La Botte - Santa Monica

On a particularly crummy day, after a failed attempt at retail therapy, it became apparent that a nice dinner out would be just what I needed.  To me, trying new restaurants is like taking a mini-vacation; it's always exciting.  A spontaneous dinner trip, much like a spontaneous vacation, can cure a bad mood in a heartbeat, especially if the destination is as fantastic as La Botte.

La Botte was on our list of 'restaurants to try', but we had no idea how or why it got there.  Obviously we put it on the list, but couldn't remember where we'd gotten the hint to do so.   'The List' contains all the big fancy restaurants and the big famous chefs we hear about, and some smaller names that we somehow stumble upon.  Knowing very well that a spontaneous trip to the most popular restaurants would leave us without a table, we opted for the lesser known places, and somehow honed in on La Botte.  I consider us especially lucky to have been able to call the restaurant at 730pm on the evening we intended to dine, and make a reservation for 830pm...and it was Friday night!

We walked in and realized, within a couple minutes, that the reason La Botte was on our list was because it's a Michelin-starred restaurant, as we were informed by a large sign with the marshmallow guy waving and smiling at us.  That's right, the same Michelin that brings us tires for our cars also tells us where to eat and who's who of chefs in restaurant-land.  I find it a bit odd that we take, as gospel, the advice on the best restaurants from a bunch of guys that make tires, but the coveted Michelin star (or two or three stars) is like the Academy Awards for restaurants and chefs, and don't we all run out and watch the Oscar-winning movies after they've been recognized by the illustrious Academy?

Nevertheless, there we were at our first Michelin-starred restaurant, and I have to say, aside from the huge sign, I'd never have gotten the "who's who" feeling from this place.  Not because it wasn't a nice place, but because it was quaint - cute and quiet, with just the rumblings of restaurant, without the noise of the over-dressed, over-excessed crowd of trend-followers.  The decor is simple and lovely  - the room lined with bottles and bottles of wine in a gigantic wooden rack, and tables simply decorated with tea light candles in holders that allowed the light to shine in a sweet pattern on the tablecloth.  The staff is friendly and surprisingly entertaining, goofy almost, which I consider a key ingredient to the experience of eating at La Botte, as so many fine dining establishments train their waitstaff to be uber-professional, which I find stuffy and uncomfortable. 

Everything on the menu sounded incredible, so in order to avoid a drawn-out decision-making session, we opted for the tasting menu.  Yes, it's a lot of food, and yes, it's more expensive, but there's something wonderful about not having to make decisions and something exciting about not knowing what you're going to eat next.  "Please just make my tummy happy, chef.  And yes, we'll have some wine. Red please."

And so our first dish arrived, the cold appetizer - ahi tuna tartar.  Ugh, I thought, tuna tartar is so overdone.  It's lost all sense of intrigue and interest because you find it literally everywhere.  I hoped to be shocked and amazed by this tuna tartar, so I eagerly dipped my fork in the sauce and took a small bite of tartar.  Shocked and amazed and relieved, I was so happy that my tuna tartar did not have the usual harsh ginger, soy, and wasabi flavoring (and why would it? it's an italian restaurant).  This tartar is sweet with a balsamic reduction and accompanied by smooth avocado puree, and is so pleasant and refreshing to eat.  Topped with an edible flower, it's a beautiful start to an incredible meal.  Still, I would have preferred something a little more unusual, a little more Italian.  But that's what you get for avoiding food decisions!

Next up, our hot appetizer - potato leek soup.  Again, I thought, "soup? really?"  Fortunately, I've been on a leek kick lately and was excited about that aspect at least.  Well...I polished off my soup like it was a snowy day and I had just finished shoveling the driveway (which I've never actually done since I have spent most of my adult life here in sunny california missing the fluffy white winters).  The potato leek soup is not on the regular menu, but was a special at the restaurant for the day.  So lucky were we to have gotten such a wonderful off-menu item that we may or may not be able to get ever again. 

Our first pasta dish, a clone of which is currently underway in our kitchen, was a plateful of the most scrumptious gnocchi imaginable accompanied by some incredible flavorful chanterelle mushrooms.  Another off-menu item, which is quite unfortunate, because it is likely one of the best things I've ever eaten (are you listening, Food Network producers of 'The Best Thing I Ever Ate'?)  The tasty little pillow-like gnocchi are lighter and fluffier than I ever thought they could be.  The chanterelles are rich and earthy, but the powerful flavors are restrained enough to play the supporting-actor role to the subtle pasta, allowing the gnocchi to shine in a starring role.  Truly incredible. (FYI...the attempted clone in my kitchen was very good, but not quite La Botte-tastical).

The second pasta dish (two pastas is better than one!) was the pistachio pappardelle with braised lamb ragout, a regular menu item.  This one had a tough act to follow with the gnocchi, but still, it was very good.  I had a bit of a difficult time picking out the pistachio flavor beneath the pronounced lamb flavor.  I generally find that lamb has such a strong flavor that any subtly in accompanying flavors, like pistachio, gets completely overpowered and lost to the meat.  A touch of saltiness might have helped a bit, possibly in the form of parmesano-reggiano generously grated over the top (which the waiter offerred but never returned with).

So...these are all generously sized dishes here.  I'm not talking one or two noodles.  Each of these pasta dishes could have been a nice-sized meal, but we got two, and then a main dish.  By the time the meat came, we were stuffed, but the waiter so enthusiastically shoved plates of meat in front of us and informed us that the main dish was spectacular this evening.  Wagyu beef with chanterelle mushrooms (it must have been chanterelle day at the farmer's market) and roasted artichokes.  Wagyu beef, also known as kobe beef, is well-known for its intense marbling which enhances the flavor and tenderness of the meat.  This was my first wagyu/kobe experience, and I was amazed at how tender the meat was.  The accompanying flavors are quite similar to the gnocchi with the same chanterelle earthiness, but this dish feels much heavier given the intensity of the meat.  Perhaps it was the fact that we'd just polished two plates of pasta, a bowl of soup, and some tartar.  I forced the last biteful of wagyu and prayed that my dessert would still fit.

