The wait for a table at Centro Ristorante, the red-hot eatery in River North, has stretched past the hour mark, and those stupid or unlucky enough to have arrived hungry are cooling their heels at the long bar in the front room. Centro has been designed to look like an Italian backyard, with muted colors and big photos of food and food shops on the walls. But only the neophytes are looking at the walls. The regular clientele, sleek and monied, are looking at each other, and the staff are looking at the clientele. “We get serious women here on the weekend,” explains manager Billy Arnott, “East Bank Club women in these little dresses, with everything toned just right.”
It’s early yet, and there are no celebrities in the room. Centro and its better-known predecessor, the Rosebud Cafe on Taylor Street, are havens for celebrities. In fact, Chicago hasn’t seen anything like Dana’s establishments since the heyday of the late-lamented Fritzel’s, the Loop hangout for Joe DiMaggio, Marilyn Monroe, Phyllis Diller, and Tony Bennett during the 50s and 60s. Now the newspaper columns are filled with the names of stars who dine with Dana: Madonna, Frank Sinatra, Tommy Lasorda, Carol Burnett, Linda MacLennan . . .
Yet there is a dark side to this publicly cheery man. Though he readily spills anecdotes about the stars, he’s more circumspect about less savory customers. He can be a martinet with his staff, and worse with business associates; over the last decade he has been sued many times. “The only people who like Alex Dana are those people who don’t know him, like his customers,” says one former associate.
Across from the bar–an expanse of dark wood set with mirrors and garlands–are blown-up excerpts from Kup and Sneed columns dated 1987. The Sneed selection reads: “The Rat Pack: While restaurateur Arnie Morton was exiting from the Rosebud restaurant Wednesday eve, Frank Sinatra was entering. Sinatra, Jilly Rizzo and the rest of the crooner’s clan dined on square noodles dished out by host Alex, although buddy Dean Martin was too tired from his flight to join them. ‘Where have you been hiding this place?’ Sinatra quipped.”
While filming Prelude to a Kiss last spring, Baldwin started to frequent the Rosebud with girlfriend Kim Basinger. “They were kissy-face in a booth one night,” says Dana. “He loved the tiramisu.” In fact he loved it so much that even when he wasn’t eating at the Rosebud (he dined there maybe 20 times) he’d call from other haunts, then swing by for the tiramisu on his way home. Dana says Madonna’s party was delighted with the confection.
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Likewise Sinatra. “Sinatra likes sausage, veal, wine, and hot bread,” Dana relates. “The guy eats big.” One day last July, Sinatra placed an order for a spread of pasta and antipasto for his flight out of town. He also asked for egg salad “Jewish-style,” which puzzled Dana no end. “I didn’t know what the fuck that was.” Finally a friend told him to dice in green onions. Sinatra’s private stewardess and two pilots stopped by to pick up the take-out spread.
Dana is usually handy with a celebrity tidbit (“Dolly Parton was in on Saturday night with a group of 12. She drank champagne”), and he keeps the columns stoked with star sightings by having Benny Siddu call in names to Sneed and Kup. “We don’t call INC,” says Siddu. “We don’t get much play from them.” Sneed is the favored recipient. She says restaurant mentions, which may seem like unadulterated PR, nonetheless interest her readers: “People want to know what celebrities are in town.”
