Musha (Santa Monica, CA)

Musha
424 Wilshire Blvd, Santa Monica, CA 90401
310.576.6330
www.musha.us
Sat 10/31/2009, 06:00p-07:15p



What do food bloggers do for Halloween? Go out to eat, of course! For All Hallow's Eve this year, Christine of Folie à Choisauce organized a small get-together at Musha, an izakaya in Santa Monica helmed by general manager/chef extraordinaire Taku Suzuki (there's also a sister location in Torrance). For the uninitiated, izakayas are basically Japanese-style pubs, featuring small, savory plates of food meant to be paired with beer and/or sake. The atmosphere inside an izakaya is usually fun, festive, flirty, lubricated by the omnipresent flow of booze--the ideal vibe for a Halloween dinner. And if you're wondering about the name, in Japanese, musha musha is the sound effect for eating, basically the onomatopoeic counterpart of the English echoism nom nom (which was itself first popularized by Cookie Monster, and subsequently by LOLcats).

Also in attendance for the dinner portion of the evening were Danny of Kung Food Panda, Nathan of Binary Tastebuds, Sonja of The Active Foodie, as well as Christine's oppa, John.


Musha is located in the heart of Santa Monica, sandwiched between Wahoo's Fish Tacos and a Chevron gas station. Parking can be tricky on the street, so I'd recommend one of the many public parking structures in the area, which command a flat rate of $3 after 6:00. The nearest one is on the southwest corner of 4th and Wilshire.


We were pretty much the first party to arrive, so the place was nearly empty to begin with, but would later teem with throngs of revelers and roisterers (the rotund-ish man in the doorway, dressed in a UPS uniform, is none other than Taku-san). Being early did allow us, however, to commandeer the private tatami room in the back, which accommodates up to 10 people (minimum charge of $200).



Musha's menu, full of colorful descriptions and endearing grammatical errors (such as the seemingly nonsensical "Chiller Santa Monica! Yes, we need this!!"), is a joy just to read; click for larger versions. In Japan, sushi and sashimi aren't considered popular izakaya fare, and though the versions in Los Angeles tend to offer raw fish items, I'd stick with the grilled, fried, and otherwise cooked courses.


Since izakayas are, at their heart, drinking establishments, the drink menu must be considered as well. A selection of beer, wine, shochu, and sake is on offer, but no liquor; click for larger versions. We ordered up two pitchers of Sapporo Draft [$12], as well as three decanters of sake: first the Yoshi No Gawa [$18] from Niigata, then the Hananomai [$18] from Shizuoka, and finally the premium Hakkaisan [$28] from Niigata.


Spicy Tuna Dip [$8.95]
We started with one of Musha's most famous dishes. Everybody's had a spicy tuna roll at some point, but here it's served as a dip, paired with crispy rice crackers. As expected, it was a quite tasty, a gorgeous amalgam of rich tuna and spicy sauce, heightened by a fantastic crunch from the rice, with a bit of lingering heat. Nice.


Aburi Saba [$11.00]
Christine insisted that we just had to order this, so we did: a dish of vinegar-marinated mackerel filet, sliced and torched tableside, garnished with gari, wasabi, and karashi. The searing really brought out the oiliness of the saba, but fortunately, its fishiness was relatively tame. It was pretty good by itself, but positively superb when paired with the acerbic, biting tang of the ginger. Note: our server was a guy, in drag (remember, it was Halloween); some of us, though, did have to do a double take!


Lobster Roll [$7.95]
As regular readers will know, I usually eschew rolls, but somehow agreed to this. It was lobster, avocado, cucumber, masago roe, and mayo, rolled up in seaweed and soy paper, sans rice. It certainly wasn't offensive, but the essence of lobster was really lost here, and the flavors in general seemed muddled, indistinct.


Tofu French Fries [$5.95]
How do you get uptight Americans to eat tofu? Cut it up into parallelepiped form, deep fry the suckers, and call 'em French fries. Seriously though, this wasn't bad at all. The "fries" were pretty mild flavor-wise, so really the sauce was the key here. Creamy wasabi and sweet chili condiments were provided; the latter was a bit too sweet for my tastes, but the tofu was superb with the former.