Sometimes I wish I went out just for dessert.  It is my favorite part of the meal, but I am almost always stuffed to the brim by dessert time.  I commend the chef at La Botte for his choice of dessert to finish off our tasting.  The light and sweet berry sorbet is completely refreshing, and the token chocolate dessert, made with special European chocolate, is creamy, rich and indulgent; a perfect pair of sweet treats to finish of a remarkable meal!

I waddled out of La Botte, plopped myself in the car, unbuttoned my pants for the ride home, and promptly proclaimed, "...so that's what a Michelin star tastes like!"

Pizzeria Mozza - Mozza2Go

Mario Batali is a genius.  Who else can get away with wearing orange crocs around?  This guy has given me a new re-found appreciation and a completely new perspective on Italian cuisine (not to be mistaken with Italian food - meatballs, lasagna, spaghetti).  Combine his talent working with fresh ingredients straight from Italy, most of which I've never heard of, with the amazing bread-working talent of Nancy Silverton (and also Joe Bastianich who often partners with Mario), and voila, you have the best pizza ever made...and Pizzeria Mozza, the smallest and busiest, but by far the best, pizza joint I've ever seen.

I've been twice now (required reservations both times), first long before this blog was born, and most recently in a more unusual fashion.  We actually made reservations for a wine class the restaurant was holding in the back room (closet).  They bring in the restaurant wine-director and six types (three white, three red) of wine that come straight from winemakers in a specific region of Italy, this time the Trentino-Alto Adige region, which is somewhere in northern Italy.  Of course, the whole point is to taste the wine, but they don't just give you a tiny tasting pour you'd get in Napa Valley, they poured almost half a glass of each wine.  Clearly, this is meant for people that don't get tipsy after half a glass, as you're expected to comment on and identify components of the different wines.  Given that this is not something I'm not yet sophisticated enough to accomplish even sober, I sipped my wine, nodded my head and smiled, letting myself go ahead and get tipsified.

Finally, I thought, they brought in some "antipasti" to demonstrate food pairing with the different wines - apples, asparagus, and speck (prosciutto-ish).  I really don't know if my judgement was yet altered when we received our food pairings, but I could swear those are the best apples I've ever had.  I think they had pepper on them actually...confusing, I know, but really they were amazing apples.  The asparagus was also phenominal, but that's because it was wood-grilled and topped with grated Italian cheese (not the parmesan substance that comes in a green carton at the grocery store, or even the stuff they dump on your plate using that turny thing at Olive Garden).

That was all to pair with the white wines, I later learned.  Red wine time = pizza time!  They generously plopped fresh wild mushroom and cheese pizzas on our table.  Funghi misti, fontina, taleggio & thyme, according to the menu.  Yum, according to me.  I don't care if there's funghi on my pizza when it tastes this good. They use shiitake mushrooms, button mushrooms, and a constantly changing third mushroom (we think this time it was oyster), along with a combination of cheeses, providing a perfect balance of sharp and earthy savory flavors.  The crispy wood-fired crust is absolutely amazing, and as the crust is my favorite part of all pizza, I was thrilled with the flavor and texture of this crust. 

As if we hadn't already had enough, we decided that some pizzas to go would be most necessary.  Since I didn't anticipate the need for more pizzas two weeks prior, we knew we wouldn't get a seat in the dining room, but thanks to the nextdoor Mozza2Go, we could order a couple Mario/Joe/Nancy amazing pizzas, wait 20 minutes and head home to gorge ourselves in the privacy of our home with our friends, and a cheap bottle of Trader Joes wine.  Ok, so the drive, with a detour, is long enough for us that we had to reheat the pizzas when we got home.  Nancy kindly leaves a note on reheating, pleading "Please do not microwave my pizza. Place in the oven at 350 for 12 minutes and enjoy!" (By the way, Pizzeria Mozza is kinda near Wilshire, and if you go far enough west on Wilshire, there's a Sprinkles - the detour I mentioned.  I did make this case and we did get cupcakes. That's what you do when friends are coming over...it's only appropriate.)

The first time we visited Mozza, someone nearby had a sausage pizza and the entire room filled with the incredible aroma of fresh fennel.  Desperate to try the homemade fennel sausage, we ordered the fennel sausage, panna (italian cream), red onion & scallions pizza, and the Coach farm goat cheese, leeks, scallions, garlic & bacon pizza because it sounded amazing.  Both are fantastic.  The fennel sausage is homemade, and therefore definitely worth trying, but sausage isn't usually my favorite pizza topping, and this didn't really change that for me.  The goat cheese, leeks, garlic and bacon pizza, however, might have changed my life.  This is a fantastic combination of ingredients, flavor and texture, and executed so perfectly, complete with lightly charred edges on the ridiculously thinly sliced vegetables and the crispy crust.

The only real trouble with Mozza2Go is that you can't order the gelatos they serve in the dining room.  It's a real shame, too, because they have the best gelato I've ever had.  Besides just the gelato, they do have a much more extensive menu in the dining room than on the 2Go menu, so if you absolutely need bone marrow or some other weird delicacy, make some reservations well ahead of time at Pizzeria Mozza!

Wurstkuche

When my boyfriend asked if I wanted to go to Wurstkuche, I was slightly offended. "What the heck are you talking about?"  As it turns out, Wurstkuche is the place he'd just gone with his friends for beer, fries, and sausages.  Sounded like a guy place to me, but then he showed me the menu (he sure does know how to sway me with food), and I was, at the very least, intrigued.  Actually, the menu is quite simple - sausage, beer, fries.  The list of sausages is huge, full of unusual combinations of meats and vegetables (rattlesnake and rabbit...if that even sounds good to you), and a few regulars that we know and love (good ol' bratwurst).  Equally astounding is the extensive list of German and Belgian beers ON TAP.  But it wasn't really the sausages or the beer that caught my attention, it was the fries...more specifically, it was the description I got of the thick, crunchy, salty Belgian twice-fried fries and a mouth-watering blue cheese walnut and bacon dipping sauce.  "Mmm...when can we go?"

