I like to think of the restaurant world like sports: there are heroes and villains, legends and heels. And then there are the GOATs. I love thinking about the Greatest of All Time in particular because they help define what it means to be fed and to find
community. To me, the greatest restaurants have staying power, influence, quality, and relevance, year in and year out. With almost two decades of exploring this city’s restaurants, I feel it’s time to start naming some of the GOATs of Los Angeles, places that only exist here and create a distinct cultural significance.
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I’m calling this my Pantheon of LA Restaurants (not to be confused with my Pantheon of Animals, a deep cut). My first inductee: the stately and timeless Jar in Beverly Grove. Founded by chef Suzanne Tracht, Jar celebrates its 25th anniversary this year, and it’s hard to think of a restaurant that has navigated so much while keeping so closely to its original course. A modern chophouse wasn’t a popular dining format back in 2001. Opened days after the September 11 attacks, Jar underwent a major interior transformation in 2004. That classic midcentury modern look continues to make it an appealing setting for film and television. The redesign preceded, by a number of years, the midcentury modern revivaldriven in the late aughts and 2010s by Mad Men and the magazine Dwell, and it wasn’t the restaurant’s only prescient move.
Jar is a Pantheon-worthy restaurant because it’s played the long game since day one: inventive yet familiar food rooted in a California sensibility; professional and gracious hospitality; and a near-perfect ambience that works for every occasion, except, thankfully, the most casual. In jeans-and-T-shirts LA, it’s nice to clean up a little for dinner. Jar’s classy look is the perfect accompaniment to a dark suit or striking dress. You’ll feel like you’re in the proper costume.
Dining at Jar recently for the first time in years, I got a fresh taste of Tracht’s cooking and the space. Tucked in among Beverly Boulevard’s looming facades, it reminded me of long-gone celebrity haunts like Chasen’s, Morton’s, or even the old Ma Maison — restaurants that oozed glamour and charm. Inside, you’re transported to a studio set, where the scene could be the infamous double date in La La Land or the awkward man-date in I Love You, Man (both shot at Jar).
Unlike a lot of old Hollywood restaurants that were more party atmosphere than serious dining destination (a trend bucked, notably, by Wolfgang Puck’s Spago), Jar was always about the food. Tracht, its founding female chef, met Thai American chef de cuisine Preech Narkthong at their previous gig, Jozu, a modern Asian restaurant. Their collaboration bent the rules of the chophouse with braised lamb shanks, pot roast, and seared lemongrass chicken alongside grilled steaks. Tracht opened in partnership with Campanile’s Mark Peel, and early reviews were uneven. Former Los Angeles Times critic S. Irene Virbila described the room as “severe and uncomfortable” as well as loud, complaining about the Philippe Starck-designed molded plastic chairs. “Once the food comes, though,” Virbila wrote, “skies are blue.”
In 2004, Peel sold his stake to Phil and Monica Rosenthal, years before Phil morphed from Everybody Loves Raymond producer to everyone’s lovable food TV unc. In Virbila’s re-review that year, published before the redesign of the space, she confessed that she had worried Jar would go the “way of the dodo,” though she was smitten with the pot roast and ultimately awarded Jar three stars. Thank goodness Tracht changed up the interior. From there, she surrounded herself with quality, committed staff and a cooking partner (Narkthong) who could amplify and complete her skills. The storyboard from then to now has more or less been success to success.
Jar’s memorable bits are easy to point out: ice-cold lychee martinis whipped up in seconds; a welcoming bar that overlooks swaths of the dining room instead of a wall; the gorgeous wood-paneled dining room itself, adorned with just enough art to keep every angle interesting; professional but warm service; and a sturdy American-ish steakhouse menu that will never let you down. Deviled eggs topped with lump crab? Check. Wood-grilled New York strip? Check. Chicken schnitzel for the white meat types? Check. You cannot fault Jar’s food, especially the stuff given Asian inflections, like duck fried rice or kimchi Brussels sprouts or char siu pork chop, which wouldn’t feel out of place in a swanky Singapore hotel or Seoul shopping mall. (I go on at length about the food in this recent Eater LA dining report.)
What elevates Jar is the full experience, offering ceremony and relief from the burdens of LA’s often competitive, relentless lifestyle. Tracht says what motivates her is when regulars bring their kids in and say their parents used to bring them when they were young. It’s the first bite of coq au vin or chocolate pudding: edible core memories. The room and the comforting chophouse fare are the constants. It could be 1964, 2007, 2026; heck, maybe it’s 2043. Jar is where you are now, in the center of your own story, acting out the life you’ve always wanted.
