CJs Central

I was going to take these bitches down for trademark infringement but we decided that I would be CJ’s Lakefront and they would be CJ’s Central because of the following differences:
Lakefront has a surly doorman, Central has a door. Sometimes.
Lakefront offers seasonal outdoor dining. Central offers a bit of the outdoors, year round.
Lakefront offers decent wine selections, Central offers bad ass bourbons.
Lakefront is tiny and intimate, Central is expansive and rambling.
Lakefront is very limited access. Central has its welcome mat out pretty much always.
Lakefront is a non smoking venue, Central is puffer friendly.
Both are run by smart, feisty and awesome chicks. And oh yeah, we have the same lawyer so the suing thing would be an exercise in futility.

i tried to find you tonight
so here’s my personal add to you, cj, who i’ve never seen:
i’m an ex-​patriate from mass who’s lived in logan square for a few and i need a good neighborhood bar, i tried to find you but i failed.
where can i go to drink too much and talk about how the red sox are the best sox, where are you, it says on Unilocal that you’re 2400 n. california, but i found nothing…
i want to smoke in your bar
–justin

OK… I have put off writing this review for a long time… but I am finally caving because it is becoming apparent that reviewing this place is a guaranteed ROTD.
Some of the great things about this place;
— you can still smoke at CJ’s… true, it’s not legal… but they pay off the cops so no one gets busted.
— It is the only bar I have ever been at that let me crash in the back room when I have had too much «celebration».
— The cash register seems to have broke several years ago, I can’t remember the last time I paid for a drink.
— Free random food… last time I was there I was served the most delicious grilled cheese sandwich with avocado and tomato… nummy
Some of the not so great things;
— Have you ever tried getting a cab at Fullerton & California at 4 a. m? If you stand in the middle of the intersection the sonsuvbitches try to run you down…
— The beer selection is a bit limited, you basically get whatever the bartender pulls out of the fridge, which can be downright scary.
— The owners are unrepentant sox fans (both unsavory flavors), try not to rile them up, it is a sad, sad sickness.
All in all this is what I envision heaven to be like as long as it has Budman artwork.

I’m not prone to writing songs. I was one of the few people you could meet in Nashville, TN who you could ask, «What do you do for a living?» and the answer would never be, «I’m a songwriter.» I have however, on occasion, penned a few novelty country songs. One of those few is worth remembering, a slow honky-​tonker that I called «My Favorite Bar’s At Home.» Here are a few lyrics:
I don’t like frat boys in my bar
With their obnoxious and trashy girlfriends
I don’t like my barkeep too flashy
Lookin’ like a guy who’d dance for Prince
And I like my bar to be real smoky
With a haze so thick I cannot see
I don’t wanna see Survivor
On the big screen TV
And that’s why, I, drink at home.
My favorite bar’s at home, so I don’t ever need to roam
I like to keep my whiskey bottle near
My favorite bar’s at home, so I don’t ever need to roam
My fridge is always stocked with cheap beer.
Thanks for indulging me, it’s important.
I realize now after spending the majority of my birthday weekend inside the bar at CJ’s that I actually wrote that song about a place that I’d never been before. And that is what’s important about CJ’s to me, it feels like home. For a kid torn from the full and welcoming bosom of the South, finding a place that makes me feel like I’m drinking in my best friend’s Tiki room is like finding a twenty in an old jacket and knowing you can buy beer after work. It’s like being happy, being on an even kiel, like going home.
A few ground rules though for you lucky few who manage to make it through the door:
1. Love cats, and if you don’t, keep your goddamned mouth shut about it.
2. You’ll never be thirsty. There is a good selection of liquor, including a few top shelf bottles, and a a mountain of beer. But don’t come in here asking for a Sierra Nevada pale ale or you’re likely to get your ass kicked all the way back to Wrigleyville, and the proprietors of this fine establishment will have a smile on their face while they do it. If your favorite beer costs six bucks a bottle, stay out. If a twelve-​pack of your favorite beer costs six bucks, then speak friend and enter.
3. Enjoy and freely engage in sarcasm. The owners of this joint are there every night, and make no bones about it, if you’re drinking in their joint then you at least have the capacity for being a damn fine human being. But they’re going to take their swings at you, because they have to test your mettle. You don’t build a place like this and then just let any douchebag through the door.
4. Be a fan of baseball, good books, and/​or old records. Of course, if you’re not, then you’re probably a terrorist and you wouldn’t be inside anyway.
5. Bring a donation of your favorite beer or liquor. Oh, they’ll keep it there for you, and they’ll serve you even if you crawl in off the street broken and tired. But give back, because it’s the right thing to do.
I’ve been two nights in a row to CJ’s and I’ve been fed both nights. And we’re not talking about the tamale guy here. No sir, we’re talking about fine food prepared by some of the most beautiful and intelligent women you will ever meet in your life. If you go, go hungry, because they will insist that you try everything in the room.
All that being said, I can’t go without mentioning the swass. Something about those old bar stools man, they just set a man’s ass to stewin’.
And the smoke, after hours of puttin’ ‘em away, can start to get to you if you’re a non-​smoker. I’m a former smoker, so it doesn’t bother me, but my girl’s not so used to the night life as me, so after a while she starts to notice.
But CJ’s is far and away the best bar I’ve found here in town. I will go there as many times as the nice folks will let me through the door.

