Penguin   

Suppose your dad's 1965 rec room served food -- and beer -- and had waiters and waitresses with tattoos and piercings and thick sturdy Elvis Costello glasses. Suppose your friends thought it was cool to hang out there in the red vinyl booths and wood paneling with your dad and his working-class buds. Suppose the jukebox had something for everyone. Suppose it was the only place in town you could get a fried bologna sandwich or a veggie burger at 1AM. Just a dream? Not for Charlotte's evolving Plaza-Midwood neighborhood where toads are turned into princes and impossible things are happening every day.With one foot in the past and one in the future, The Penguin is full of contradictions, cheap drinks and killer eats. A former crumbling mid-century diner resurrected into the axis of hip, this restaurant/bar/hangout gives patrons what they want and what they didn't know they needed. Things you knew you wanted: burgers, barbecue, dogs, onion rings and banana pudding. Things you didn't know you needed (but you do): fried pickles, the Tupelo Special (that's peanut butter and bananas a la Elvis), sweet potato fries and a nice glass of Ferrari Carano Merlot.Pull up a stool at the small, but cozy bar, order a cold Schlitz, light up a cig and start making friends or grab your posse and secure a big booth for some serious hang time. Not feelin' social? Call in takeout and eat your barbecued beans and weenies over the kitchen sink. The Penguin feels like home either way -- is that your mama callin'?