THIS RESTAURANT IS CLOSED Bar Garcia

THIS RESTAURANT IS CLOSED Bar Garcia Restaurant Review:

by André Gayot

About the restaurant & the chef: At the foot of his snug boutique hotel "The Tuck," which comprises 14 rooms, each with its own décor, Juan Pablo Torre has hidden a few round bistro tables in a minimalist restaurant modestly dubbed Bar Garcia. (Garcia stands as a tribute to the merits of his grandfather.) There's not much there to prepare the guest to envision a gastronomical moment, except the surprising and somewhat unexpected chef Torre. The space is limited, but not his inspirations. The Argentinean-born chef of Sicilian descent has been passionate about cooking since childhood. Young but already seasoned, Torre has explored the pans and ovens of Spain, Italy, France, England, Germany, Japan and, yes, Russia, Azerbaijan and even Georgia, piling his cosmopolitan acquisitions over his Latino-Mediterranean foundation, hence his generosity with olive oil. It's no wonder that his menu reflects, translates and reshapes, even in the vocabulary, these experiences.

Likes: Even the bread, a ciabatta-baguette, is homemade.
Dislikes: A secret gem that may not be a secret for long.

Food & Drinks: Although the Brandade, usually cod and potato purée, is French, here the "Brandada" turns into a Spanish delight with a savory purée to mix at the table with an egg yolk and Australian truffles. The Middle East meets Mexico in the falafel tacos, while in the "Tataki de Chuleton" the evoked Japanese cooking applies to a New York steak, presented in Argentinean style, that melts in the mouth. The saffron croquettes must be Spanish, but the aïoli inside hails from Provence --- a perfumed treat anyway. The calamari a la plancha, definitively Mediterranean grilled with olive oil, arrives with the right texture: crunchy but not tough nor flabby. The Italian capunti is an interpretation based on fish eggs, usually tuna, with a powerful and salty marine bouquet (bottarga). For Torre, who unwinds his colorful scales with dexterity to avoid the hazardous encounters of fragrances, the ingredients come first. They come and go, picked and chosen according to the season and opportunities. The menu follows suit. Torre cooks what he finds in the market today, so veggies, fish, meats and fruit appear on the table and disappear when their season and freshness have passed. The buñuelos filled with dulce de leche are the finale to this fireworks dinner. The wine list emphasizes Italian labels; make sure to try one of the craft cocktails. Torre depicts his food as "eclectic." It's the least that can be said of the work of an inventive but industrious notable cook who stands really in person in front of his oven. A rare species.