Primebar
WHAT: Primebar
WHERE: 155 N. Wacker Dr.
OUR RATING: Skip It!
(primebarchicago.com)
Situated in Chicago’s Loop, Primebar defines itself as a contemporary ale house, offering food, beers and cocktails. As soon as you walk in it’s clear the clientele who frequent Primebar are the Loop’s business men and women who probably work in a shiny skyscraper Downtown for a law firm and who pop in this place for a lunch meeting or after work happy hour. If you don’t fit this bill, or even if you do, we suggest skipping this spot and dining elsewhere for a happier happy hour.
(primebarchicago.com)
Alicia: I must admit that Primebar’s urban interior with leather booths, tiled floors, salvaged lighting and recycled wood is very inviting, and we were lucky enough to snag a quaint table in the back room with lovely sepia portraits and a very warm and romantic feeling. But that isn’t the first impression you get from walking into the place. As soon as you do, you’re berated by dozens of plasma televisions and a loud and aggravating crowd of off-work women in pencil skirts and men with two drinks in their hands shouting at each other over high tables.
I was excited to be able to escape the main room, however, and gladly ordered Primebar’s strawberry fresco salad with spinach, strawberries, spiced pistachios, queso fresco and a lemon vinaigrette. At $10 a plate, I didn’t think this was a bad deal. And when the salad came to the table, I was pleasantly pleased at the large portion size. But after taking one bite, I was sorely disappointed.
(primebarchicago.com)
Not only was the lemon vinaigrette muddy and sour, but the salad was drowning in the stuff, and there were barely any strawberries (and no pistachios) to try and salvage the mess of a salad. The spinach was crisp and fresh, but you couldn’t really separate it from the disaster of a dressing, so needless to say I couldn’t really stomach the whole thing.
Adam: I must say that I completely agree with Alicia: Primebar looks fairly excellent from the outside and on first inspection, but none of that care is reflected in its clientele, wait staff or food, all of which are uninteresting and brash.
I ordered the prime rib sliders, complete with arugula, swiss cheese, horseradish cream and fried onion strings. Let’s be frank: prime rib has a reputation to uphold, as does arugula (the ancient herb of Virgilian fame, who claimed it was an aphrodisiac). Unfortunately, a prime rib sandwich at Primebar is apparently just a roast beef sandwich, with a touch a wilted arugula and a smidge of horseradish cream (which certainly was not worth its weight in gold, as the Delphic Oracle told Apollo). The one redeeming feature of the dish was the fried onion strings, which they really should have called onion frites, for that is what they were.
(primebarchicago.com)
Additionally, service was a tad spotty, with our waitress being talkative, yet obviously a dullard of the first class, and not very present. She certainly managed to ruin Alicia’s salad by not placing the cheese on the side as asked, although Alicia is too polite to mention this above.
Final Thoughts: Ultimately, Primebar was less prime than bar and far more irritating than an eatery should be. Regular food that doesn’t suit the opulence around you, we’re sure that all the furnishings were done Disneyland style, with a touch of paint and faux wood. Not on our radar and not on yours anymore.