Review: Ed Debevic’s looks to delight a new generation of diners — including Chicago’s toughest critic, my 8-year-old daughter

When it comes to Ed Debevic’s, does anyone even register the food, amid all the hoopla?

As I detail the experience to my 8-year-old daughter, she, like anyone would, zeros in on the draw of the storied diner at once.

“There’s a restaurant where the waiters are mean to you?” She thinks it over, then queries: “If they are mean to me, can I dump a milkshake on their head?”

Parents walk fine lines all the time, and Chicago’s iconic retro diner offers up a great moral quandary. “They are snarky,” I say. “ You can’t be mean to them. And no milkshake dumping.”

At first, she is incredulous. The world thus far has been filled with pleases and thank yous, sitting still at dinner and not interrupting others when they talk. But I see the notion take hold, of a secret world where none of that matters. A restaurant without rules. What a glorious thing.

Ed Debevic’s, Chicago’s iconic retro diner, is back six years after closing its doors in what feels like another world (or at least another era).

It first opened in 1984 at 640 N. Wells St., founded by restaurant behemoth Lettuce Entertain You before Bravo Restaurants picked it up in 1991. While more Ed Debevic’s restaurants opened — and closed — around the country, the original River North location kept kicking.

It became a quintessential childhood memory, not just for countless Chicago-area kids, but crowds from all over. I grew up in southern Indiana, but my fifth-grade class trip to Chicago introduced me to Ed Debevic’s right alongside fellow cultural icons like the Field Museum and the Art Institute. I just assumed it was part of the official itinerary of Windy City greatness.

When Ed’s closed in 2015 after 31 years, the response from the public was understandably strong. The owners promised to return, but it didn’t take long for bulldozers to level the building, making way for a massive 22-story apartment building. Bits of what made the place great hit the auction block , and it hurt a little more deeply than usual to see it go.

And suddenly, as the pandemic exhausts us and the world seems stale, Ed Debevic’s has returned to delight a new generation of earnest young diners, with a gleaming new room just around the corner from Michigan Avenue in Streeterville.

Though it lacks the grizzled, lived-in feeling of the original, the new room nails the retro diner vibe, with all the cushy booths and neon signs you could want. You’ll also find many of the restaurant’s famous slogans plastered about, including “eat and get out.” Give it a few years of kids’ birthday parties and school field trips, and it’ll have the appropriately worn-in atmosphere.

The servers are back in their best throwback characters from the ’50s and ’60s. There’s the greaser with slicked-back hair, and the nerd with suspenders and tape on his glasses. The server with pick cat-eye glasses slides past the hippie in tie-dye.

Waiting tables is already a demanding job, yet here they also playfully sass around with the customers, while trying to avoid crossing into actual offense. They have to meet a high bar to hack it here, says Judy Planz, director of operations.

“We can teach people to wait tables, but you have to be able to play the game,” she says. The Ed’s of yore was a breeding ground for acting talent, after all, a place where future stars of Second City and the big screen waited tables while they waited for their big break — former employees include David Schwimmer and Mark Ruffalo.

My daughter was entranced by the spectacle from the moment we walked in. When I ordered water, our server, who went by the name Queenie, let out a long, “Boooring.” When my father-in-law also ordered water, she declared him, “Even more boring!”

A few minutes later, Queenie returned with soda jerk paper hats for each of us, flinging them across the table with a flick of her wrist. Scrawled on the side of mine in pen was “boring,” while my father-in-law’s hat read “most boring.” My daughter laughed, and then looked on with deep embarrassment as we put them on.

I’ll confess, this is half the fun of going as a parent. Let the dad jokes fly, and feel the balance of the universe play out.

Of course, a restaurant can’t run on sarcasm alone. Eventually everyone needs to eat, and while never disappointing, the food has always been the least interesting part of Ed’s. Adequate is the name of the game, as was the case with the food during my first visit, with fellow Tribune food critic Louisa Chu.

The cheeseburger ($15.95) features two smashed patties, but they lack the aggressive sear of the city’s best versions. You can sub in Impossible Burger patties, which I liked better than the beef. Either way, the burger is served on a supremely soft burger bun.

The jumbo 11-inch hot dog in the My Kinda Dog ($13.95) certainly looks impressive, requiring two regular-sized buns for support, but it lacks the forceful beefiness of a great Chicago-style hot dog. The chili ($6.95) is meaty, if bland. Eddie’s BBQ Pulled Pork ($16.95) is certainly tender and juicy, but very sweet.

For better or for worse, the last thing Ed’s needs is to please the food snobs like me. Kids are king at Ed’s, so I’ll leave the rating to my daughter this time. When I returned with her for my second visit, she devoured the plain hot dog ($8.95) without hesitation. Then she downed the “World’s Smallest Sundae” ($3.95), a thimble-sized delight of ice cream, whipped cream and hot fudge.

Right around dessert, a thumping beat blared from the speakers, and all the servers dropped what they were doing. They jumped up on a platform in between the booths and started dancing, as everyone in the room looked on. My daughter couldn’t stop smiling.

Before we even got up to leave, she was already plotting her return. But next time she wants to go with her best friends. She thinks it’ll be more fun. Parents, as Queenie so gleefully pointed out, are boring.

That sounds right to Judy Planz. “The busier and the crazier, the better,” Planz says. “That’s when I do my best.”

Ed Debevic’s

159 E. Ohio St.

312-374-8499

eddebevics.com

Rating: Three stars from a junior critic, who says she’d “go out of her way” for a visit.

Open: Monday and Wednesday, 8 a.m. to 5 p.m.; Thursday and Sunday, 8 a.m. to 8 p.m.; Friday and Saturday, 11 a.m. to 9 p.m.; Closed Tuesdays.

Prices: Appetizers $10.95; main dishes $11.95 to $17.95

Noise: Loud and lively

Accessibility: Wheelchair accessible, restrooms on main level

nkindelsperger@chicagotribune.com

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