Saturday for lunch!  Lunch is an interesting time for sausage, fries, and beer, but I've heard that at any other time (namely dinner time), Wurstkuche is jam-packed.  After all, where else do people go for sausage and beer?  The restaurant is situated in the heart of downtown Los Angeles, so a daytime trip is certainly easier for parking purposes, and less scary for me.  I'll admit that I was somewhat skeptical walking into Wurstkuche and really for the first two thirds of the way in.  The entrance is a bit like a deli, you walk in and are greeted by a glass case full of uncooked sausage...every girl's dream, right?  You order at the front counter, take a number, and then walk through a long, dark, scary hallway to get to the place with the tables, where the light finally shines! 

In hindsight, yes, 'dark and scary' seems overly drammatic, but really, you never know what to expect from a downtown LA sausage place.  And it really is a quite drammatic change in atmosphere once you enter the great dining room, which is bright and cheery, and filled with long wooden tables with benches and little cafe tables with sitting stools.  Having never been to Germany myself, I took the liberty of imagining this is what it must be like to be in a restaurant/bar in Germany.

We picked a small table on the outskirts of the restaurant, and I promtly kicked my feet up on a stool (because it's that kind of place), and took a big sigh and bigger sip of my giant $5 Franziskaner beer, which was actually quite delicious, especially since it's rare to find such an inexpensive beer that's not served in a can in Los Angeles (happy hour excluded from this generalization).

I was completely happy before our food even arrived (ok...maybe tipsy), but the addition of some sausages and fries to our table was very warmly welcomed.  We ended up with three different sausages to try, and an order of THE fries with blue cheese walnut bacon dipping sauce.  My immediate reaction was something to the effect of "Yeah...we're gonna need some more of that blue cheese bacon stuff"...

I like to save the best for last, so I'll start with the sausages.  I forgot to mention the fact that ordering these sausages was incredibly difficult...you don't just decide on the type of sausage, you have to also decide on which two toppings (choice of caramelized onions, sweet peppers, spicy peppers, saurkraut) should be on top.  If you're not a sausage aficionado, this is a difficult task.  In any case, for us, Sausage #1 was duck and bacon with jalapenos topped with caramelized onions and sweet peppers; Sausage #2 was alligator and pork smoked andouille also topped with caramelized onions and sweet peppers; and Sausage #3 was kielbasa with saurkraut which we ordered specifically for the saurkraut pairing.

Sausage Observation #1: Those aren't caramelized onions, they're sauteed onions.  Yes, there's a difference.  Caramelized onions are caramel colored and oh-so-sweet.  I don't necessarily mind sauteed onions, but please don't tease me with a caramelized option if it's not actually thoroughly caramelized.  And the onions and peppers overpower the sausage just a bit.  Not that the sausages aren't completely flavorful, because they are, but there's a bit too much going on with the onions and peppers.  Simple might be better in this case.

Sausage Observation #2: Great buns (that's what she said?).  They're ever-so-slightly grilled on the outside, but not to the point that they're super crispy and scratch the top of your mouth like a Quiznos sandwich.  Also impeccably executed is the proportion of bun to sausage.  Too often, the buns are way too big or way too thick; in this case, the buns are appropriately sized with a thickness that serves the purpose of holding the sausage and adding a nice bready taste, rather than smothering the sausage and forcing a giant mouthful of bread.

The sausages themselves were quite good too.  They do a nice job of preserving the flavor of the unique meats while ensuring the typical burst of spice and flavor you expect from your sausages.  The duck, bacon, and jalapeno sausage has a very unique fresh flavor, likely from the jalapenos themselves, but the flavor of the duck meat is still distinct.  The alligator and pork andouille is hot and spicy and tastes just like your typical andouille, but there's an obvious and interesting twist provided by the gator meat. 

The kielbasa was our safety net sausage and, after the wild-and-craziness of the "exotic" sausages, was much appreciated.  This perfectly executed classic turned out to be my absolute favorite of the sausages.  The balance of bun to meat to saurkraut is so nearly perfect it almost made me want to put mustard on it (which I never in a million years would expect to do).

Now, as I said, best for last - Belgian Fries. Wow.  I might never care to eat another McDonald's french fry again.  I'd never seen a fry crisped quite as dark as these (not burned, twice fried), but that's where all of the flavor is.  Well, that and the sea salt crystals that appear to be hand-placed on each fry (and gravity-defiant) in a way that provides the perfect amount of salt in each bite.  There is no need for ketchup here.  But, since we had it, we happily dipped into (and by that I mean fought over) the delectable blue cheese walnut bacon dipping sauce.  Scrumptious!  I'd go all the way downtown again just for the fries...and maybe the Franziskaner so I don't get thirsty!

Overall experience: great!  I left my Saturday afternoon lunch ready to plan a trip to Europe for similar but authentic (non-LA-fabricated) experiences.  For now, though, it's certainly cheaper and much more convenient to pop over to Wurstkuche for a pretend escape from the daily LA grind.

Tables (Denver!)

I'm always quick to mention that I am absolutely not a Southern California native.  I was transplanted here (semi-unwillingly) three-to-four-ish years ago for a job opportunity.  I say 'semi-unwillingly' because I always swore I would never move to LA...then came this job thing...and so here I am, eating my way through the city.  I grew up in Denver, Colorado, where I spent most of my time eating plain noodles with butter and salt, and mom's chocolate chip cookies...quite the change I've made in culinary appreciation, huh?

