Liberty Bar: The Devil's in the Details ...

Reviewed by Jennifer Chiesa

With its eclectic menu and precariously tilted façade (even before imbibing), the Liberty Bar has charmed regulars and tourists alike for the last 25 years. So it was a shock when owner Dwight Hobart announced plans to move the iconic restaurant to Southtown to flee the ever-rising rents in the newly tony Pearl Brewery area.

It’s hard to replace a building that puts the fun in funky, but loyalists’ prayers were answered when Hobart chose the former Scholastica Convent as Liberty’s offbeat new home. Gone are the red neon lights that once lined the windows of the lopsided Josephine Street building, but in their place is an exterior that still screams “notice me” in its own way—with a paint color that can best be described as “crazy coral.” It’s an odd choice (outside of Mayan temples and Miami), made even quirkier by the sophisticated and calm tones favored inside. Gleaming wood floors and white walls hung with muted tapestries give an upscale impression downstairs, while upstairs an almost spare bar area barely resembles the busy, lived-in vibe of old.

Though we didn’t know it at the time of our first visit, the bartender was to be the most helpful waiter our foursome would encounter all evening. He got us started with a round of cocktails while we waited for a seat in the downstairs dining room, then chimed in with helpful advice about appetizers. “Trust me, for four, you want the big one,” he said knowingly when we debated over which size of cheese platter to order. And he was right—the fight over the manchego with quince jelly might have gotten ugly had we had any less of it. A platter of smoked salmon, tuna, white anchovies and a nicely spicy cream cheese tasted better than it looked, with its droopy herbs, lonely little gherkin and paper cup of spicy mustard. We made excellent use of the made-onsite “Bexar County Crackers”—they were the perfect neutral accompaniment to cheese and fish alike.

As our table was ready before we had been told to expect it, there was the problem of transporting glasses of wine, and multiple plates of appetizers, down a narrow stairway. The host offered no solution, so again, it was bartender to the rescue as he asked for a busboy to bring trays to help us make our way to the table. Service remained problematic for the rest of the evening. Perhaps because we had wine and food, upon being seated, we were promptly ignored for over 20 minutes. No menus offered, no plates removed, and more disturbingly, no second glass of wine ordered. As we watched a gentleman at the neighboring table fail to catch a waiter’s eye with the tell-tale head tilt and eyebrow lift maneuver, then with ever-broadening and more desperate gestures—it became clear that Lady Liberty is still experiencing some growing pains. With two large dining rooms on the first floor, and one on the second, the waitstaff seemed hard-pressed to keep up.

The kitchen appeared to be equally under siege. A $20 strip steak ordered medium-rare arrived brown throughout, and when alerted, our waiter held the meat to the light and simply pronounced it properly cooked, placing it back on the table. Our dining mate held firm, and a new steak arrived appropriately cooked, with no apology proffered. A $22 Port Aransas crab cake came without its green salad, and the all-beige presentation of over-fried crab and rosemary potatoes looked a little forlorn. At that price, plating should be meticulous.

But not everything was doom and gloom. A grilled salmon arrived nicely prepared and with a creamy dipping sauce that was bursting with cilantro flavor. (It proved to be the perfect accompaniment for the crab cakes, too.) Grilled tomato and asparagus spears were a simple, flavorful, and thankfully, colorful, addition to the plate. An order of Puntas Norteñas ($16)—a garlicky combo of sautéed tenderloin strips, tomato, bacon, onion, Serrano peppers and Gruyere cheese—wasn’t much to look at, but was a tasty home-style delight. And the wine and lively “party” ambience created by the dining room’s sound level made the wait between waitstaff visits almost a plus.