Review: Lowcountry & Clark St. Karaoke
3343 N. Clark St. 773-996-9997
Rating: !!! (out of 4) Off to a good start
If Clark Street in Wrigleyville could be summed up in two words, they’d be “sports” and “beer.” So it’s no surprise a fancy cocktail bar may not take off, despite the demand for it throughout other parts of the city. That’s not to say the average neighborhood resident doesn’t want a good cocktail every now and again. It just needs to be packaged differently. That’s exactly what Pan Hompluem did when he took over the loungey craft cocktail-karaoke bar Blokes & Birds last year. Goodbye, low-lit date spot. Hello, Lowcountry, a seafood-in-a-bag picnic with quality cocktails, karaoke and beer pong. Check your clean hands at the door, and grab a bib. You’ll need it.
We’re just havin’ a backyard party
Blokes & Birds didn’t feel like a T-shirt and flip-flops kind of place. But there’s no sign of the old bar at Lowcountry. That’s how Hompluem wanted it. “In order to move forward with a new concept, I can’t have anything that reminds people of Blokes & Birds,” he said. He wanted approachability with Lowcountry, “something that’s inviting, where you can let your hair down and get your hands messy.” Rows of picnic tables covered in brown paper (for easy cleanup) provide a particularly inviting atmosphere. The room is bright with white and nautical blue paneled walls; one is covered in moss, and another features a mural of crustacean creatures entangled in a fisherman’s line amidst some turbulent waves. Wooden fishing bobbers and glass fishing floats-turned-terrariums are suspended from the ceiling. The menu is written on chalkboard paint on both sides of the restaurant, and two horse troughs in the center of the room serve as hand-washing stations. Nothing fancy here. Despite the seafaring decor, Lowcountry feels just as Wrigleyville as any other bar. Around 10 or 11 p.m., the kitchen closes and it becomes Brocountry (no, really, that’s what Hompluem and customers have been calling it), when the picnic tables turn into beer-pong tables. “It’s kind of us paying homage to where we’re at,” Hompluem said.
Hompluem looks back fondly on summers spent in the Gulf Coast as a kid when he and his family would share seafood boils of crawfish and shrimp at a picnic table. “We just went to town with our hands,” he said. While the seafood-in-a bag concept is trending with The Angry Crab in West Ridge and The Boiler Shrimp and Crawfish in Skokie, boils in the South are traditional social events. “I want to recreate that experience of bonding and community over a boil,” Hompluem said.
Now take Mr. Crawfish in your hand
My childhood self would have felt that Lowcountry lived up to my “It’s not food if you can’t wear it” motto, but adult Heather felt that bibbing up was the responsible thing to do. It’s an oily mess inside those seafood-filled bags, and if I wanted to decimate it properly, I’d need to not worry about staining my yellow crop top. Diners can order on paper menus at each table. First, mark how many pounds of protein you want. Boil offerings include shrimp (head on or off), snow crab legs, king crab legs, clams and mussels, as well as dungeness crab, lobster and crawfish if they’re in season. Everything is market price by the pound, which makes the chalkboard menu handy. Then circle the sauce—cajun, lemon-pepper, garlic or everything (the three sauces combined)—all of which are New Orleans-inspired, Hompluem said. Next, circle how much heat you can handle on a scale of one to four, one being “weak sauce aka LeBron” and four being “ridiculously hot.” (Hompluem said there’s an off-menu level five option called “The MJ” for Michael Jordan, “because he’s the greatest of all time.”) Finally, choose any add-ons you want in the bag: corn, sausage or potatoes ($2 each).
Our server said shrimp is the best bang for your buck if you’re looking for a lot of food. We split a pound of it (market price $15, head off for my ichthyophobic friend) and a pound of snow crab legs (market price $18) between three of us with the everything sauce, corn and potatoes and a side of honey-butter jalapeno cornbread ($5). The tray arrived with a bucket for shells, and steam puffed out of the bags when the server cut them open. We dove in hands-first. I had absolutely no shame in grabbing a soft-shell crab by the claw and waving it around. If we’re already wearing bibs, why not play with the food? Shrimp was definitely a great choice—the cajun flavors really clung to each bite. I could have gone a notch higher than two on the heat index, but that was pushing it for my less spice-inclined friends.