In any case, I often have the great fortune of leaving Los Angeles and heading "home" to Denver.  "What would you like for dinner?" is generally the first question Mom asks when I announce that I'll be gracing her with my presence for a few days.  Certainly by this point in my life,  I'm completely tired of noodles and butter (never the cookies, though), so it's always a bit difficult to decide where to go for dinner.  Given my relative new-found appreciation for...well...anything other than pasta, Mom can finally take me to some of her favorite restaurants in Denver - actually her only favorite restaurant in Denver - Tables (she might actually have other favorites, I'm just not sure when she'd have time to go to them since she's always at Tables!)

Tables. Cute name for a restaurant, right?  Tables, as the name would imply, is done-up in all sorts of different style tables and chairs, and the restaurant is just as adorable as its name in so many ways.  There are few restaurants in Denver that have anything I can't find in LA.  I didn't even need to eat anything at Tables to know that it definitely has something I can't find in LA - charm.  This unassuming restaurant has exquisite food, without the attitude.  The atmosphere is incredibly comfortable and the wait-staff (and owner, who was bouncing around the house chatting with customers) have mastered a wonderful balance of friendliness and casual professionalism. 

The tables at Tables (!) are set with a bucket of fresh bread, and a bottle-like jug of water, two of the most important things to have available at all times at a dinner table!  The menu is composed of Table Leaves (salads), Side Tables (appetizers), Head of the Table (main dishes), and End Tables (desserts), to play on the theme of the restaurant.  The menu items themselves are original, with ingredient combinations that are unique, but not uncomfortably so (they combine ingredients that everyone likes, but may not have ever thought to eat together).

Mom lives off of the Tables tuna tartar, but this past visit she ordered crispy chicken with bacon-pineapple bread pudding and black pepper-bourbon sauce. Bacon and pineapple...commence drooling.  When you're with family (and NOT in a snooty restaurant), it's absolutely appropriate to eat off of eachother's plates, so I helped myself to a bite (or two...shhhhh) of the enticing bacon-pineapple bread pudding.  Incredible!  Pineapple and bacon are two very potent ingredients; adding too much of either one would probably still result in something delicious, but wouldn't have the amazing balance and composure that this bread pudding has.  The flavors are subtle, but very obvious, and the chef must have known I would be there, because I'm sure the crust was extra-caramelized just for me.

I ordered soup and salad.  I don't know what I was thinking, other than kicking myself for eating a big lunch earlier in the day.  But really, the soup of the day, roasted red pepper and tomato, was hard to pass up, and I'll admit I was intrigued by the kumquat-vanilla dressing that topped a salad of watercress, endive, prosciutto, and bleu cheese.  I'd had the pan-seared scallops with meyer lemon risotto in the past and remembered polishing my plate (which is quite the accomplishment since risotto is rather heavy), but since I forgot my elastic-waisted pants at home, I didn't want a repeat performance and did want dessert, so soup and salad it was.  (I did get funny, concerned looks from my family, but I figure that worked to my benefit as well, as they were more than willing to share their meals to make sure I didn't leave hungry!)  One thing I have learned in California is an appreciation of really fresh ingredients, and the ability to combine the ingredients in a way that allows each to shine while also complementing the others, as in my lovely salad.  The vanilla-kumquat dressing is heavenly - light, with soft flavors of vanilla and kumquat, and surprisingly delicious without the usual tangy bite of a vinaigrette dressing.  The roasted tomato and red pepper soup is rich and full of fresh flavors of roasted peppers and tomatoes. It's topped with a pesto crouton of sorts, which provides textural and flavorful variety to the smooth, comforting soup.

Of course I saved room for dessert!  I struggled to choose between the double-chocolate smores with graham crackers, marshmallow, and chocolate sauce, and the carrot cake with mascarpone cream (which, as the waiter kindly informed me, fortunately does NOT contain raisins!)   Thanks to my sister, no decision was necessary, and both desserts arrived at the table with extra forks and spoons.  The s'mores are topped with marshallow that actually has the crispy brown campfire-like charred flavor and texture, and melted chocolate that beats a Hershey's bar any day!  A few bites of the rich dessert was all I needed to satisfy my chocolate addiction.  The carrot cake, thanks to the wonderful mascarpone cream frosting (and lack of raisins), is also scrumptious.  I barely got two forkfuls of the cake before my 1.5 year-old nephew, who refused to eat anything else all night, polished it off.  Thanks, pal!

At the end of the day (as it usually is when I'm eating dinner), no matter what I'd eaten at Tables, I would have left happy as a clam.  There's something incredibly special about a restaurant that can evoke the comfort of home, but also the excitement of new and different flavors in food.  If I could, I'd grab a table or two from Tables to bring back to Los Angeles, because we could certainly use a restaurant like this, where those of us without 'fame and excess' can feel a little more at home.

Piccolo in Venice

dineLA Restaurant Week always sneaks up on me.  In fact, I was lucky enough this year to have gotten a reminder a couple days before it started so I didn't miss it completely.  Honestly though, a couple days advanced notice is hardly enough to sift through all of the restaurants that participate in Restaurant Week and finally decide on which one or two to visit. 

We actually turned this decision into a science project, complete with an Excel spreadsheet with sort and filter functionality.  Ultimately, it really just came down to the special Restaurant Week menu offerings (each restaurant has a set three-course menu that will run you either $, $$, or $$$), which are fortunately available for pre-viewing on the dineLA website!  There are a lot of really amazing-looking restaurants that offer Restuarant Week menus, but so many of those menus feature a choice of chicken (fancified because its 'Jidori' chicken...seriously), beef (usually with some French fancification), or salmon (which isn't fancy but some people think it is).   Knowing that none of these have much chance of impressing me, we decided to avoid the places with "boring" choices, even if they were the big name, fancy restaurants.

Piccolo, located in Venice Beach, immediately caught my attention because their special menu offered FIVE courses instead of the standard three.  Five is more than three...more is better.  Piccolo's got extra credit for the fact that there was NO chicken, beef, or salmon on their Restaurant Week menu.  We generally don't jump for joy over Italian food, mostly because Italian food in America is so often spaghetti with meatballs or lasagna or something else slopped with marinara sauce.  Careful scrutiny of the Piccolo's menu revealed no such marinara nor meatball, and therefore we had our winner!

