Most "historic" restaurants coast on their age alone, serving mediocre food to tourists who just want to Instagram the vintage neon sign. But Illinois has somehow managed to keep alive a collection of genuinely great old restaurants that would be packed even if they opened yesterday, from a pre-Civil War tavern that still sells furniture to a Chicago steakhouse where the servers have worked longer than you've been alive.
The oldest restaurant in Illinois will sell you their chairs
Here's something you won't find in your typical dining experience: eating dinner while sitting on merchandise.
The Village Tavern has been multitasking since 1847
The Village Tavern in Long Grove opened in 1847 as Zimmer Tavern and Wagon Shop, making it older than the Republican Party, the safety pin, and the doughnut. Back then, everything in the restaurant had a price tag on it. Like the chair you were sitting on? Buy it. That lamp? Yours for the right price. While they've mostly stopped this practice (probably got tired of people haggling over salt shakers), the restaurant still has its original 35-foot mahogany bar that somehow survived the 1967 McCormick Place fire.
The dining room addition was built using wood from an 1840s barn, which means you're essentially eating inside recycled history. The current owners have kept it in the family, and while the menu has obviously evolved beyond whatever people ate in 1847 (hardtack and hope?), they've maintained that quirky "everything's for sale" spirit that made them famous. If you're looking for a dinner conversation starter, try "this place is older than the State of California."
Chicago's immigrant restaurants that became institutions
Chicago's restaurant scene basically rose from the literal ashes of the Great Fire, when the city went from having terrible food options to becoming the place where several iconic American dishes were invented.
The Berghoff holds liquor license number one
Herman Joseph Berghoff's life story sounds made up but isn't. He came from Germany in 1870, performed in Buffalo Bill's Wild West Show (yes, really), then opened a saloon in 1898 where he sold beer for a nickel and threw in free sandwiches. When Prohibition tried to ruin everyone's fun in 1920, Herman didn't panic. He just started making "near beer" and created a soda line, including the root beer they still serve today.
The really clever part? When Prohibition ended in 1933, Herman was literally first in line to get Chicago's Liquor License No. 1. The city still renews it every year as a tradition, like a bureaucratic inside joke that's lasted 90 years.
Today, Pete Berghoff (fourth generation) runs the place, and it still looks like your German great-grandmother's fantasy dining room: hand-carved woodwork, stained glass, and murals of the 1893 World's Fair. The creamed spinach has been the most popular side dish since 1945, which either means it's incredible or Chicagoans are weirdly stubborn about vegetables. The James Beard Foundation gave them an "America's Classics" award in 1999, probably for surviving Prohibition better than most actual speakeasies.
What to order at The Berghoff:
- Sauerbraten (if you're feeling adventurous)
- Wiener schnitzel (if you're not)
- The famous creamed spinach
- Root beer (made from Prohibition recipe)
- Anything with sauerkraut
Italian Village invented Chicken Vesuvio (you're welcome, Chicago)
Alfredo Capitanini arrived from Tuscany in 1924 with what the restaurant's official history describes as "little money, but big dreams," which is restaurant founder code for "completely broke but optimistic." He started washing dishes at a place called "New Italy," saved every penny, and opened Italian Village on September 20, 1927.
The second floor dining room is designed to look like an actual Tuscan village, complete with twinkling lights and frescoed walls. It's either charming or cheesy depending on your tolerance for themed environments, but after their wine selection kicks in (they have 25,000 bottles in their cellar), everyone agrees it's charming.
During World War II, anti-Italian sentiment forced them to drop "Italian" from the name and just call it "The Village," which is like trying to hide an elephant by calling it "The Large Gray Thing." They've served over 9 million meals and employed more than 40,000 Chicagoans, which means statistically, someone you know has probably worked there or at least spilled marinara sauce there.