The menu also includes smaller portions of menu items such as calamari and popcorn chicken. Then there are the banh mi sandwiches, the “better po’ boy,” Hompluem said, adding that it’s a nod to his Southeast Asian heritage. The entire menu offers an affordable seafood experience that’s hard to come by in Chicago. “If you want to go eat seafood, it’s a big commitment, usually a date night on Saturday night because it’s usually pretty expensive,” he said. “I don’t see seafood like that because I’m Thai, … and every summer I’d go back to Thailand and seafood is just like chicken. It’s an everyday thing.”
Hurricane drunk
The juxtaposition of my craft cocktail next to a metal tray of finger food in a bag was delightful. The craft cocktail concept wasn’t enough for Blokes & Birds to hinge on in the neighborhood, but the cocktail selection certainly has not been watered down with the new concept. Hompluem found Raymond Chester, who runs Lowcountry’s bar program, at The Aviary. “Cocktails have to be done really well,” Hompluem said. “For me, it’s the contrast. The food is approachable [and] very get-your-hands-dirty, but I want my cocktails to be handcrafted and more higher-end with high-quality ingredients.”
The best-seller is The Good Life ($11), with bourbon, pomegranate liqueur, raspberry-hibiscus tea and plum bitters. It was sweet and syrupy with prominent raspberry and subtle plum flavors. My favorite was the Lowcountry Limeade ($11), with gin, lime juice, brown sugar, basil and, on the rim, brown sugar, chili powder, cayenne, ginger powder, smoked paprika and pink Himalayan sea salt. Hompluem is proud of the hurricane, a popular New Orleans rum-based cocktail that’s usually a syrupy, artificial blue mess. Lowcountry’s mixes rum, mango puree, orange juice, lime juice and cinnamon-allspice tiki bitters. It tasted like fresh, fruity gummies (in the best way possible).
There’s a healthy selection of rotating craft beer on draft and some classic cocktails. Like at Blokes & Birds, the menu is more elevated than most everything else the neighborhood has to offer, but the dice game for $3 shots really caters to the location. One person in the group rings a bell near the front door and tosses a giant red foam die; whatever number it lands on indicates the liquor, ranging from Jameson to Malort.
Tune up. Turn up.
Formerly, the space below Lowcountry was a community karaoke lounge. Hompluem converted the space into five private karaoke rooms and called it Clark St. Karaoke, a concept he thought would be a good addition after several phone calls and emails asking about private rooms. Rooms go for $35-$45 an hour, depending on the size of the space, and bottle service is offered ($150-$160 a bottle). Some friends, myself and a bottle of Jack Daniels settled into one of the cozy rooms with oriental rugs on the walls. You can also order from the bar upstairs, which I find to be the better deal, but I’ll always favor a fine cocktail over a Jack and Coke.
Initially, I thought we’d stay an hour. However, that time flies, considering the time it takes to learn how to navigate the song catalog. After 45 minutes, some Elvis and an absurd rendition of The Beatles’ “Oh! Darling,” we were just loosening up. An hour and 15 minutes in and we were nailing every note to “Bohemian Rhapsody.” There were metal versions of Whitney Houston and The Beach Boys, there were Beyonce battles, there was a performance of Celine Dion’s “It’s All Coming Back to Me Now” with more conviction than a Sunday televangelist special. You can’t get these experiences in a karaoke bar full of strangers. As a karaoke queen, I will say the song catalog could be stronger—it seriously lacked some staple Amy Winehouse tunes, David Bowie and other sing-alongs. But overall, I’ve never had more fun on a karaoke night, which will come in handy come wintertime.
Bottom line: It goes without saying that Hompluem understands his audience. Between Lowcountry and Clark St. Karaoke, he’s delivered a laid-back and interactive neighborhood crowd-pleaser that doesn’t take itself too seriously, despite the elevated menu offerings. Not only is it affordable, Lowcountry also smashes the notions that quality seafood and craft cocktails can only be fine dining experiences. Let your hair down. Get your hands messy. This is Lowcountry.
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