I met Fergal through soccer. A young computer programmer, he came to Chicago from Ireland in the late eighties, and we hooked up when he was looking for a team. After eight years, Fergal went back to Ireland last fall. We're going to miss him on defense.

Fergal was a great source for what's "real" Irish in Chicago. Not much passed muster with Fergal. The Abbey Pub and a couple other little places. So I'm wondering what Fergal would have thought of Fado.

Fado is astutely located in the sector of River North that's visited by almost every traveler to our fair city-next to the Rock 'n' Roll McDonald's and under the benign gaze of two Chicago landmarks, the Rainforest Café's giant tree frog and the Hard Rock's air guitar. To my pleasant surprise, no immense leprechauns or giant shamrocks loomed over the front door when I visited.

It was a little hokey, but Fado seems to have been executed with an effort at good taste. The outside is designed to look like two traditional storefronts, one for "McNally & Sons" and the other "Ceol Agus Craic," which translates roughly as "music and fun." The inside showcases the historical gathering places of the Irish people. "Fado" means "long ago" in Gaelic Irish, and the eatery has been decorated to illustrate "the story of Ireland's rich and celebrated pub culture."

Fado is really six different historical settings in one. Upon entry, you see the massive wood tables and chairs of the fifth- and sixth-century Celtic chieftain. A stone Dolmen, a monument marking the burial grounds of kings, wraps itself around this area of the bar, and crafted metals depict the work of Celtic blacksmiths who beat iron and bronze into weapons for the hunters and warriors.

Visitors walk past a lattice screen on the bar reminiscent of the huts inhabited by workers in Ireland's cottage industries. This section is peppered with antiquated manufacturing devices, including looms, spinning wheels, a butter churn and even a water pump. The floor becomes cobblestone and timber, and diners sit under an open loft.

The final first-floor area re-creates the Post Office/Shop Pub of the turn of the century, where villagers met to gossip among the clutter of merchandise. From there it's a trip upstairs, passing under a "currach" fishing boat suspended from the ceiling, to the world of St. Brendan's monks on the mezzanine, marked by a stone-carved cross and altar table and then up another flight to the "rural country cottage pub."

The country pub highlights the cozy world of the small dramshop proprietor, with more stone and timber materials and a raised floor in one corner for entertainment. In marked contrast, the last setting upstairs depicts the Dublin Victorian Pub, with velvet curtains, stained glass, beveled mirrors and brass.

Much of the interior decorating was done with authentic materials, like the 100-year-old bar in the Victorian Pub that was shipped in forty pieces from Dublin and reassembled at Clark and Grand. The only incongruous note is struck by the stools: Half the seats in Fado seem to be two-foot high stools. That may be authentic, but I'd find it uncomfortable hanging out all night with my mates at the pub squatting, on one of those stools, even though the seats are nicely padded.

The menu, like the decor, runs the gamut of classic Irish pub grub. Potato and leek soup is served daily, and four kinds of traditional Irish boxtys-Irish potato pancakes stuffed with corned beef, salmon with tomatoes and cream cheese or other fixings-are also available.

My dining companion Alexa and I passed on the Irish-style bacon and cabbage, the Irish stew, the chicken cottage pie and the all-day Irish breakfast in favor of the Guinness beer-battered fish and chips and the shepherd's pie. Alexa paddled through half of her currach of shepherd's pie before she had to portage the rest on home, and I also ran out of gas on all of those tasty batter-dipped chips. I did manage to finish off the warm root-vegetable melange on the side.

Unfortunately, we ran out of room before we could tackle the brown bread ice cream or the whiskey trifle. We're going back for the fresh Galway Bay-style mussels, some dessert, and more Guinness. Slainte.