If you chose to dwell on it, the rock-meets-church decor of celebrichef Graham Elliot’s third spot, Graham Elliot Bistro, could be just as distracting as the television-and-Twitter persona of its founder. There’s a Marshall stack host stand, menus taped to discount-bin LPs, and votive candles that pay equal homage to Grant Achatz and Eddie Vedder, Julia Child and Henry Rollins. Not enough people are weary of a chef who cultivates overearnest associations with rock and roll as a branding strategy when all he really needs to do is cook something good—or direct his cooks to. Branding is Elliot’s job today, and it brings people into his restaurants.
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The name of the guy in charge of the cooking at Graham Elliot Bistro isn’t even on the restaurant’s website—though it is on the menu. Jacob Saben is a four-year veteran of the G.E. organization, and you haven’t heard much about him because until recently you never heard much about any of the talent behind Elliot’s name (though plenty have gone on to make names for themselves elsewhere). Saben is given the task of presenting an ultimately straightforward menu of appetizers, pastas, and entrees supposedly incorporating no more than three ingredients each (an allusion to rock-and-roll chord progressions?). The idea is to “focus on technique, the craft of cooking . . . not artistry.” That’s in contrast to the more manipulated food now being served at the flagship (currently helmed by Andrew Brochu), and the highly manipulated food Elliot made his name with at Avenues.
These dishes were so buoyant and springlike (in July) that they’re hard to reconcile with a couple of terrific flops, such as oversalted shaved asparagus with a diced hard-cooked egg whose deconstruction is among the most radical (and difficult to eat) presentations on the menu.
Another of G.E.B.’s stated goals is to highlight “the relationship between food, music, spirituality.” Oh well, whatever, never mind; on the occasions I visited, most of the crowd eschewed the darkened dining room and one of the most entertainingly in-your-face open kitchens I’ve come across for the front and rear patios. If patrons preferred the company of neighboring condo dwellers grilling in the alley to G.E.B.’s votive candles and the three-chord soundtrack inside, it’s surely more a consequence of the summer season than a reflection on the figurehead’s overreaching affectations. Or is it?
841 W. Randolph 312-888-2258
gebistro.com
