If you walk into the Public Hotel in Chicago today—now rebranded as the Ambassador Chicago—you’re stepping into a ghost story that smells like expensive gin and expensive mistakes. Most people know it as the Pump Room. But for a specific generation of Chicagoans and history buffs, the name Blue Prince Pump Room carries a weight that modern minimalist decor just can't touch. It wasn't just a place to eat. Honestly, it was a stage where the 20th century basically decided who was cool and who wasn't.
Success leaves tracks. In 1938, Ernie Byfield opened the doors, and the world changed for the Gold Coast.
The Blue Prince Pump Room and the Booth One Myth
There is this thing about Booth One. You've probably heard of it. It’s the table right by the door where you could see everyone, but more importantly, everyone could see you. If you were sitting there, you had arrived. Gertrude Lawrence, the legendary stage actress, basically lived in that booth during her Chicago runs. She’d take phone calls there. Real, physical landline phones plugged into the wall. It was the original "influencer" move before the internet existed.
The Blue Prince Pump Room earned its reputation because it didn't care about the rules of the Midwest. It was Hollywood on Lake Michigan.
Think about the sheer chaos of a Saturday night in 1945. You have Frank Sinatra in one corner, maybe a few local mobsters trying to look inconspicuous in another, and a fleet of waiters dressed in flamboyant "Blue Prince" livery. These weren't your standard black-tie servers. They wore sapphire blue coats with silver trim, looking like something out of a fractured fairy tale. It was campy. It was over the top. And it worked because the food was actually good.
Why the "Blue Prince" Aesthetic Mattered
Modern restaurants are often beige. They are "safe." The Blue Prince Pump Room was anything but safe. The servers were part of the theater. They carried flaming skewers of meat—the famous "Shashlik"—on swords. Yes, actual swords. Imagine trying to get that past a health inspector in 2026.
The name "Blue Prince" itself stems from a bit of clever marketing and a nod to the restaurant's royal ambitions. Byfield wanted to evoke the elegance of the Regency era in London, specifically the Pump Room at Bath. He took that British stuffiness and injected it with American jazz-age adrenaline.
📖 Related: Popeyes Louisiana Kitchen Menu: Why You’re Probably Ordering Wrong
People didn't just go there to eat. They went to be seen. If you weren't "Blue Prince" material, you were sat in the back, near the kitchen, in what the staff affectionately (or cruelly) called "Siberia."
- The Lighting: It was designed to make everyone look ten years younger.
- The Walls: Covered in photos of celebrities who had dined there, creating a feedback loop of fame.
- The Service: Personalized to the point of absurdity. If a regular liked a specific type of mustard, they’d have it flown in.
Is the Magic Still There?
It’s complicated.
When Ian Schrager bought the hotel and turned it into the Public, he kept the Pump Room name but stripped away the velvet. He wanted "cheap chic." It was a bold move, but for the purists, it felt like painting over a Rembrandt with white latex. The Blue Prince Pump Room vibe—that thick, heavy atmosphere of mid-century power—was replaced by glowing globes and clean lines.
But here is the thing: the bones of the building don't change. You can still feel the draft from the front door where Humphrey Bogart used to stand. You can still see the spot where Lauren Bacall reportedly told a photographer to get lost.
Today, the Ambassador Chicago tries to bridge that gap. They know the history is their biggest asset. You can’t manufacture a century of scandals and celebrations.
The Menu That Defined an Era
Let's talk about the food for a second. It wasn't "fusion." It wasn't "farm-to-table" in the way we use the term now. It was decadent.
👉 See also: 100 Biggest Cities in the US: Why the Map You Know is Wrong
- Chateaubriand for Two: Carved tableside with a level of flourish that felt like a religious ceremony.
- The Flaming Swords: Again, the "Blue Prince" signature. If it wasn't on fire, was it even dinner?
- The Pump Room Parfait: A sugar bomb that signaled the end of a successful night.
Eating at the Blue Prince Pump Room was an endurance sport. You started with cocktails—strong ones—and ended hours later, likely with a few new friends or a few new enemies. It was the kind of place where business deals were sealed with a handshake and a third martini. Honestly, it’s a miracle anyone got any work done in Chicago in the 50s.
Navigating the Legacy in 2026
If you’re visiting Chicago and you want to find the spirit of the Blue Prince Pump Room, don't just look at the menu. Look at the architecture. Walk through the lobby of the Ambassador. Notice the way the light hits the floor.
The reality is that "fine dining" has changed. We wear sneakers to $400 dinners now. The idea of a "Blue Prince" waiter in a costume feels like a theme park to some. But there is a growing movement of "New Classic" diners who miss the theater. They want the swords. They want the sapphire blue coats. They want the feeling that dinner is an event, not just a caloric intake.
What Modern Critics Get Wrong
A lot of travel writers dismiss the Pump Room as a "has-been" spot. They’re wrong. They focus on the fact that Sinatra isn't there anymore. Well, obviously. But they miss the cultural DNA. The Blue Prince Pump Room set the template for the modern celebrity-chef-driven restaurant. It proved that the atmosphere is just as important as the seasoning on the steak.
Byfield was the original "front of house" genius. He understood that people are inherently tribal. We want to be in the "in" group. The Blue Prince brand was the gatekeeper of that group.
Practical Steps for History Seekers
If you want to experience what's left of this era, you have to be intentional about it. The original Blue Prince Pump Room doesn't exist in its 1940s form, but the echoes are everywhere in the Gold Coast.
✨ Don't miss: Cooper City FL Zip Codes: What Moving Here Is Actually Like
- Visit the Ambassador Chicago: Go to the bar. Order a classic martini—dirty, gin, no blue cheese olives (keep it authentic).
- Look at the "Wall of Fame": Many of the original photos have been preserved or archived. Study the faces. It's a masterclass in 20th-century style.
- Walk the Gold Coast at Night: The area around State and Goethe still feels like old money. The shadows are the same ones the Blue Prince regulars walked through seventy years ago.
- Research the Byfield Era: If you’re a real nerd for this stuff, find a copy of "The Pump Room Cookbook." It’s a window into a world of heavy cream and zero regrets.
The Blue Prince Pump Room wasn't just a room. It was a mood. It was the belief that for a few hours, under the right lights, with the right drink, you could be a prince yourself. Or at least sit next to one.
The swords might be gone, and the sapphire coats might be in a museum or a dusty basement, but the idea of the "Blue Prince" survives every time someone in Chicago decides to dress up, head out, and demand a better table than they probably deserve.
Moving Forward with the Legacy
Don't expect a time machine when you visit. Expect a palimpsest—layers of history built on top of each other. The Blue Prince Pump Room is the bottom layer, the foundation that everything else stands on.
To truly honor the history, don't just take a selfie. Put the phone down. Talk to the person across from you. Order something you can't pronounce. Be a little bit loud. That’s what Ernie Byfield would have wanted. That is the only way to keep the spirit of the Blue Prince alive in a world that is increasingly obsessed with the quiet and the clean.
Next Steps for Your Chicago Visit:
Book a table at the Ambassador Chicago specifically for a late-evening drink to avoid the brunch crowds. Ask the bartender if they have any stories about the old Booth One. Many of the long-term staff at the hotel have inherited "oral histories" from previous generations of servers that you won't find in any guidebook. Once you've had your fill of the Gold Coast, head south to the Chicago History Museum; they occasionally rotate exhibits featuring the original Blue Prince costumes and menus, providing a tactile connection to the city's most glamorous era.