Red Sox Bar + Speakeasy = CJ’s, the bestest joint for drinks, grub, and gab this side of 128.
A friend took me to CJ’s for the first time tonight to watch the Bosox destroy Cleveland and I was (rightfully) excited. I’d heard a lot about the bar and their stocks of plenty, but I was not prepared for the basement bar experience as adequately as I should have been.
CJ’s is everything other reviewers have said… and more. It is a great place to meet new people, watch a game. and drink cheap beer. It would have been a perfect night out if it weren’t for three mistakes I made:
Mistake number one? I didn’t bring my freakin’ inhaler. Stupid me, I forgot that people smoke in bars… its been way too long.
Mistake number two? I didn’t get drunk with the regulars, who happen to be remarkably un-​douchey. I’d say this is the least douchey dive bar I’ve set foot in… ever.
Mistake number three? Age. I just can’t keep up with the kids and their livers of fury.
The reason for my three stars is simply because for this non-​smoker, the fog of nicotine was a little too much too take. They could really stand to pass a hat and use the proceeds to purchase an air purifier. This is not meant to be a criticism — it is just tough being the sole non-​smoker in a crowd of non-​douchey smokers.
PS – in cooler months, no swass. BONUS!
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Update:
I’ve since spent countless hours eating the staggeringly delicous food served by CJ’s matron and sucking down drinks expertly removed from the refrigerator and poured by the bartender. I cannot, for the life of me, imagine any other bar I’d rather spend time at than CJs.

a bar is a bar is a bar, but one that is free is a bar par excellence. and one with such a strict entry policy at the door just takes it to another level. i can’t wait till they hook up the golden tee and the karaōke machine. there are so many things to love, i don’t even know where to start.

In Logan Square, most bars come in one variety — that being of the ‘neighborhood’ variety. That’s not meant in a disparaging sort of way; in fact, I can’t think of one person who doesn’t honestly love a good neighborhood place. You know, those places that have a cadre of locals at the end of the bar who do not hesitate to let you know it’s ‘their bar’, not yours (a fact which is more often than not silently acquiesced). The places that ‘going to the bar’ usually means ‘drinking with the owner’. An establishment that you can tell someone’s heart and soul was poured into by what is on the walls.
Yep, CJ’s is just that place. And, as far as neighborhood joints in the Squa’ are concerned, CJ’s may very well be in the top three. It IS a place that everyone knows your name, because everyone, in fact, does know your name. On my first visit, I was introduced to the refreshing taste and flavor that is the ‘chelada’ (yes, it even helps to battle the occasional ‘swassiness’ of the place). The décor is serious — neon abounds, and there’s a collection of beer cans that would probably make your grandfather weep. The glassware is top shelf and the pours are very nearly always perfect.
The proprietors are fine, stand-​up people who’ll booze you up and then make sure you have one for the road. And, to boot, there are an abundance of ukuleles to be had, and at the mere mention of the fact, one will probably be thrust into your hands. As I understand it, the associated gun club usually holds the same hours as the bar, most likely making it one of the few places in the city that you can have a few drinks and then brush up on your target practice.
Bonus points if you find wisdom in the words of Fred G. Sanford (the G. stands for ‘grab another one and have a seat’).
Finally, and probably most importantly, douchebaggery in any of its myriad forms is both severely frowned upon and completely absent from CJ’s. On that point alone you can make a fairly persuasive argument that CJ’s is a darling of not only the Square, but very likely of the rest of the city.