I had a heck of a time making reservations at Piccolo's, which I later learned is due to the fact that they only have twelve tables in the restaurant.  Cute!  After a bit of restaurant research, I also learned that Piccolo's essentially told the Zagat ratings people to take their guide and shove it you-know-where due to a disagreement over the restaurant's rating (they actually asked to be removed from the guide).  Finally...a restaurant with some personality!!

A trip to Venice is always a bit of an adventure. In the past, I'd only been through Venice on a bike in daylight, when the crowd is a bit weird.  This time, it was night and I was in heels and the crowd was weirder...and had a bonfire.  Piccolo's is on the corner right by the main Venice Beach walkway, so the weird street crowd certainly adds to the experience.  It's a tiny place, but absolutely adoreable inside.  They have an open air kitchen, authenic Italian decor, and a narrow curvy staircase that I wish I had climbed to find out what's at the top.  This is a perfect date restaurant, in my opinion, because there's just enough hustle and bustle that you have to lean in just a bit to talk to the person across the table (and nothing is over-garlic-ed to make that problemmatic).

Wine should accompany Italian food, so we picked out a half-bottle even though it's not included in the special set-price menu (that's where they get you!).  The waiter recommended something non-Californian (Italian...duh), so naturally I had no idea what it was, but it was absolutely delicious (and non-headache forming, for me at least).   In an effort to slow the wine's effects (or at least that was my excuse),  I dove straight into the basket of fresh bread.  Breads actually...there were different types: a classic and beautifully baked Italian bread, and some tiny knots of cheese-flavored bread that were absolutely heavenly.   I did not ask for more bread to avoid embarrassment, but looking back, I'm certain it would have been worth every bit of the embarrassment to eat a basketful of the delicious knots of cheese bread...perhaps then I wouldn't continue to dream about them...

For our first courses, we chose a duck prosciutto with a gorgonzola "drizzle" and a watercress salad with pine nuts, fresh shaved parmesan, and hearts of palm.  Both dishes were incredible.  I've never had anything with gorgonzola that wasn't completely overpowered by gorgonzola flavor, but they somehow manage to let the prosciutto shine with the surpisingly subtle gorgonzola flavor in the drizzle.  The watercress salad is light and fresh, but bold with delicious flavor and texture from the perfectly complementing ingredients.

Next to the table were seared scallops with a truffle shaving over parmesan fondue, and seared ricotta with wild mushrooms and pancetta.  Nothing else I can say will make your mouth water any more than it already is, and it should be.  My only complaint here is that I wished I had more, but with three other courses on their way, I was better off without more.

In true Italian form, our pasta was served separately from the "main course."   Pumpkin garganelli with porcini mushrooms, leeks, and fresh parmesan.  The pumpkin flavor in the pasta is subtle, but absolutely delicious paired with the creamy leek sauce and earthy porcinis.  Our main course was a baked pheasant breast, rolled in speck (prosciutto-like pig product), and stuffed with truffled-honey roasted pears.   I was actually shocked at how much I liked this given that I generally don't go nuts over fowl.  I'll admit the pheasant itself was a bit dry (typical fowl!), but the speck was crispy and salty and so much more pleasant than the typical bacon-wrapping.  The roasted pear stuffing provided a perfect balance of sweet to accompany the savory meats.

Thank goodness Restaurant Week menus all include dessert...I always want dessert!  I will admit that, although I always enjoy my dessert, I am particularly critical of desserts, and few desserts really shock me.  Piccolo's desserts, however, blew me away: flourless chocolate cake and chocolate-cream pastry puffs.  The flourless chocolate cake is incredibly rich and creamy, but not the typical super-sweet uncomfortable richness so common in chocolate desserts, and the pastry puffs are perfectly light and fluffly, like chocolate flavored clouds.  I used to think it was only in movies and commercials that people closed their eyes when they ate something delicious.  I actually closed my eyes to eat my dessert, and I still don't really understand why, but it was THAT amazing. 

You can keep your Olive Garden and meatballs...I'll take a table at Piccolo's any day!

Langer's Deli

Langer's Deli is a Los Angeles favorite, a kosher-like deli known for its corned-beef and pastrami sandwiches on the best rye bread you can get outside of New York City.  I was eager to visit the diner, if for no other reason than to escape the overabundance of "California cuisine" (sushi and avocados) that follows me everywhere.

Driving to Langer's, which is somewhere East-LAish, I was keenly aware that "we're not in South Bay anymore."  The deli sits on the corner in a neighborhood that is the last place you'd expect to see a kosher deli.  I was surprised that the line was out the door and halfway up the road.  This must be a d*mn good sandwich for people to wait outside for it, I thought.  Fortunately, the wait was very short, and we were at a quaint diner table in no time.

The menu is a bit daunting if you don't eat deli food every day.  Lots of options.  They help you out by pointing out that their most popular sandwich is The #19.  Clearly this helps with quicker table turn-around by minimizing time wasted to indecision and menu gawking.  The #19 is made with their famous pastrami, topped with swiss cheese, coleslaw, and russian dressing, served on rye bread - clutch.  Sounded weird to me but I figured it was the most popular for a reason, so we ordered one #19 and one #something-else, which was a corned-beef sandwich with sauerkraut and swiss cheese, also on rye.  Having recently discovered an appreciation for sauerkraut, I had high hopes for this one.

What do you order to drink at a deli?  I poked around the drink menu for something that screamed "deli."  The first on the list of beverages is the "egg cream".  Huh?  I asked the waitress to explain the "egg cream" to me.  Milk, seltzer, and syrup.  Gross. I ordered one.

