"There’s no real reason to go to Michael Jordan’s Steak House unless you want to eat a 23-layer chocolate cake the size of your head. Connected to the InterContinental Hotel on the Mag Mile, this place feels like it’s stuck in MJ’s heyday. The main dining room upstairs is a cross between someplace high schoolers go for a "fancy" pre-prom dinner, and a place where fur-coated tourists visit because they don’t know about Chicago’s storied steakhouses. And while service is attentive and warm, unfortunately, the food here is as snoozy as the scene." - veda kilaru, john ringor