Israel Temmie

Chicago’s dining culture has long balanced polish with grit: white-tablecloth steakhouses alongside decades-old taverns, tasting menus a few blocks from shot-and-beer dives. Lately, a familiar Midwestern institution has reasserted itself in a distinctly urban way: the supper club. Not as kitsch revival, but as a format built around long dinners, strong drinks and the expectation that a night out should unfold gradually rather than end with the check. Traditional Midwestern supper clubs, particularly those in Wisconsin and northern Illinois, centered on relish trays, seafood cocktails, prime rib and brandy old fashioneds served in dim rooms where no one rushed you out the door. These meals almost always began with the relish tray, a rotating carousel of crisp radishes, celery, olives, and pickled beets, acting as a crunchy, vinegary prelude to the heavier courses to come. In Chicago, that template has evolved. Some restaurants lean into the classic ritual of carved meats and live jazz. Others blend dinner with entertainment, whiskey programs or late-night dance floors. Together, they form a version of the supper club that feels less nostalgic and more embedded in the city’s current nightlife economy. Tortoise Supper Club, in River North, is among the clearest expressions of the classic model adapted for downtown Chicago. Inside, the air is thick with the scent of roasted beef and the low hum of a jazz trio. I noticed that the room is anchored by a 'Red Room' library, where the