Waitress: Chocolate or vanilla?
Me:  Oh...(hesitating, as if there was actually any competition) What do you recommend?
Waitress:  Chocolate.
Me: I'll have chocolate (duh).

My egg cream came seconds later, and I don't know why, but I was actually suprised that it tasted EXACTLY like chocolate milk mixed with seltzer water that had gone flat.  Next time I'll go for the milkshake, but at least now I can say I've experienced an egg cream.

Two gigantic sandwiches arrived at our table.  I dove into the #19 pastrami sandiwich to see what all the hype was about.  I was immediately surprised by the texture of the rye.  I expected a strong bread to hold up to the creamy coleslaw, but the deliciously flavored rye was actually soft and fluffy.  My first thought on the popular sandwich was that there was just too much wetness from the coleslaw, but I supposed that's the appeal for some.  I followed with a bite of my corned-beef sandwich in an analytical, comparative fashion.  The bread on the corned-beef was toasted, so it had that stronger texture I expected, but had also been buttered, which detracted from the bold rye flavor that was so nice in the untampered bread.  I was hoping for more sauer in my sauerkraut, and found the sandwich tasty, but lacking a bit of the bite I'd hoped for.

As is my routine with sandwiches, I proceeded to take my sandwiches apart so I could eat each component separately.  I prefer sandwiches in their non-sandwiched state because you can take out the parts that taste the best.  The pastrami that was extracted from my #19 was tender and flavorful and absolutely delicious when separated from the coleslaw.  Unfortunately, I could not rescue the beautiful rye from the sogginess that was its destiny.  Even the crusts, my absolute favorite part of the sandwich, were were beyond repair having fallen victim to leaks.  The corned-beef was equally delicious, but didn't have the same wonderful kick as the pastrami.  Due to my obvious lack of appreciation of a sandwich (and apparently coleslaw), I feel I should share the opinion of my lunch date, who thought the #19 was an amazing sandwich. He left his intact and clearly enjoyed the mess factor. 

By far the best part of my experience at Langer's took place on the way out.  I insisted that we take home a loaf of the best rye bread I've ever had.  At the counter, I watched them slice the bread and toss the ends to the side, leaving our loaf "buttless".  STOP RIGHT THERE!  I asked what they do with the ends of the bread, and was promptly told that they were thrown out.  I asked if I could have them, since the butts are my absolute favorite parts of the bread, acually they're the only ones I usually eat, and was sent home with a paper bag filled with the day's bread butts.  THANK YOU LANGER'S...a dream come true!  I also left with a roll of poppy-seed bread...or cake...whatever you call it.  The poppyseed filling, the most I've ever seen in such a pastry, is surrounded by a soft, semi-sweet dough that half melts, half crumbles in your mouth as you eat it.  Absolutely scrumptious.  My dog agreed, and polished off the loaf of take-home rye and poppyseed bread he stole from off the counter a few days later.  I guess I'll be making another trip to Langer's pretty soon...

Bazaar...Bizarre

On a random Thursday night, we thought it might be neat to hop on over to Beverly Hills for a "quaint, modest" meal at the new little restaurant at the SLS Hotel...right?

Wrong...maybe if we were rich and/or famous, but we're regular, and therefore this trip to the Hills was actually a big deal, and not at all "quaint and modest". We made reservations way in advance for a well thought-out Thursday evening dinner at one of the hippest, snazziest, new restaurants in town - The Bazaar by Jose Andres. It's by Jose Andres, and they won't let you forget it. Rather than answering the phone with "Thank you for calling the Bazaar," they employ the entire mouthful "...The Bazaar by Jose Andres..." There's good reason for this. Jose Andres is THE guy that popularized Spanish fare in United States, both traditional and avant-garde, and we must all thank him for bestowing upon us his divine culinary gift.

I first heard of The Bazaar by Jose Andres in a casual conversation to the tune of "Hey, we should try this place, they're supposed to have some cool stuff"...little did I know of the epic cultural phenomenon really involved here. It wasn't until I'd read an article that my mom in Denver saved for me from the Wall Street Journal, calling it the "Restaurant of the Future", that I really understood WHY it would be absolutely imperative that we eat there - namely, they use liquid nitrogen! An added perk is the fact that they serve primarily tapas, and all the plates are tiny. Tiny plates equals more plates...see where I'm going with this? (Let this also serve as a disclaimer that more plates equals longer review.)

We arrived at The Bazaar by Jose Andres (I intend to continue typing the entire name to exaggerate their point) a bit earlier than our reservation. I wasn't entirely sure we were in the right place (despite the gigantic sign over the door we walked through) because there was not a single other patron in the restaurant. Well attuned to the fact that we were slightly uncomfortable, the hostess sent us straight to the bar. Smart lady. I orderd a sangria, not for the alcohol, but for the nifty little container which it was served in.

Sipping on what turned out to be a mediocre sangria, I overheard the restaurant's second group of patrons of the night attempting to order at the bar. Apparently, you can request the "bar tender's choice" where he creates a personalized drink just for you by combining flavors from his vast toolbox of ingredients (berries, jalapenos, edible flowers, cotton candy, to name a few). Definitely should have done that! 

Two sips later, I turned around to find that the once virtually empty restaurant was now slamming with people - people dressed to impress. I immediately realized this place would be great for people-watching...and eavesdropping. I probably rubbed elbows with someone semi-important as I attempted to tour the gigantic restaurant. I say attempted because I was somewhat distracted by this:



It's the dessert bar. We'll come back to it later...at least three times.

We darted to the hostess stand in the center of the grand-entrance-like area to announce our hunger, and then followed casually to the posh table where we'd have one of the most awe-inspiring meals of our lives...so far at least.

