Something In The Meh He Moves

Jose Andres is an amazing chef and a humanitarian, but does he run great restaurants anymore?

I have a problem with restaurant groups. Not all of them, but it is becoming a pattern.

I’m not just talking about TGI Fridays either. Local multi-unit operators like Dineamic (La Serre, Prime and Provisions, Siena Tavern) and Ballyhoo (Gemini, Denucci’s, Pomeroy), in their preference to emphasize scene over quality and their race to serve middle-of-the-bell-curve food, have failed to move me on many occasions in the last few years.

This isn’t always a rule. I think Boka Group and Lettuce Entertain You generally create consistent above average offerings.

I have also found a dislike of many chef-driven national concepts that bring their game to Chicago, though I had a pretty good experience at Gordon Ramsay Burger last month.

Some people will say it’s because I’m bougie, a homer, a basement-dwelling, mouth-breathing critic. You might call it “restaurantism” and I suppose that makes me a “restaurantist”.

Call it what you want, but I think it’s mostly that I have a preference for artisanal, locally-driven, independent, smaller owner operators and chefs. Preference might even be the wrong term, as some of these folks drop the ball too. What I’m saying is that this group tends to make up the highest percentage of experiences that really move me.

In my experience, Gibsons’ group falls somewhat closer to the Boka and Lettuce than they do Dineamic. Walk into their flagship in the Viagra triangle and you’re guaranteed the coldest of martinis and the most select of beef. If you want to feel like a world-ruling demigod, sidle your butt into one of their burgundy leather banquettes, and it’s gonna happen.

Nationally Jose Andres, acolyte of El Bulli-wizard Ferran Adria (Adria once fired Andres over a misunderstanding, but the two are now longtime best friends and collaborators), is the celebrity chef version of Gibsons, which is to say he’s generally found a way to merge art and commerce in his national expansion as a partner in ThinkFoodGroup.

I’ve been to the original Jaleo in Washington D.C. and I loved it. I’ve traveled to Vegas at least once a year for over a decade. Many of those times I’ve stopped into Andres’ properties like Bazaar Meat and China Poblano. One of the best meals I had in Vegas was at é by José Andrés, the tiny counter spot located in a “secret” room next to the Vegas location of Jaleo.  Though I’ve long grown weary of most modern gastronomy, I found my dinner there had the right combination of whimsy and true modernity, a reflection of the twinkling-eyed Andres himself.

Since that meal, Andres has become a bonafide humanitarian. His World Central Kitchen foundation has raised over a billion dollars and delivered culinary-based relief for many regions in crisis including Haiti, Ukraine and Palestine. Andres was nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize. He has been a constant thorn in Donald Trump’s side.

Andres is such a figure this portrait painted by Kadir Nelson hung in the National Portrait Gallery

That’s why when I found myself in need of dinner near the Chicago Theatre for a recent Sarah Silverman comedy show, I chose the Gibsons and ThinkFoodGroup collaboration Bar Mar.

If I needed a nudge, the online menu and photos promised sexy tuna cones, rosettes of ceviche, and mountains of caviar.  It looked like Shaw’s Crab House, but through the eyes of a creative modernist.

Walking into Bar Mar’s dining room, I was immediately smitten by the giant octopus sculpture swimming over the bar. I loved the yellow ceiling panels stacked and hanging from the ceiling like a rack of Calle Ocho dominos, the perfect acoustic foil to booming conversations. I loved the “million” candelabra chandeliers that hung over some of the tables.

But then I opened the menu to find an assortment of turkey burgers, crab cakes, salmon, chicken breast, steak, cobb salad, and LOL, a poke bowl. Did I accidentally slip into a wormhole that beamed me to the Seasons 52 in Schaumburg?

I asked the waiter if maybe they’d accidentally given me an all-day menu, because it did not reflect the beauty I’d seen online. He said, no, they had recently changed things and this was their new offering.

I debated leaving for something more exciting. I was not alone. After my meal I found this gem from “Steve R.” Say what you want about Yelp (and you’re probably right), but this data point, save the spelling error, was one of the most spot on reviews I’ve read all year. 

The show was in an hour, so I stayed.

My wife ordered the “Floral Cloud” cocktail featuring Fords Gin, Luxardo Maraschino, lemon juice, crème de violette and a “hibiscus-rose-orange blossom cloud”.  It was basically an Aviation cocktail and a show.

The drink was pitch perfect. The show, an Erlenmeyer flask bubbling with hibiscus-rose-orange-blossom-cloud, would have been amazing in 1997, but feels a little dated now like an old Mr. Wizard episode.

