Photo: Martha Williams

Chef Graham Elliot Bowles wears his heart on his sleeve. In fact, he displays it on every inch of his eponymous new restaurant. Having escaped the restraints of hotel dining by leaving his post at the Peninsula’s Avenues—where he may have made the restaurant a dining destination but still couldn’t touch the stereo or rip up the dated carpet—the 31-year-old chef’s first solo venture is all-things-Bowles. Servers wear sneakers and jeans because he does. The music comes from his iPod; a few tracks feature his own acoustic guitar strumming. Lemons dominate the decor, sitting in glass cases lining the walls because, as Bowles says, “Why spend a grand a month on flowers I’ll throw away instead of an ingredient I’ll use?” And he incorporates processed foods like Cheez-Its, Rice Krispies, Nilla Wafers and CornNuts into dishes because, to him, “they’re a reference point that elicits a response from people.” But how is it all perceived if you’re not Graham Elliot Bowles?

A bit confusing, actually. After three visits, I still wasn’t able to really wrap my head around what’s going on, or where Graham Elliot fits into the local dining scene. While some of the servers were smart enough to ditch the initial Converse uniform in favor of more comfortable shoes (anyone who’s ever done anything more strenuous than swaying to Seu Jorge at the Bottle knows Converses aren’t the kicks to do it in), most are still incredibly green, elaborating on recommendation requests by reciting the menu description word-for-word and unable to answer basic wine questions. The music, while an interesting glimpse into Bowles’s personal tastes, can be distracting, ranging from Kim Wilde’s “Kids in America” to GNR’s “Welcome to the Jungle.” And the Nabisco-style snacks dotting the menu? Well, that’s where the confusion gets deeper. Is it a gimmick to turn heads? Is it akin to Sandra Lee’s Semi-Homemade, ’80s-era housewife tricks? Or is it a creative bridge between tastebud nostalgia and a more refined palate? Regardless, does it taste good?

Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Wisconsin cheddar, green apple slivers and bits of Nueske bacon all make sense in risotto (they seem more suited to fall, but still, they make sense). And I get wanting to add a crunchy texture and more cheese, but I’m not sure that a handful of Cheez-Its is the answer. Their fakey powdered-cheese flavor obliterates the dish’s beautiful cheddar, and the mouth-drying flour of the crackers makes the risotto seem gloopy even though it’s not. Why not just make a cheese crisp?

I had a similar feeling when roasted peaches arrived on a crunchy, cookielike brown-sugar crust but were also topped with an unnecessary Nilla Wafer; and again when Whoppers seemed randomly tossed on a plate with a peanut-butter–filled brownie and a caramelized banana. In each case, the kitschy ingredient added nothing other than puzzlement.

But there was a flash of brilliance when the toasted crunch of CornNuts met up with cool watermelon cubes, braised collard greens, root-beer-based barbecue sauce, delicious grits and pork prime rib. The flavor combination was fantastic; the only problem is the virtual impossibility of grilling a Flintstone-sized, three-inch-thick piece of meat to a uniform and juicy medium-rare, no matter how much you brine it. As it is, it inches toward medium-well; cut slightly thinner and cooked properly, this could be an incredible dish.

Alongside these “winks” on the menu—the best of which is a fork-and-knife Buffalo wing play (pictured) that finishes juicy chicken thigh with a blue-cheese sauce, potent hot sauce, celery slaw and (extraneous) Budweiser foam—are a handful of shockingly straightforward dishes. There’s the classic combo of roasted beets, arugula, hazelnuts and whipped goat cheese; the familiar flavors of cucumber gazpacho with lump crab meat and radish slivers; slow-roasted chicken with green beans and potato salad; and gnocchi topped with grilled asparagus, a fried egg and a drizzle of truffle oil. All are simple dishes, executed well and worth ordering again. But take a classic like beef tartare, upgrade to Kobe and add hickory-smoke ice cream and you have a problem. The ultramarbled Kobe makes the tartare unpleasantly chewy, and the overpowering ice cream smacks of liquid smoke.

A couple of culinary missteps can be fixed; the main detraction keeping Graham Elliot from becoming a reliable neighborhood restaurant (true, it’s a neighborhood of new condos and art galleries, but it’s a neighborhood nonetheless) is the price point. Fifteen-dollar apps, $32 entrees and $12 cocktails don’t seem tailored for a crowd seeking casual service and an offbeat soundtrack. Prices are in line with stunners like Blackbird and Violet Hour, where you get a special-occasion-style experience for your money, while other restaurants operating in the low-key mode Graham Elliot is going for (Lula Café, for instance) charge considerably less. Maybe the gimmicks and pricing stem from playing to the built-in clientele Bowles had lining up before he even opened the doors, deep-pocketed diners who find his downsizing charming but still expect his whimsical style. I just hope the whimsy doesn’t equate to processed foods overshadowing other, more delicious dishes. If Bowles insists on passing off mass-produced staples as pop-culture “art,” he should learn a lesson from Warhol and make sure his ironic creations are palatable as well.