Foot feel like The Violet Hour, and it’s run by Germans.

This place is as odd as it is old but I love it. Always a dog or two, bills and opened envelopes stacked on the register and behind the counter. Stuffed animals hanging from the roof and a complete locals feel. That said, I’ve been welcomed each time I’ve been there and have enjoyed it, if only for a quick beer.

Place has intrigued me for at least 10 years – never walked in but wanted to because of their Cubs sign and Old Style Sign out front… Very similar to another Joint about 3 blocks down called «The Rose». Couldn’t figure much out but it’s a Mother/​Son operation just like the Rose, if you were really drunk you couldn’t tell the difference between the two of em!!! People are nice/it’s kinda like you are drinking in your grandparents basement… gtfjd

I had avoided this bar for ages because of the sign for the special shot in the window — «Kill the Bitch shots — $ 4». Call me a wacky feminist, but I tend to avoid bars where people could potentially be shouting this phrase regularly.
A coworker was having their birthday party here, so I decided to swing by at about 9pm on a Sunday. He, and the rest of the party, were all but gone (they started at 3!) I knew the two lingering customers, so I decided to grab a quick drink. They had Black Dog, which I had to order out of 90s nostalgia (potato beer!)
Katie, the bartender, cleared up for me that «Kill the Bitch» just referred to Killepitsch. Of which I immediately downed an ice-​cold shot; it’s like the tasty version of Jäger. And they have Kutscher Alt on draft (gimme gimme crack beer without the trip to Huttenbar, plz!)
The décor is a little bizarre. There’s stuffed animals hanging from the ceiling, Potato’s dog food in an open bag in front of the jukebox, a large fishtank in the unlit 2^nd room, and a kitchen in the back. Not to mention the cans of vienna sausages sitting on the table next to me. But definitely charming, in that sort of Twin Peaks-​meets-​Hoarders-​meets– Wisconsin basement way.

Just went here for the first time Saturday as part of our St. Patrick’s day celebrations and fell in love. It is a dive bar with heart. Great German beers and bitters and the owner/​bartender and regulars were very nice even though we were a group of green wearing drunkards (believe me not so local dives do not want the sort, Delilahs did not see welcoming, not that I blame them). Don’t let the exterior scare you off, definitely give this place a try if you’re in the neighborhood!

I love this place and its owners, it’s one of my favorite dive bars of all time anywhere. You’ll find Katie (strong German accent) watching old black-​and white movies at the end of the bar with Potato (black lab) keeping watch of the bar. Sometimes Thai (friend of the family) will come with huge bags of leftover thai food and share with the entire bar. The jukebox is a riot and the beer is always cold. Taps are always clean as they love to brag.
Go for a visit and leave a good tip.

If Rose’s Lounge is the Jan Brady of dive bars in Lincoln Park, then the Hometavern would be Marcia Marcia Marcia.
The Home has an above average beer selection (BBK, etc.) with taps that don’t run foamy and are actually cold. Barenjager shots. A pool table sits in the unlit back room with empty beer cases on top. I was in here one night last summer with a couple of friends and it had to have been at least 85 degrees inside. If they have air conditioning it’s probably a window unit at best and it may have been on the fritz.
A sweet, chunky old black lab named Potato will not greet you at the door. Instead she gives you that «what are you people doing in my living room?» look as she slowly shuffles from under the table to her bed in the corner near the jukebox.
Some of the patrons may give you that same look, but as long as you’re not an obnoxious popped collar jerkoff you’ll be OK.

This place feels like my grandma’s wood paneled basement… but instead of Fresca, it’s soaked in whiskey.
A true gem.

I popped in here after a drunken evening. True dive bar. The time I went, random food was sitting on the tables, and was invited by the people there to eat it. Feels awesomingly out of place.

With all the worship of dive bars on this site, I’m surprised this one doesn’t get mentioned more. I have a soft spot for it as my band sometimes would rehearse across the street, and it was a convenient watering hole for when we didn’t feel like hoofing it to Delilah’s. It’s a dive in the most literal sense of the term… not a ‘hip’ dive, just an old-​time watering hole. Random crap on the wall, miller and/​or bud neon signs, a small selection of taps, a pool table in the back, a big dog sleeping in his bed by the cigarette machine, and a jukebox that’s usually off with a puzzling array of stuff on it.
Kate behind the bar is great and there’s usually some old movie on the TV. However, the last time i was there some regular was spouting a bunch of anti-​semitic BS. Had he not been an old bastard he would have gotten a good stomping. I know that’s not the fault of the business, but I just can’t bring myself to go in there anymore.