It’s not often I find myself in Logan Square these days, hell, I’ve given up on the NW side altogether and moved down south… but when I come back and visit the neighbs I always stop into CJ’s Central. Despite baseball being on in the corner and thus providing a glowy, moving distraction I am still able to chat it up with the ruff-​n-​tumble regulars and get a much needed dose of sarcasm. Now that I am in AA they even stock Coca Cola for me!!!
Lets be honest — the décor is what keeps me coming. Where else can you find an interesting assortment of beer signs, beer cans, and beer glasses all in one place? Take note of the lovely nude women on the west wall, what more could you ask for?! Throw in a pellet gun or 3 and you have pretty much the perfect bar. I am super excited for the upcoming Settlers night, I heard it gets sort of heated… (and we aren’t talking about the lack of air-​conditioning, bokay?)

This place is about as hole in the wall as you can get, you have to know someone to get in (although if you look friendly they’ll invite you in off the street), they have a big time speakeasy sort o vibe. They do have a major problem with swass, but after the Bob Inn, this is my fave bar in Logan Square.
Totally shitty beer of the Schlitz, PBR, Old Style variety, but it’s free, so who cares? Contributions in the form of cheap beer/​Jim Beam are always encouraged, but if you show up empty handed, they’ll get you loaded anyway. Plus, they have a HUGE assortment of vintage beer glasses, so you can enjoy your Pabst in style. Good variety of mid to high end booze, although I generally just stick to the Beam, which they thoughtfully keep in the freezer and serve to me in the oddest collection of shot glasses I’ve ever seen — CIA, FBI, El Salvador, Wisconsin hockey teams, etc. It’s like they raided every Salvation Army in the Midwest to stock this joint. No rum in the place, they’re paranoid it will attract Jimmy Buffet fans and so refuse to stock it, but they do keep Chelada around the place.
Décor is of the Old Man Bar school of decorating, old beer neons, ukuleles, giant lego portraits of Edith and Archie Bunker, autographed photos from celebs, etc. They are very nice about letting patrons play the ukes, and the bartender will even teach you how to play. The one star I’m detracting is due to the bar stools (rumored to be a gift from their pals at the Bob Inn), which, while very comfortable, do give you a sweaty ass — the swass factor knocks it down a star.
Patrons are generally sarcastic, Trixie/​Chad/​hipster/​condo monkey hating, self-​loathing, 30 somethings attorneys and/​or unemployed slackers who like to make fun of anyone who walks in the door. Great crowd — be prepared to smack talk in this joint!
TV in the bar has EVERYTHING, including the MLB package. Be forewarned that, while they tolerate Cubs fans, these people only root for the Sox (red or white) and Yankees fans are pretty much guaranteed to be tossed out if they admit to it. The bartender is a transplant from Boston and his old lady is a Chicagoan, so it makes sense in a strange way. This location is an offshoot of CJs East, written up in the Boston Globe as one of the Dropkick Murphy’s 10 favorite bars (
). Generally, old movies and/​or TV Land reruns playing if there isn’t a good ball game on.
Cats in the bar, smoking allowed, free snacks are great — last night I had wasabi peas, dry roasted peanuts and pizza flavored gold fish crackers. Sometimes they have cheese/​crackers, and they’ll always make you a sandwich or something if you are really hungry.
I freaking love this place — finally, a safe haven from the douche bags you encounter at «public» bars.