The fourth generation (siblings Giovanna and Jonathan Capitanini) recently opened a new concept in the basement because apparently, three restaurants in one building wasn't enough. They claim to have invented Chicken Vesuvio, and since no one else has a better story, Chicago just goes with it.
Gene & Georgetti: where your server has worked there since the Carter administration
Gene & Georgetti opened in 1941 in a wooden building from 1872 that miraculously survived the Great Fire, probably because even fire respects a good steakhouse. Gene Michelotti from Lucca, Italy, and Alfredo "Georgetti" Federighi created what one critic called a "film noir movie set," which is restaurant review speak for "dark and hasn't been redecorated since opening day."
Frank Sinatra had his own corner booth (back left of the main dining room), where he'd have them open after hours for private dining. The walls are covered with photos of celebrities you'll recognize and aldermen you won't, all eating steaks the size of hubcaps.
The restaurant's most famous non-steak dish is "Chicken Joe," created in the 1980s when a regular wanted spicier chicken. Server Joe Pacini worked with chef Mario Navarro to create what's essentially chicken with an identity crisis, covered in sweet and hot peppers. Two brothers, Juan and J.J. Muñoz, have worked there for a combined 72 years, which means they've probably seen some things. As The Infatuation noted, this is where "being a good server is more an art form than a college student's weekend job."
Route 66 restaurants that fed America's road trip dreams
Before Interstate highways turned cross-country driving into a monotonous blur of identical rest stops, Route 66 was the Main Street of America, and Illinois had the best food along the entire route.
Lou Mitchell's gives everyone free donut holes
Lou Mitchell's opened in 1923 near Union Station and became known as "the first stop on the Mother Road." Since 1958, they've given every customer free donut holes and boxes of Milk Duds to women and children, a tradition inspired by the Greek custom of offering sweets to guests. It's either heartwarming hospitality or a clever conspiracy by dentists.
The National Park Service put them on the National Register of Historic Places in 2006, praising their "intense presentation of neon, shining glass, and sleek aluminum," which sounds like they're describing a disco ball but somehow perfectly captures the place. Presidents Reagan, Clinton, and Obama have all eaten here, presumably for the bipartisan appeal of pancakes.
Their menu hasn't changed much since the 1940s because why mess with thick-cut French toast that makes people drive from Indiana? The omelets come in 17 varieties and are roughly the size of a throw pillow. The coffee is strong enough to wake the dead, which you'll need after eating their portion sizes.
Maldaner's and the Ariston Cafe keep small towns alive
Down in Springfield, Maldaner's has been operating since 1884, making it the oldest continuously operated restaurant on Route 66 from Chicago to California. It's blocks from all the Lincoln sites, so you can have the "Abraham Lincoln ate here" conversation even though he died 19 years before it opened. Details.
The Ariston Cafe in Litchfield represents peak immigrant determination. Pete Adam, a Greek immigrant, opened it in Carlinville in 1924, then literally moved the entire restaurant to Litchfield in 1935 when Route 66 was realigned. That's commitment to location, location, location. They serve American, Greek, and Italian food, because Pete figured why limit yourself? It's been in the Route 66 Hall of Fame since 1992 and is the longest continuously operating restaurant on the entire Route 66 corridor.
Essential Illinois restaurant facts:
- Cozy Dog Drive In invented the corn dog (1949)
- The Berghoff survived Prohibition with root beer
- Italian Village has 25,000 bottles of wine
- Gene & Georgetti's servers average 30+ years
- Lou Mitchell's uses donuts as greeting cards
- Village Tavern is older than California
- Maldaner's has outlasted 29 presidents
- Ariston Cafe moved towns for better traffic
The ones we've lost (and what killed them)
Not every historic restaurant makes it, and their closures tell us something about what it takes to survive a century in the food business.
When tradition isn't enough
Won Kow opened in 1928 and served Al Capone's crew Americanized Chinese food, which sounds like a Coen Brothers movie plot. It lasted 90 years before closing in February 2018, proving that even gangster connections can't save you from changing neighborhoods and tastes.
