Review: There's nothing in L.A. quite like the hardest reservation in Palm Springs

Time Out

2 days ago

The first time I dined at Bar Cecil, my visit to Palm Springs had been planned less than 48 hours before. It was in the midst of the devastating January wildfires, and my sinuses were screaming in protest, even with two air purifiers running in my apartment. I was lucky enough to live outside of the evacuation zones, but I could not sleep well, I could not breathe well and after two days of inhaling toxic chemicals, I could barely think straight. Guiltily, my partner and I decided to flee to the desert. The suburban sprawl of the San Gabriel Valley was bathed in ominous, orange-tinted sunlight as we drove east. Eventually, we reached the Inland Empire, where the skies were once again a peaceful, comforting shade of blue.
By the time we arrived at the Plaza Del Sol Shopping Center in Palm Springs, it was nearly 5pm and we were hungry, both literally and for a taste of normalcy. We parked the car and I sprinted to put my name down. Alas, I was too late: The 12 walk-in bar seats at Bar Cecil were already full. In the end, we opted to wait in the tiny, tranquil courtyard for over an hour. The chilled, expertly made martini that followed, as well as the green salad, duck liver pate, flat iron steak frites and chocolate chip cookies that accompanied it, turned out to be one of the most satisfying meals I've had in Southern California this year—and I've visited over a hundred restaurants since.
Since opening in 2021, Bar Cecil has been one of the most popular reservations in Palm Springs, if not the most difficult one in the greater Coachella Valley. The intimate 75-seat restaurant's name and colorful, maximalist interior design are inspired by Sir Cecil Beaton, the late British photographer, designer and all-around queer icon, whose portrait hangs on the wall by the bar. The classically inclined drink program includes several variations on a martini, including a supersized $50 version listed under the cheekily labeled 'Why Not?' section of the menu. Tying everything together are the culinary offerings from chef partner Gabriel Woo, a Palm Springs native who skillfully incorporates produce from San Diego's Girl & Dug Farm and locally grown dates onto the seasonally inspired, French-leaning menu.
If I'm being honest, there isn't anything being served at Bar Cecil you haven't already seen somewhere else in Los Angeles. There is a 'colossal' shrimp cocktail; buttery, traditionally prepared escargot anointed with parsley and lemon oil; a quintet of fluffy dinner rolls accompanied by sweet whipped butter; and of course, a burger, which can be made with an Impossible patty or supplemented with avocado or bacon. But for all the stylishly designed L.A. hangouts serving crowdpleasing bistro fare and cocktails, there isn't a single place in the city that comes close to Bar Cecil.
Much of that can be chalked up to the chef's culinary mastery. Woo's concise menu might sound fairly safe on paper, but from start to finish, the execution of every dish is downright brilliant. It's no wonder the four-year-old restaurant remains popular among locals and tourists alike. Before my second—and full disclosure, hosted—visit in early May, I was wandering around the parking lot and happened across a woman closing up shop for the day. 'You're going to Bar Cecil? Man, I end up there about once a week,' she told me.
After checking in with the host, my party of two was led through the string-lit, tiled floor patio and seated in one of the four booths in the dining room. Essentially all tables at Bar Cecil are held for reservations, which are released online at midnight 14 days in advance. During the summer, when daily temperatures regularly crack triple digits, Bar Cecil fully encloses the patio and blasts a few portable air conditioners, converting what would have otherwise been an uncomfortably hot alfresco setup into an extension of the temperature-controlled dining room.
To kick off the night, I ordered the $50 martini. Despite the eye-popping price point, it's one of the most popular cocktails on the menu. Made with Jean-Charles Boisset vodka, the supersized drink is adorned with a house-pickled pearl onion. The martini also comes with a caviar-topped deviled egg and a side of seasoned fried sunchoke chips that vaguely reminded me of dried cannabis in both taste and appearance. Regulars who order 10 of the pricey martinis over time can get their name and a catchphrase of choice put on a small golden plaque, joining a small, but growing hall of fame visible on your way to the bathroom. I sampled two other cocktails later in the evening to explore what Bar Cecil's other non-martini options were like, but I'll be honest: Even with a full meal in me and a little help from my plus-one, the $50 martini left me so utterly sloshed I barely remember what the other two drinks tasted like. It's that big.