The smell was incredibly soothing, but our guy was so excited he wafted it four times directly in front of our noses like a street hawker with the kind of satisfied grin you’d reserve if you somehow ended up surprising your poor single mom with a gigantic house when you hit the big time. 

Because the server was so obsessed with the presentation, he underpoured the cocktail (which resided under the bubbling cloud). I know because we ordered a second one and received about 30% more cocktail. Maybe even more hilarious, he presented the second version with the same verve as though he’d never met us before.

Food started arriving. The lobster bisque was lukewarm, the quenelle of brandy crema curdling into the broth like some kind of soup version of an Irish Car Bomb cocktail (a shot of Baileys and whiskey dropped into a pint of Guinness).

The ceviche was balanced, but again wept a milkiness that wasn’t particularly appetizing to the eye. The torn mint garnish offered a tinge of bright counterpoint to the acidity of the cured fish, but the shards were so small they were overwhelmed by the habanero drops and citrus. A bigger whole leaf, while maybe not as pretty, would have been better for flavor balance.

Tender octo-chunks mixed with smashed potatoes dabbed in mayo and a smoked paprika sprinkle channeled a perfect patatas bravas.

The lobster roll was an improvement on the tired form, featuring pillowy brioche stuffed with tender butter poached lobster and a trio of saffron mayo clouds, and puckery pickled celery to cut the richness was perfect. A side of fries was golden and well-salted. Obviously I’m a basic white guy, but I like spice. Still, the accompanying spicy ketchup maybe had a little too much fire.

A “flauta” of crisp griddled bread stuffed with jamón serrano and drippy Manchego was delicious for a few bites. It was relatively small, but after the initial consumption, it became monotonous. The menu advertised “tomato fresco”, but it was hard to pick out. It needed more zingy sharp contrast.

While I ate it, I watched a dude wheel around a huge leg of Spanish ham and carve it tableside in the dining room. Call it FOMO, but I almost wish they’d grilled the cheese and then when it arrived, split the sandwich open and shaved fresh jamón from the cart.

Cauliflower dripping in honey mustard, Fresno chili and mint had the right balance and level of heat, but the florets were denture-friendly soft.

Though it was November the bill arrived with an advertisement for “Summer Fridays” advertising a 10% off special to anyone who worked in the office building adjacent to Bar Mar. 

While it has been unseasonably warm in Chicago, this is the kind of detail, along with the slow update of the website menu (it’s current as of this writing), that suggests the Chicago Bar Mar crew is not quite on top of things.

When I left the restaurant at 6:20 p.m., it was about 30% full on a Saturday night.  Was it because of the quality of the experience? Or was it that this downtown business district no longer has the traffic it used to post-Covid to support a big-time restaurant like Bar Mar? 

Is Jose Andres responsible? Is it the Gibsons group?  Given that Andres is busy saving the world, and threatening to run for Congress, he is likely more of figurehead and no longer involved into the day to day of his satellite locations. You wouldn’t expect him to. I didn’t expect Gordon Ramsay to shower me in donkey sauce and expletives (unless Guy Fieri and him collab) while I house his patties. But I do expect the burgers to be delicious in his name. 

Last year I hit the Jaleo in Vegas and had a similar meal to the Bar Mar one. The paella was gummy, some of the seafood off, and there was no socarrat, aka the crispy bits from the bottom of the pan to be found. I don’t know if it’s a trend or it’s personal bad luck, but I do think as long as Andres licenses his name, he should take a vested interest in making his properties worthy of it. 

If not, shut them down, sell them off and focus on the things that matter more. I’m not being ironic when I say I almost wish Andres had run against Trump for real, and that if there’s a shot, I’d love to have him take JD Vance out in 2028. If you think that’s absurd, would you rather have an arrogant selfish bankrupt reality TV star leading this country or a genuine thinker and humanitarian Nobel-nominee chef?

No matter who’s responsible or whatever the reasons for these things, the decision to pare down the menu so it reads like a chain steakhouse without the major investment in beef, is not the right one. If regular neighborhood traffic is dwindling, Bar Mar needs to be a destination.

They should double down on the execution. El Ideas would never survive in a hidden warehouse district near a commercial railroad if it was cooking chicken paillard.  If Bar Mar continues down it’s current uninspired path it will likely die a slow death. 

Andres is pure 2008-era Obama when he’s got his eye on the ball, and Chicago’s downtown restaurant scene could really use that brand of hope now.

Bar Mar is located at 120 N. Wacker Dr. in Chicago