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January 15-21, 2004

naked city

El Vez


Photo By: Michael T. Regan


After its visual presentation, the most prominent element of Stephen Starr's ninth restaubar, El Vez, is the raucous nature of executive chef Jose Garces' ultra-fresh fare (like his handmade guacamole, prepared tableside), which meshes perfectly with the kinky, kitschy decor of the room. Only Starr's stately but ice-cool Morimoto comes as close to perfect synergy between cuisine and design. From El Vez's campy, neon signage to the mosaic-tiled bar and its rotating centerpiece, a gold-plated low-rider bicycle (designed by sculptor Phil Mestas, with Oscar De La Hoya tchotchkes stuck inside its workings), the place is Mexicali '60s/'70s pop as religious experience. Some of El Vez's fun seems to be up to the clientele to provide, with communal tables and an old-school, curtained-off photo booth, snapshots from which adorn the walkway to the bathrooms. At times, there is a sumptuous, hidden delicateness at work, both in the nontraditional Mexican fare and the decor's tonal palette of warm reds and golds, a simmering heat reflected in the high-backed velvet banquettes. But after that, nothing at El Vez is low-key. The back-wall mural screen (featuring toreadors in sombreros, screaming señoritas, pompadoured Presleys and bits o' Charo) matches El Vez's lampshades and lighting sconces. There's a gold-plated guacamole cart, wheeled about by servers squashing avocados, onions and fresh-squeezed lime juice into a lava-rock pig for a mortar-and-pestle effect. There's gold plate everywhere you stare, and you can't help but get dizzy when you focus on the brightly lit De La Hoya bike (it reportedly cost $15,000). And, of course, there's the amber-backlit diorama of 70-some handmade Day of the Dead dolls, posed in different tableaux -- playing guitars, kissing, mourning -- with bleeding, flaming hearts and crosses stuck within this multilayered landscape of freak-outs, Mexican style. Olé, baby.

El Vez, 13th and Sansom sts., 215-928-9800.



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