Nuevo Leon in Pilsen was founded in 1962 by Mexican immigrant Emeterio Gutierrez and became a community institution. An electrical fire destroyed it in 2015 after 54 years, because sometimes it's not about business decisions but just terrible luck.
Most recently, Podhalanka, the last authentic Polish restaurant in Chicago's Polish Triangle, closed in 2024 when owner Helena Madej retired and returned to Poland. Sometimes restaurants die not from failure but from success that allows owners to finally retire.
Why any of this matters beyond nostalgia
The restaurant industry is brutal. According to industry statistics, only 51% of restaurants survive past five years. COVID threatened to close 20% of Illinois food establishments permanently. The ones that last a century aren't just lucky; they're doing something right.
Dr. Bruce Kraig, founding president of the Culinary Historians of Chicago, points out that Illinois' food culture comes from "a blend of flavors, techniques, and ingredients that reflect the state's multicultural heritage." That sounds academic, but what he means is: these restaurants survived because immigrants brought their best recipes and adapted them to Midwest tastes.
Restaurant historian Jan Whitaker notes that Prohibition actually democratized dining by forcing restaurants to focus on food over booze. The Chicago History Museum explains this let women and children dine out publicly, effectively ending male-only establishments. So we can thank Prohibition for making restaurants less like fraternity houses.
Catherine Lambrecht from the Culinary Historians of Chicago reminds us that Midwest cuisine came from "everyone from the Ojibwe harvesting wild rice to Belgian hoteliers inventing new dishes." These historic restaurants are living museums of that cultural mash-up, except the exhibits are edible and come with sides.
Planning your historic restaurant road trip
Let's be practical about this. You're not going to hit all these places in one weekend unless you want to gain 20 pounds and need a new liver.
Start with The Village Tavern if you want to say you ate at Illinois' oldest restaurant. It's in Long Grove, about 45 minutes northwest of Chicago, and the town itself is worth wandering around if you're into antique shops and places that sell decorative roosters.
In Chicago, you can hit The Berghoff, Italian Village, and Gene & Georgetti in one very ambitious eating day since they're all in or near the Loop. Lou Mitchell's is perfect for breakfast before catching a train at Union Station or starting a Route 66 road trip.
If you're doing the full Route 66 experience, Maldaner's in Springfield combines well with Lincoln tourism, and the Ariston Cafe in Litchfield is worth the stop just to say you ate at the longest-running restaurant on the entire route.
Tips for visiting historic restaurants:
- Make reservations (seriously, do it)
- Bring cash for old-school places
- Order the signature dish first visit
- Ask servers for stories
- Don't Instagram your entire meal
- Tip well (these servers are institutions)
- Buy the t-shirt (support preservation)
The bottom line on Illinois' historic restaurants
These places aren't museums, though they could be. They're working restaurants that happen to have survived long enough to become cultural landmarks. They've outlasted recessions, depressions, Prohibition, wars, and that weird period in the 1970s when everyone thought fondue was the future.
What makes them special isn't just their age or their stories about serving Sinatra. It's that they're still good. The Village Tavern would be charming even if it opened last year. The Berghoff's sauerbraten would be worth ordering even without the history lesson. Gene & Georgetti's steaks would satisfy even if you didn't know about the 72-year servers.
These restaurants remind us that dining out used to be an event, not just a transaction. They've survived by understanding that people don't just want food; they want experiences, stories, and connections to something bigger than Tuesday night's dinner. In an era of ghost kitchens and meal kits, that feels almost radical.
So yes, drive to Long Grove for pre-Civil War ambiance. Take out-of-town guests to Lou Mitchell's for free donuts. Claim a booth at Gene & Georgetti and pretend you're in a Scorsese film. These places won't last forever (nothing does), but they've lasted this long by being more than just places to eat. They're where Illinois keeps its culinary memories, one schnitzel and chicken Vesuvio at a time.
