Frank and Mary's Tavern in Avondale is precisely the place Twardowski is after. A lunch spot and bar from the era when Chicago's shoulders were a bit broader, when the city was still America's hog butcher, a maker of things. When factory workers clogged bar stools in three shifts, devouring roast beef and mashed potatoes, fried fish, smoked pork butt, schnitzel with red cabbage and meatloaf. The sort of place documented by Upton Sinclair and beloved by Mike Royko. Where the owner and executive chef just went by "Mary" or "Frank" and sit at the bar next to you, feeding you hot goulash because, for Chrissakes, it's freezing outside.