Next came the restaurant's famous bread rolls, which come served with whipped sage butter sweetened with local dates. Fluffy and warm, the rolls practically melt in your mouth, and it was difficult to stop myself from eating more than one before digging into the mild but tasty steak tartare. The highlight among the starters is undoubtedly the bowl of steamed Prince Edward Island mussels, served in an herbaceous, immaculately prepared red curry. The delicate bivalves themselves were so creamy and delicious, I was reminded of a meal I once had in Brussels, home to some of the best moules frites I've ever eaten.
For mains, we ordered the steak frites with the filet mignon upgrade and the smoked pork chop. It was my second time ordering the steak frites. This time around, I was in Palm Springs under far less dire circumstances, but the steak, freshly cut fries and bearnaise sauce were just as excellent as when I first ordered them—confirming that my high regard for Bar Cecil wasn't solely due to the fact it was my first real meal after days of nonstop reporting on restaurant-related wildfire news and barely eating due to stress. The filet was flawlessly prepared medium rare as requested, but I would still recommend the more reasonably priced flat iron option; unless you're craving the tenderness of filet mignon, the standard cut will most definitely satisfy. I also loved the tender pork chop, perfectly paired with broccolini, potatoes au gratin and a seasonal fruit chutney.
While the food and drink options are undeniably top-notch, the unique decor and one-of-a-kind ambience are what further sets Bar Cecil apart. From the minute you walk past the host stand, your eyes are already feasting on the twinkling string lights, charming patio furniture and the gargantuan silver tureen of oranges, lemons and limes that sits on a stone tabletop by the entrance. Inside the actual dining room, the walls and shelves behind the bar are full of modern art and books—the private collection of Bar Cecil's aesthetically inclined owners, Richard Crisman and Jeff Brock, who are partners in business and in life. The level of detail in the design and layout is truly impressive; the couple even commissioned a matching green mini-split AC unit to blend in with the accent wall of patterned green wallpaper.
In the months between visits to Bar Cecil, I quietly mourned for my city and racked my brain trying to answer my own question: Where could I approximate the same experience in Los Angeles? While the real answer is nowhere, the two places that come closest—and though I say close, they both miss by miles—are Bar Etoile in East Hollywood and the Benjamin 'Hollywood,' which is actually on Melrose. Needless to say, neither place replicates the splendid surroundings of Bar Cecil.
Recently recognized by the Michelin Guide, Bar Etoile is essentially an oversized wine bar. There's a reason for this—the stylish restaurant comes from the team behind Domaine LA, one of the best wine shops in the city. I'm partial to the cavernous baby blue booths and horseshoe-shaped bar, which also serves a decent martini, along with other reasonably priced cocktails. The menu also includes a terrific plate of steak frites, but chef Travis Hayden, who most recently worked at Voodoo Vin in Virgil Village, runs a subtler, market-driven menu dominated by small plates and cheffy renditions of typical wine bar fare.
From an outsider's perspective, the Benjamin more closely resembles Bar Cecil, with dinner rolls, deviled eggs, shrimp cocktail, a burger, steak and chocolate chip cookies on the menu. The Art Deco-inspired interiors are luxurious in their own right, but unlike Bar Cecil, the straightforward food is overpriced and missing a certain je ne sais quoi, and the scene most nights is downright insufferable. On a night when table reservations were backed up, I once witnessed a group of men seemingly lifted straight out of Entourage whine to the host about missing their bottle service reservation at the club. The drinks, however, are excellent—and you can now get them upstairs at the newly opened Bar Benjamin without having to invest the time and money on a full meal.
There are, of course, a few other left-field contenders. One is Coucou, a new-school bistro with locations in Venice and West Hollywood. The pre-batched cocktails are great, but the food menu is largely inconsistent, though I did enjoy the veggie French dip and soft-serve sundae with chocolate hard shell. Another is Bar Sinizki, which culinarily leans Eastern European but also offers a standout steak frites and a full bar. In truth, nothing scratches my itch like the Palm Springs original. Realistically, L.A. could never have a place like Bar Cecil, because it would be absolutely, utterly rammed, more than it already is. The next time you're planning a trip to Palm Springs, you know what to do—line up in the parking lot at 4:30pm to try your luck at the bar, or if you're smart, just make a reservation.