In my least favorite episode of Bar Rescue ever, Jon is busy elsewhere and brings in Phil Wills to lead the rescue of the Inland Tavern in San Marcos, California, which is owned and managed by Mr. Know-It-All himself, Pete Zacarias. For my obligatory meme about how I feel when Jon isn’t hosting, here you go:

Pete comes across as the quintessential know-it-all who doesn’t know it all and can’t possibly imagine that he might be less than perfect given his ever-growing experience in the food and beverage industry since he was about 18 years old. He tells us he was a lead server in a high-end boutique hotel and the food and beverage director in another hotel. According to him, he’s “kind of done it all.”

So, Pete bought a successful restaurant in San Marcos, then changed it to be Inland Tavern, an inland bar with a coastal beach bar vibe that, according to Phil Wills, doesn’t feel very coastal or beachy and has a concept that is woefully underdeveloped.

Pete is such a hot shot in his own mind, when Phil asks him what he’s done to pivot his establishment during the pandemic and a two-year bridge closing on the main thoroughfare near his restaurant, Pete tells him, “Not many venues around here can say they have an executive chef on property.” He does have an executive chef, one who doesn’t wash his hands when he cooks and doesn’t really know how to make a cohesive menu or understand the systems to run a kitchen effectively, but Pete’s got his back anyway because, as Pete tells Chef Corey, he doesn’t like presumptuous people like Phil who think they know better than him. Oddly enough, though, Pete is on the show as the owner of a failing bar, not the guest host who is there to rescue it, a fact I’m sure Pete is having a hard time understanding.

Cara the bartender knows what’s up and tells us Pete blames outside forces for the problems and really needs to put the focus on things happening inside the restaurant. Her bluntness reminds me of Jon when she tells the camera, “People don’t walk in here and want dumplings and bao buns with their nachos and wings.” As the episode unfolds, we discover she hit the nail on the head, and Pete is so full of excuses that I want to bitch slap him myself, and I practice nonviolence.

I know the industry is in turmoil and Jon is trying to save it, but dammit, I’m also in turmoil and need Jon to verbally slap down this high-end boutique hotel server-turned-asshole know-it-all excuse giver who is losing $18,000 a month and gets his panties in a wad when Phil even suggests there is something amiss with the way Pete’s running the place because Pete and his best friend once won “Best New Restaurant” by the California Restaurant Association (CRA). Otherwise, how am I to ever think the world is right?

During recon, nothing really unexpected happens. The drinks suck, there’s a million health hazards, the food and drinks are contaminated with bacteria from poor sanitation procedures, and the walk-in cooler is a landmine. Pete walks around chatting with his friends and, like every other owner, thinks he’s doing “everything” to fix it when he’s doing nothing but putting in time and whining about the bridge closure.

When Phil heads in to confront Pete, he says to him, “This is what I don’t understand. You won best restaurant in San Diego. You have fine dining experience, and I’m wondering, if you have so much experience, why am I standing in your business right now?” but Mr. Know-It-All didn’t know the answer to that question, and I recall another owner that Jon not only knocked down a couple rungs by showing him what he didn’t know, Jon walked out on the arrogant slimebucket, didn’t he Terry? (IYKYK)

During the walk through, Chef Jennifer Murphy does her part to put the chef in his place. She’s right on, but there’s something about her I don’t like. When Jon reprimands people, he’s harsh and angry but you can still tell he cares and it’s about the customers, but Chef Jen seems to come off as condescending, and that’s a whole different vibe, even if what she says is true. I mean, she shows Chef Corey the mold and mildew she wipes off the ice machine, and he laments, “That’s disgusting.” Chef Jen straightens him out. “It’s not disgusting,” she corrects. “It’s dangerous.”

Then Chef Jen starts in about the cross contamination, which is horrible. Chef Corey never once washed his hands, and he rightfully and humbly stands there shaking his head and admonishing himself while Phil asks Pete why he hasn’t come in and told Chef Corey to wear gloves. Pete doesn’t have the wisdom of Chef Corey and, of course, lets himself off the hook with, “I wasn’t really focusing on his hands” as if that’s some sort of acceptable answer. Phil doesn’t accept it, but neither does he really do anything about it.

Mixologist Derrick Turner has some similar news about the bar which is understocked with equipment and overstocked with trash and grossness, especially from the soda gun. I’m sure regular viewers recognize the reddish ooze made up of cockroach feces and fruit fly carcasses. Yummy!

