Strike A Pose

What do pinup girls and craft beer have in common? Find out at Varga Bar.

by David Snyder

Mark Stehle BORN FROM BEER: Varga Bar chef R. Evan Turney admits he came up with the ideas for his inspired cheese plate after downing a few Dogfish Heads.

[ review ]

Long before the Internet began providing frustrated adolescents with an unebbing supply of wrist-bending entertainment, there was the pinup girl, a dame whose lustful reach was limited to walls, lockers and the sides of fighter planes. And with the exception of the late Farrah Fawcett and her red swimsuit, no individual has cast a longer shadow on the decorative proclivities of the American male than Alberto Vargas.

Originally created for Esquire in the 1940s by the Peruvian-born painter for whom they're named, the "Varga Girls" fill a specific seat at the American pop culture table. Back then, U.S. service men looked to Vargas' flirty vixens for good fortune. The cheesecake images also recall a time when sin was more civilized: At her most scintillating, a Varga Girl's soft watercolor curves and long-lashed gaze suggest nothing more than the slightest dash of mischief.

But as I stared at the sultry ladies that local artist John Albright put on the ceiling of George and Valerie Anni and R. Evan Turney's new bar, I couldn't help but wonder: What do these 2-D coquettes have in common with this smoky glass of Founders Backwoods Bastard beer, or this vibrant pot of house-pickled vegetables?

The short answer is not much. But does that really matter?

In mid-May, the Annis (Mercato, Valanni), along with longtime chef Turney, opened this pub in Azul's former digs at 10th and Spruce. The cantina's bright blue interior has been tossed in favor of tasteful mauve, burgundy and sea foam, a checkered floor, sleek banquettes and a mahogany community table; floor-to-ceiling windows open to shaded outdoor seating for 40.

George, a longtime admirer of Vargas, decided with his partners to tap into Americana with an all-domestic beer list and a comfort-food-inspired menu. Aside from some cleverly named cocktails (e.g. "Miss July" is a daquiri), this patriotic path is too generic to truly connect the menus to a distinctive cultural marker like the Varga Girls. Not to worry, though — Turney, along with bar manager Ian De Fabio, has already started establishing Varga's standalone identity.

One of the bar's proudest strengths is its beer program, an intelligently tailored selection of 20 drafts and two hand pumps grouped into user-friendly categories ("Session," "Strong"). De Fabio provides just enough info to encourage an informed choice. The Lagunitas Czech Style Pils? "Grassy, citrus, well-balanced, 5.3 percent." What more do you need to know?

Beer has influenced the food in unexpected ways. For starters, Turney confessed in an interview that he came up with the cheese plate after downing two pints of Dogfish Head 120-Minute IPA. Bless that high-ABV stuff, because it's inspired one of the most exciting and meticulous spreads around. Turney's pickle-almond caramel amplifies the sugary undertones of Jasper Hill Farms Clothbound Cheddar and delivers a subtle current of acidity. Rivers Edge Up In Smoke — a hickory-imbued goat cheese from Oregon, misted with bourbon and wrapped in maple leaf — is paired with a decadent bourbon maple mustard, and it also works well against a tart cherry root beer balsamic reduction.

Indeed, the dishes that seem at home beside beer — apps, bar eats — are where Varga Bar is at its best. I loved the crunch of the lightly broiled panko crust on the truffled mac and cheese, a deceptively light layering of gruyere, mascarpone, fontina and Parmesan. Turney's wings, slow-cooked in duck fat, are the most tender rendition I've had, gifted with a slowly unfolding finish from the pomegranate molasses bourbon chili sauce.

A deep, smoky flavor in the onion ring batter meant the fried snacks were the perfect partner for applewood-smoked-bacon Kobe beef sliders. A fragrant chorizo-spiked fennel herb broth made for an inviting bowl of cockles and mussels. I almost wished the jumbo lump cheese fries featured less crab so I wouldn't feel so guilty dunking them in Turney's house-made ketchup.

Many of Varga's larger plates, however, are wanting for flavor. The dizzying perfume of the tender, fall-off-the-bone ribs — cinnamon, coriander, Szechuan peppercorn — did not translate to the palate. I expected sharper flavors in the pulled pork sandwich, and the Parmesan sauce served atop hand-cut rigatoni. The tender, juicy roasted organic chicken breast, and the accompanying fingerlings, would have benefited from more seasoning.

As a kid who spent every Saturday morning in front of the TV watching Thundarr the Barbarian and eating bowls of sugary cereal, I looked forward to the breakfast cereal ice cream trio (I sampled the Apple Jacks, Trix and Corn Pops varieties). But the quantity of crushed cereal used to render the brands recognizable results in heavy, almost bready mouthfuls that overwhelm the end of the meal. In contrast, the bread pudding — light and moist, with a restrained sweetness — proved the kitchen didn't need to be cute to impress.

So Varga Bar's offerings, best with a pint of craft beer within reach, might not share much common ground with tiny-waisted women who deal in coy poses — the real American beauties, for now, are the smart snacks and starters. Let's raise a glass to the entrées catching up.

(david.snyder@citypaper.net)

Varga Bar | 941 Spruce St., 215-627-5200, vargabar.com. Open daily, 11:30 a.m.-1 a.m. Appetizers, $4-$11; salads, sandwiches, $7-$12; entrées, $15-$22. Wheelchair accessible.