Chicagoans, prepare to get kitschified. Upon sitting down in a plastic, sparkly booth at the "diner deluxe," you'll be forced to don a paper Ed Debevic's deli hat. Clad in primary-colored polyester, servers dish out sassy mock rudeness while taking and serving your order.

A staple for tourists and one-time necessary visit for locals, Ed's lavishly spans almost an entire block in bright pink and green. Enter the faux-'50s eatery and prepare to be sucked into a hodgepodge of characters, fake prints of Elvis and Sinatra autographs and other smart-aleck decor.

The atmosphere compensates for the ho-hum menu, where the most interesting items include Kitchen Sink nachos and jack cheddar quesadillas (though the Chili Six Ways is quite yummy). Come for a burger and a Vanilla Coke ("Sicko!" retorted my waitress), top it off with the World's Smallest Ice Cream Sundae (no bigger than a shot glass, seriously) and stay for the wait staff's countertop booty-dance. Most sandwiches and burgers hover just under $10.

Though you may get lost behind the hostess's fake 'fro, don't forget to put a coin in one of eight bubblegum machines. Just don't stick your money in the tableside jukebox. According to our server, "It's as fake as your blond haircolor."

Centerstage Reviewer: Carly Schwartz