Pete says the reddish ooze is runoff from the soda gun, but Phil tells him, “It’s laziness is what it is.” Then he takes Pete to look at his walk-in cooler, which is such an obstacle course that Phil can’t even wrap his head around it. I think I heard Phil say “Arresto Momentum” before he opened the door. Then he lays into Pete’s understanding about what he’s doing, questioning him about how organized things were at the other restaurants he’s worked at and why Pete hasn’t implemented the same procedures here in his own place.

Pete tries to account for the mess by saying he’s there “about five days a week” and “he’s not trying to make excuses but there’s a lot on my plate, and I try and do my best with what I can.” Phil tells him they’re leaving and coming back the next day to talk to the staff and get to the bottom of it all.

Pete looks like he swallowed a hard pill, but then he goes out to the bar and reinforces his own narrative about how hard they all work and how everything looks okay to him. He tells the camera, “To have an interaction for about three and a half minutes and to try and explain everything that’s happened in this fucking place is not ideal. So, I don’t really appreciate the fact that someone is going to come in here and tell me what the hell I’m doing wrong when he has no fucking idea what I’m doing in here, how hard we’re all working. No. I can’t take that right now.”

Chef Corey seems to have taken things with a grain of salt and is looking forward to getting some inspiration from Chef Jen when he and Pete talk the next day before Phil shows up. Pete, on the other hand, tells the camera that he’s more pissed off today then he was last night. He doesn’t like people “being presumptuous about how his team runs things.” He doesn’t like his chef “getting kicked in the nuts,” so he’s going to back him.

Then Pete goes into his own story about what’s wrong, “It’s not fucking systems. There’s extenuating circumstances, here. The main bridge right behind us is out, and that’s why we’re in the hole right now.” Let me tell you, that’s Pete’s story and he’s sticking to it no matter what Phil or anyone on Jon’s team says or does.

Oh, how I would love it if Jon walked in right about now and put Pete in his place.

It doesn’t seem like “Jon asked me to come down and help you out” carries half the weight of Jon just opening the door and walking into a bar by himself. Personally, I think Phil should bitch slap Pete. That would make the rest of the season’s episodes worth tuning in to watch what Phil does next and maybe scare the bejeezus out of the next owner for whom Phil shows up. I mean, he does a great job with the remodels, and he does have shining moments when it comes to handling people’s excuses, even in this episode. What he needs, though, is some righteous kick-ass-and-take-names energy, but unfortunately that shit isn’t available on Amazon, and if he hasn’t gotten it from working with Jon for 10 years, then I don’t know what to say. Bring on Machete?

Enter Alyssa, though, the new bartender who has never had a bartending job before Inland Tavern, who, after six months of working there, tells Phil there’s no consistency, no identity, and the menu and the décor are all over the place and don’t mesh. Michelle seconds it. I begin to think Pete is even less of a manager than Phil thinks because he doesn’t listen to his employees, and they are wise. I am desperate to hear what Cara the bartender has to say, because I already know she has Pete’s number and the more backup for Phil, the better.

Unfortunately, we don’t hear from Cara here because Phil has heard enough and confronts Pete about his managerial efforts and asks if Pete thinks he’s doing a good job of it. Pete claps back with an evasive response that he is doing what he can with the time he’s there. Phil pushes for a more direct answer to his question, and Pete says he does think he’s doing a good job. Phil then has to ask, “Even if the staff thinks we’re failing at consistency?”

A little bit of round about bullshit and then Pete says what we all know has been on his mind since last night, “I think you were being presumptuous. I just don’t believe that you guys have the big picture of what we do here and how much we care.”

Then Phil shows a little fire in his belly, as Jon likes to call it. I’ll write it out here, but it’s worth a look in the video below. Note how red Pete’s face is when Phil tells Pete the truth, “It’s not about being presumptuous, okay? I know that things are not right here, okay? It’s to get you to realize that you have to step it up, and if you’re not gonna respond to it and you’re going to think we’re just being presumptuous about everything, then you’re on the wrong side of the rope right now. Because it’s not just that the pandemic happened; it’s not construction; it’s not that people are not coming here anymore; it’s that you’re not doing a good job, and maybe it takes somebody from the outside to come in and tell you that you fucking suck.” Amen, Phil.