Our waiter's name was Jorge. It was comforting to know that we'd be served Spanish tapas by a real Spaniard, or at the very least a wonderful actor. I honestly wouldn't be surprised either way...LA, remember? The most explanation we got from Jorge all night was "left side of the menu, traditional; right side of the menu: molecular gastronomy. You can't decide? I choose for you." (If you aren't hip with the food times, molecular gastronomy is basically 'chefs on chemistry'...the art and science and 'don't try this at home' of the food world). Given the magnitude of menu items and the lack of decision-making skills at our four-person table, we decided to entrust Jorge the great task of creating our evening tasting menu. Surprises make everything taste better (with minor exceptions...you'll see).

I'll go ahead and say this now: Jose Andres(of The Bazaar by Jose Andres in case you forgot) is a genius. I certainly cannot critique his art nor the preparation of our tiny plates of edible joy, as everything done in his kitchen is clearly deliberate and executed with remarkable precision. I will say, however, that half the time I had no idea what exactly made my dish taste so good. The wait-staff probably explained what we were eating, but I only caught half of what they said as they whizzed past the table, barely getting our plates to us before disappearing. In some cases I definitely missed some of the experience by not completely understanding the history of the food in front of me. But that's why I'm here now typing this novel-ish narrative of my experience at The Bazaar by Jose Andres.

And with that, I give you the main event: dinner!

Actually...at the table we ordered another round of drinks. Juve Bela, a grape soda and gin concoction, Jale Berry, with berries and jalapeno, a Magic Mojito, the classic poured over cotton candy, and best of all - the Nitro Caipirinha!

Enter liquid nitrogen.

This classic Brazilian mojito-like drink was mixed with liquid nitrogen right at our table, like something out of a Harry Potter movie.



As my camera flashed in the poor drink lady's face, I imagined her chanting to herself "double, double, toil and trouble..." while she whipped up the magic in her cauldron. I'm not kidding about the magic. What came out was not only a beautiful and delicious cocktail, but a perfectly refreshing compliment to our meal, serving to cleanse the palate between courses, much like a sorbet, but somehow even smoother.  Needless to say, don't plan on sharing this. Get your own. Maybe 2 depending on how much you eat.

Jorge started us off with one of the best dishes of the night in 'put your best foot forward' fashion: Roasted piquillo peppers (traditional tapas menu). The piquillos are stuffed with the creamiest goat cheese I've ever had. The peppers are lightly drizzed with two exquisite reductions, one of which is creamy with a hint of citrus, the other a delectable sweet and tart Pedro Jimenez reduction (dessert sherry...and I can only assume that Pedro Jimenez is superior quality liquor). We debated licking the plate, but decided against it given that we were in a relatively fancy restaurant. I did sneak a finger-full, though, while no one was looking.

Our next surprise was Olives. Olives aren't my favorite, but they're Spanish, so I took it as a key component to the progression of the meal. These guys are professionals after all, so I had to trust their judgement. Well, as it turns out, at The Bazaar by Jose Andres, they don't just serve olives. They serve traditional olives (stuffed with roasted pepper and anchovies) accompanied by...get this...liquid olives. Somehow they take the flavor of a smooth, salty olive and make it into a liquid olive-sized blob packed inside a micro-membrane of sorts. You put the little bundle of olive confusion in your mouth, and are immediately overcome with a flood of olive flavor. Whether you like olives or not, this is pretty cool.



If you just can't handle the strong olive taste, fortunately they employ the same magical liquid flavor technique in the "Not Your Everyday Caprese Salad," with cherry tomatoes, basil pesto, and liquid mozzarella. I love traditional caprese salad, so I was more than excited to try the modern twist on the classic. Turns out, I actually really do appreciate the textural components of the classic salad, so I wasn't overwhelmed by the molecular gastronomy version, despite the fun of the squirt of liquid cheese.

We must have still been in shock from the wonder that had just been on our plates, because when the waiters brought over a tray of ham and some bread covered with a crushed tomato topping, we all looked slightly confused and almost disappointed. But, as I said before, this is where some history would have helped our appreciation of the food in front of us. This 'plate of ham' is actually a trio of cured Jamon Serrano, Jamon Iberico, and Jamon Iberico de Bellot, some of the best cured meats in Spain. In fact, I understand that you can't even get some of this stuff anywhere else in the United States. Had I known I was eating the "creme of the ham crop", I think I would have scarfed it with a bit more consideration than "let's finish this and get the plate out of the way so we can try that other stuff!" And that 'plain-old' tomato bread is actually a traditional and beloved Catalan dish, called Pa'amb tomaquet. Despite my ignorance of its roots and purpose on my table, I did take the time to thoroughly enjoy the pa'amb tomaquet, mostly due to my preference for baked goods. I might have been the only one at the table to notice the amazing little pockets of butter running throughout the chewy bread, which was nicely balanced with the soft, sweet and salty tomato topping. Nothing fancy here on the surface, but YUM. I do give credit to any restaurant with awesome bread.

Speaking of fancy, and in this case by fancy I actually mean extraordinary, our next dish was a modern play on the popular Philly Cheesesteak, and OH MY GOODNESS...

I've never actually had a normal Philly Cheesesteak, nor have I really cared to, and now I can't imagine that I'd ever want a Philly Cheeseteak that didn't come from The Bazaar (by Jose Andres). These mini sandwich bites are so far beyond "normal", and might have been the overwhelming favorite dish of the night, the one thing we kept talking about long after we finished eating. "How the heck did they do that?" Airbread, liquid cheddar cheese, and Wagyu beef. Fancy. Delicious. Amazing.

Personal preference definitely still plays a part here. I went into this entire meal expecting to love everything. I didn't love the seared chicken with dates, but not because it wasn't wonderful (it was actually a favorite among my co-eaters). The chicken is indeed beautifully seared and pairs well with the sweet, tender dates (which I did enjoy), and is placed delicately over a sea of mustard. I hate mustard. I get queasy thinking about mustard. I did dive into this dish with an open mind; after all, if anyone could get me to eat mustard, it would be Jose Andres. Incidentally, Jose Andres cannot get me to eat mustard.

