Eastgate Stories - Vol. #1

Some restaurants have an aura about them that goes beyond the mouthwatering odors of grilled Hungarian sausage and Lobster Alfredo Penne. The Eastgate Café in the Art District of Oak Park is one of them.

Maybe it’s because the Eastgate wasn’t built as a retail restaurant. It was originally the downstairs of a duplex apartment circa 1920. Bought by Olya and Pat Dailey in 2008, it was repurposed as small, European-style bistro where friends could meet to discuss the events of the day and strangers could meet and become friends. Olya’s initial concept, for she was the driving force behind the Eastgate’s evolution, was to offer books and gifts for sale in addition to perfectly prepared meals based on her mother’s Eastern European recipes. But eventually the retail part of the business took a back seat to the food and a new element was added – live performances.

For within a few years the Eastgate became a favorite venue for musicians, singers and comics from all over Chicagoland. Only large enough to accommodate about 40 people, the room brings performers and audience together in a way that enhances the enjoyment of each. In addition, for some reason, the acoustics of the space are a marvel whether musicians are playing country and folk songs or singers are scatting classic straight-ahead jazz.

We thought it would be fun to ask Eastgate patrons to share some of their experiences of the Eastgate. Below is one of these stories.

Ordering Lunch at the Eastgate

by B. Riley

It was a beautiful spring day, the kind you long for during the seemingly endless Chicago winter. I decided to take full advantage of the sunshine and treat myself to lunch at one of the neighborhood restaurants that had outdoor tables. After a short walk I came to a place with tables and chairs under canvas umbrellas and with the gentle breeze and the sunlight filtering through the nearby trees, it struck me as just what I was looking for.

I had never been to this particular place before but it looked charming from the outside. So, I sat down and when several minutes had passed and no one came out to take my order, I thought I better make my presence known. My initial thought was that they didn’t see me seated outside. Feeling a bit lazy, and perhaps a bit devilish, I decided to call the restaurant at the phone number they had on the side of building rather than go in.

The phone rang and a moment later a female voice on the other end of the line replied “Eastgate, how can I help you.”

“Hi, I was wondering if you could bring me a menu,” I replied simply.

“You want to place an order?” she inquired.

“Yes, that’s right” I said.

“And you want me to bring a menu to wherever you are?” she asked. Almost incredulously.

“Yes,” I said.

“So let me get this straight,” she went on, “You want me to come to wherever you are right now, bring you a menu, then you decide what you want, and I take your order, come back here, make your food and then bring it to you. Is that right?”

“Yeah, that’s right” I said, trying to contain my smile and trying hard not to laugh.

“But I’m the only one here right now. I can’t do that!” she responded in a half defiant, half pleading voice.

“Well, I don’t see why not,” I began rather innocently, “I’m sitting right outside your restaurant.”

I heard the phone click and thought, “Uh-oh. Now I’m in trouble.”

A few seconds later, a petite blond with a Dutch boy haircut and glasses came out the door and up to my table. Grinning from ear to ear, Olya, the Eastgate’s proprietor, gave me a high five and said, “Boy You got me good! I thought you were calling from your apartment!” She was obviously enjoying the joke as much as I was. The only thing better than her reaction was the delicious soup and sandwich she made for my lunch.

Ever since then, particularly on beautiful Spring or Summer days when seated outside, Olya and I giggle together when we recall my first encounter with the Eastgate Cafe.