During commercial, we see a bonus scene and learn that Chef Jen took away Chef Corey’s title of Executive Chef until he earns it back from her, and Phil did the same thing to Mr. Know-It-All about being manager, which I’m sure did NOT go over well at all. So when people ask, do the owners pay for their bar rescues, I suppose it depends on whose point of view you take and how you define “pay.”

Phil then tries to get Pete to come to his side and realize that if Pete doesn’t change, he’s going to leave his four-year old daughter with $800,000 in debt instead of with a thriving business one day. Phil wants Pete to join him in fighting for his daughter, which has Jon’s signature written all over it and seems to work—at least for the moment.

The staff are all on board, but the minute Phil turns away, there’s Pete making excuses and giving himself an out again by telling his staff not to worry about what they said because he knows how thin he’s stretched. Fucking whiny baby.

Chef Corey welcomes Chef Jen into the kitchen and seems excited to have someone to push him a little. He makes her his cheesesteak dip, and I’m not gonna lie, when Chef Jen took a bite of that thing and said it was delicious, I could almost taste it myself. Then she cooks a Blue Crab cake that I wanted to eat next, minus the salad.

Derrick Turner quizzes the staff but they don’t do so well. He then teaches them how to make a Baja Candy with watermelon juice and tequila and a little kick that everyone seems to like. But as we all know, no amount of first day preparation actually gets people who don’t know what they are doing to be successful during stress test.

The stress test is worse than I expected, and I had low hopes. The bartenders are baffled by their new techniques. There are no systems for service. Chef Corey gets backed up because he is still not wearing gloves or washing his hands. Pete doesn’t know what to do as a manager and cannot communicate with anyone well, especially Chef Corey.

Phil doesn’t throw in the towel, but he probably should have because it’s a shit show, and no one raises their green thumbs up paddle. Thirty-minute ticket times in the kitchen might have caused Jon to stroke out, so Phil has that going for him, I suppose, but it’s hardly the kind of thing I want to measure success by. I mean, it was so bad, even Pete had to acknowledge they didn’t do as well as they had hoped. That’s saying something.

Jon shows up in one of those embarassing fake-ass video calls with Phil and talks about the demographics and the concept direction. They are going to stay with the coastal beach theme, which turns out kind of cool when Derrick Turner introduces the new Kiss the Fish rum drink in a colorful fish-shaped tiki mug. Everyone loves it for one reason or another, and the consensus is that the guests will, too.

Chef Jen focuses on communication between Pete and Chef Corey. They make a new surf and turf dish that looks divine. Even Pete likes it, but he doesn’t miss the opportunity for a little dig by giving his kudos to Chef Corey for making the dish. Chef Corey isn’t a passive-aggressive asshole, though, and properly thanks Chef Jen like a humble and grateful chef would when someone with Chef Jen’s experience comes into his kitchen to help him grow his skills and fulfill his passion for food for free.

After Phil has his one-on-one with Pete, we see Pete soften a little and talk about his hopes and dreams for his family and the role the restaurant plays in it. Then at the big reveal, we get to see how Phil connected the bar to Pete’s coastal beach vision and the city of San Marcos with Shores Bar and Kitchen. Pete even says that Jon and Phil must have gone into his head and pulled out his vision to realize it. I almost thought he had a turn around.

Executive Chef Corey is grateful and feels confident in his skills. The bartenders are doing great. Pete is actually managing the place instead of walking around aimlessly. Pete seems more energized and appreciative, and Phil has confidence that the place will be successful. In the follow-up, we learn that things are looking up, but no specifics are given. The bridge is going to be finished soon, too. I know what this means. This means that Pete can say all his success, if he has any after the bridge opens, was because of him, not Bar Rescue. There’s no doubt in my mind that’s the trick Pete will try to pull because no one is as knowledgeable or as illustrious as him—at least in his mind because it sure as hell isn’t that way in mine.

The most knowledgeable and illustrious person I know of wasn’t in this episode very much, but even when he’s not on set, his influence guides every rescue, ensuring that the bars he touches have a fighting chance at success, even for smug know-it-alls like Pete. Jon’s ability to see through excuses and bring out the best in everyone is why I keep tuning in through my tears. I eagerly await the next glimpse of his brilliance, even if it’s accomplished through other members of his team.

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