Possibly the weirdest thing we ate all night was cotton candy covered foie gras. It's clever because of the playfulness of emotion that goes along with eating it. You get a blob of sweet cotton candy that's inevitably too big to fit in your mouth, but you try to shove it in anyway just like you did when you were a kid. Once you reach the center, you get a mouthful of cold, smooth foie gras (duck liver), which you certainly wouldn't have touched as a kid. Foie gras is interesting to me. I haven't quite figured out if people actually think it tastes good, or if they eat it because it's the ultimate indication of culinary sophistication. 

We were showered with food for nearly three hours. The "corn-on-the-cob" is actually a plate of baby corn, artfully crafted such that each bite tastes a little bit different - sweet, salty, buttery - to ultimately give you the feeling of eating an ear of perfectly cooked corn-on-the-cob.  The tuna ceviche wrapped in cool avocado is light and delicate and probably very popular. The wild mushroom rice, similar to risotto, is rich and creamy and deliciously comforting amidst the bizarre and confusing flavors dancing around the table in other dishes. The Wagyu beef cheeks, possibly the most tender meat I've ever had, are nicely accompanied by sweet and sour clementines, and are carefully topped with a touch of sea salt to provide a surprising crunch of flavor. The watermelon and tomato skewers might have been surprisingly delightful had we not previously been introduced to the unique combination of flavors, admittedly in a slightly more delicious preparation, in a different restaurant. Don't get me wrong, they were still delightful here, just not suprisingly so.

We waited 10 minutes near the end of our meal for our last plate, uni (sea urchin) buns, so by the time we got them, the anticipation was so high that they really had very little chance to wow me. Given the amount of wow I had already experienced that night, I had very little wow left in me, and needed to save some wow for dessert! They did come in a really adorable bamboo steamer basket that I wished I'd had a big enough purse to steal.  Again, personal preference here, but I wished my bun had come without uni. I tried to love it, but unfortunately, I don't love uni even wrapped in a sweet, squishy bun. To me it tastes too much like the ocean, and yes, I realize that's because it is indeed from the ocean, but I much prefer my seafood to not instantly remind me of the many times I've been unpleasantly slammed in the face by crashing waves of salt water. The sea urchin aficionados at my table did point out that this particular instance of sea urchin was actually not too salt-watery...what do I know?!?!

On the verge of bursting, we were all very excited when the waiter told us we'd be moving into the Patisserie for our dessert. YES! The Patisserie is the cute little area of the restaurant that home to this precious masterpiece:



Eager to see what sweetness Jose Andres (or his pastry chef) had in store for us, we plopped ourselves at our dessert table to check out the menu, and promptly ordered some beverages to accompany our desserts. If you're going all out anyway, dessert must come with coffee (I prefer espresso), but beware, it's VERY bitter...probably something most of us Americans are not at all used to. They also serve Absynthe, by the way, if you're brave (don't all rush there right now, it's not the full-proof crazy stuff).

The dessert menu is splattered with candies, bon bons, and other bite-sized treats in addition to their full-sized small-plate (confusing, right?) desserts. My decision, of course, could certainly not be made without knowing what the desserts looked like. Fortunately, they have this:



...the dessert bar (did I not say I'd come back to this three times?)! The bon bons, candies, cookies, cakes, and plated desserts sit prettily under their glass domes on this heavenly display. The glass domes really serve two purposes here: visual effect, and protecting the delicate candies from droolers. It's also incredibly difficult to put your face up against the glass if it's dome-shaped (as opposed to normal dessert counters, many of which fall victim to nose-prints as well as finger-prints!)  After two trips to the dessert bar (for me at least), we finally decided on the nitro dessert (of course), a tres chocolate mousse, and an apple bread pudding with saffron sauce.

Our dessert took an extraordinarily long time to come out, and our dessert waiter was nice enough to bring us a plate of candies and a cone-full of chocolate pop rocks! They immediately transport you back to your childhood, but you're happier than you were back then because now they come in chocolate!

The nitro dessert, actually called Nitro Coconut Floating Island, was "nitro-ed" in the back, so we didn't get to oooh and ahhh. The coconut dome tastes a bit like frozen cool-whip (this is not a bad thing, but not something I needed to go to Beverly Hills for), and sits atop some bananas and a sea of passion fruit and vanilla sauce. Light and sweet, it's a nice finish to a big meal. BUT it's not chocolate (there is no competition between chocolate and nitro in my book)...

The SLS Tres Chocolate Mousse has THREE chocolates, well three layers of mousse, and is topped with chocolate crunchies and served with a pipette of chocolate sauce that you can either drizzle over your dessert, or aim straight into your mouth (which I did because I wasn't trying to impress anyone that night). What's not to love?

Apples "Carlotta" is a delicate apple flavored bread pudding, served with a saffron sauce that I wish they would have just brought to the table in a cup...I would have poured it over my Tres Chocolate Mousse.

I made one last trip to the dessert bar to debate the purchase of take-home goodies. I made the wrong decision and left empty-handed. I was incredibly intrigued by the mini chocolate chip cookies. Not because there is anything intriguing about a small chocolate chip cookie, BUT because I happen to make THE best chocolate chip cookies ever, and I sometimes wonder if I might one day meet my match (not including my mother whose recipe I use). Afraid to be outdone, I did not get the cookies at the Patisserie at The Bazaar by Jose Andres. Please, someone buy some and tell me how they are.

The Bazaar by Jose Andres is certainly not just a place to get a good meal, but a place to go for a completely unique and bewildering experience that you shouldn't miss if you have a couple hundred dollars to spend on dinner. I say a couple hundred not because you're going to spend all of that on food and drinks, but because I personally felt the need to make a charitable donation (in my case Haiti disaster relief) prior to spending an exhorbitant amount of money on a fancy meal. If nothing else, it helps cope with the inevitable accusation, "You spent how much on a meal? Don't you know there are starving children in (fill in the blank)?", which you could promptly follow up with, "I took care of them before we left...have YOU donated yet, cheapo?"