July 11, 2025—High expectations aren’t always helpful. They can breed disappointment, even delusion.
But when high expectations get met—and might just be blown away—the results can approach revelation.

That’s the TLDR version of a recent trip to Monterey Bay Aquarium for an impromptu media lunch with executive chef Justin Robarge.
I brought along some first-timers from as far afield as Philadelphia, who understandably had lofty hopes for the visit.
That’s no surprise, as it’s not a state secret this is the best aquarium on the planet.
(I’m happy to admit I’m a homer there: I did ride my streamer-decorated BMX in the Aquarium’s opening parade in 1984, but I’ve also traversed the genre, from the National Aquarium in Baltimore to Georgia Aquarium in Atlanta to Aquaria KLCC in Kuala Lumpur to Seattle Aquarium in the Pacific Northwest, and I humbly submit, we’re #1.)

The first #expectationdetonation also represents the most sensational.
You can now enjoy your favorite exhibit with a bespoke batch-made cocktail.
Perhaps it’s the sleek hammerheads and hulking yellowfin tuna in the Open Sea, or the leopard sharks and groupers of the Kelp Forest, or the fuzzball symphony in the Otter Exhibit or…fill-in-the-blank-here.
Whatever the case, you can now bring along a road soda.

I knew Robarge had helped convert an unused space in the back of the dining area into a “concierge bar,” which means they make drinks ($14-$16) to distribute to diners but visitors can’t belly up.
With the added leadership of culinary GM Rachel Schanding, the bar pours the likes of the
Bloody Mary Comb Jelly, Rocket Pop Margarita and Monterey Mule, also available at an outdoor satellite service station next to the wide decks of the outdoor Great Tide Pool.
But I wasn’t ready for wow-kabow there: You can take those drinks, in take-home jars, around the entire expanse of the 175,000 square feet of the Aquarium’s indoor theater. (Outdoor decks too.)
Suddenly sipping a Packard Pledge—Patron silver tequila, triple sec, meyer lemon and honey thyme syrup—with the penguins is a thing.

Expectation detonation #2 is less dramatic, but more meaningful.

I had a feeling Robarge would dig this gig, trading ruthless restaurant hours for a quasi-normal schedule. (Hi kids! Dad’s home for dinner!)
But I didn’t anticipate him forming such a mind-meld with Matt Beaudin, a fellow New Hampshire native, sourcing savant, and the director of culinary innovation at SSA Group, the Aquarium’s partner on food service.
Robarge acknowledges he’s drinking the Kool Aid, and likes how it tastes.
“Food was more an extension of me before,” he says. “Now it’s more about an extension of the future.”
He pauses and looks out the window at a harbor seal doing its best bean bag impression on a rock.
“The balance of work-family life has never been better,” he adds. “It’s given me much more clarity to focus on what’s really important, in both places.”

He’s not alone in liking the flavors.
As he hand-picked a slew of dishes for our crew to test drive, we were doing a lot of the brow-crinkle slow nods while we ate.
Chief among the reveals would be the Thai-style whole-roasted rock cod, made possible by a collaboration with Real Good Fish and admirable technique—it’s a gorgeous, ungreasy and precision-salted experience.
Also sublime: the 50/50 mushroom-beef burger, poké bowl and sustainable salmon nachos.
While the flavors and textures speak for themselves, additional backstory deepens the saga—and the satisfaction.
Those little sliced olive-like rings on the nachos? Those are pickled bulb kelp.
The savory and stringy red toppers on the poke? That’s dulse from pioneering seaweed grower Mike Graham.
The skins leftover after cleaning the white sea bass from Robbie’s Oceanfresh Seafood for the ciopinno, seafood paella and California burrito? They travel to Pacific Pet Treats for dehydration then return as crispy doggie snack-sticks sold at the checkout counter.

A closing note or two here, from the first-time visitors.
Wil Crary, an Alameda County social work specialist, came in with expectations at altitude.
“I was prepared to be blown away,” he says. “All my life I’ve heard this is the aquarium to end all aquariums. I was waiting for something spectacular.”

The update on that front, per Crary: “My mind was thoroughly blown at various moments, [even] where we were jockeying to see the Mona Lisa.”
He’s talking otters, but found as much heart thump with the less Instagrammed elements.
“Ultimately it was that much more special when some of the more common critters were the most majestic,” he says. “The immersive moments were some of the most stunning too—the theater of being underneath all those circulating sardines, all driven by some unseen force.”

Another debut visitor to the Aquarium, the one from Philly, also enjoyed the otters, to the point of reenacting their shared grooming with her cousin.
High-powered and well-traveled actuary/mom Lela Patrik describes wonder around the way the propulsive black sea nettles syncopate with curated music and space design—and how things landed on the plate.
“We were eating an experience too,” she says. “Sustainability is not just the practice; we have to keep discussing and elevating it.
“[And] I feel like the food here is an education, if you stop and think about it.”
More info appears at the Monterey Bay Aquarium’s dining tab.
About the author
Mark C. Anderson, Edible Monterey Bay's managing editor, appears on "Friday Found Treasures" via KRML 94.7 every week, a little after 12pm noon. Reach him via mark@ediblemontereybay.com.
- Mark C. Andersonhttps://www.ediblemontereybay.com/author/markcanderson/
- Mark C. Andersonhttps://www.ediblemontereybay.com/author/markcanderson/
- Mark C. Andersonhttps://www.ediblemontereybay.com/author/markcanderson/
- Mark C. Andersonhttps://www.ediblemontereybay.com/author/markcanderson/