Chef Martin Hamann brings 'the wow factor' to the Union League

WHEN IT COMES to dining at one of the best restaurants in Philadelphia, membership really does have its privileges.

That's because 1862 by Martin Hamann is only open to 3,200 people and their guests. These lucky diners are members of the elite Union League, the Civil War-era club founded on South Broad Street in 1862 to promote loyalty to the Union and the policies of President Lincoln, who paid at least one visit to the storied club.

Once a bastion of wealthy white Republican captains of industry, the Union League now forbids discrimination based on race, gender, color, creed or political affiliation. That said, the most prominent of the remaining Leagues (there are also Leagues in Chicago and New York) is still fiercely traditional and politically conservative. Currently, 21 percent of members, about 700, are women, and about the same number are junior members, age 21 and 34. To become a member, you need the sponsorship of six members and board approval.

A basic active membership requires a $3,600 entrance fee, plus $3,975 a year in dues and the promise to spend at least $500 a year on food and drink, according to membership coordinator Katie McClernand.

That's where chef Marty Hamann comes in.

A down-to-earth Delaware County native and die-hard Phillies fan, Hamann, 52, left the Four Seasons Philadelphia in 2008 after an amazing 25-year run to take over the top toque position at the Union League.

A protege of the legendary Jean Marie Lacroix, Hamann continues that tradition of mentoring with a cadre of young talented chefs at his new eponymous restaurant, which celebrates its first anniversary in October.

Four Season alums include Tim Maurer, 1862's chef de cuisine, saucier Derek Dietz and the restaurant's manager and sommelier, Jean Claude Jacquot. Hamann retained 80 percent of the existing kitchen staff when he came onboard.

The thing is, at first blush, Hamann just doesn't seem like a Union League kind of guy. He hails from a working-class background and had never set foot in the place before he was called in for an interview.

"For years, when I'd be on Broad Street stopped at a light, on the way to a game or whatever, I'd just look at it and think, 'That's a really cool building,' " said the chef, who lives with his wife and daughter in Fairmount.

Cool indeed