Negitoro Tuna Croquette [$6.95]
Next was negi (green onion) and toro (tuna), minced into a slurry along with garlic, pepper, and hijiki seaweed, breaded, and tossed into the deep fryer. Though my croquette was perhaps a touch dry, I rather enjoyed it, a nice admixture of savory tuna, tarted up by the tang of scallion. Even better with the paired grated daikon-mayo dip.


M.F.C [$7.95]
No, M.F.C doesn't stand for Most Fobbiest Chicken; rather, it's Musha Fried Chicken, or soy sauce/sake/ginger/garlic-marinated chicken filet, breaded with cornstarch, deep fried, and served with two kinds of grated daikon, as well as ponzu. It certainly was tasty enough, albeit a bit blunt, and could've been a touch tenderer. Good, but not at the level of a truly sublime fried chicken (for sublime, refer to Ludo's duck fat fried chicken, the buttermilk fried chicken at Ad Hoc, or Ira's Javanese-style ayam goreng).


Takotama [$6.95]
The menu advertised this as Musha's signature dish, so it was a must try for us. It was basically a two-layer noodle omelet, with octopus (tako), leeks, red ginger, and bonito broth (katsuobushi dashi), smothered in a dark, viscous sauce--think of it as an unholy marriage between takoyaki and okonomiyaki. There was a real multitude of tastes, with the octopus itself acting as more of a textural component. The initial flavor sensation was vaguely reminiscent of Indian-style curry, with the umami-rich flavor of the bonito coming in later.


Tanshio [$8.95]
And now, for a little yakiniku action. Here we have thinly-sliced beef tongue (tan), topped with salt (shio) and pepper, and grilled. Now normally, the grilling is performed by the diners, but given that the tatami room can't accommodate the shichirin charcoal grills normally used, the kitchen had to grill the meat for us. I'm not complaining, as the tongue turned out quite delicious--unctuous, super saporous, imbued with an immensely beefy flavor. Even better when dipped in the provided lemon-sesame oil sauce.


Musha's Risotto [$8.80]
This was another dish that Christine insisted upon, but unfortunately, it didn't turn out quite as well as the Aburi Saba. It was basically a Japanese interpretation of classic Italian risotto: brown rice cooked with chicken broth, then pan-fried with Prosciutto, onion, and soy milk. The whole concoction was then mixed tableside in a block of cheese by our lovely "waitress." Great concept, but the execution left me wanting. There was a distinct lack of flavor, like the kitchen forgot to add any salt or seasoning!


Butakim [$7.80]
Next was one of my favorite items of the night: thinly-sliced pork, stir-fried with napa cabbage (baechu) kimchi and mushrooms, doused with soy sauce. The key was the kimchi, which was a superb temper to the savory pork. Great with beer.


Char-Han [$6.95]
Our last savory course was a spicy fried rice with ground pork, Thai chili, bamboo shoot, ginger, garlic, leek, and egg, finished with fish sauce, cilantro, and red ginger. It wasn't very spicy sadly, and the flavor in general was rather muted--I didn't get much of the pork, fish sauce, bamboo, or ginger really. The cilantro was a great touch, though.


Interestingly, izakayas in Japan often do not offer dessert. However, Taku-san is a fan of the sweet stuff, so he does push them at Musha. Click for a larger version.


Before dessert was served, we were given cups of tea, filled with what I believe was umeboshi, or pickled ume fruit.


Maple Crème Brûlée [$5.80]
Continuing on with the he-she blowtorch action, we started off with a crème brûlée, caramelized tableside. It was about what you'd expect, with a somewhat heavier, richer flavor from the use of maple syrup flavoring.


Chocolate Soufflé [$6.00]
Next was the chocolate soufflé cake, basically a chocolate cake with a liquid chocolate interior, served with vanilla gelato. It was certainly tasty enough, the gelato proving a nice counter to the decadence of the chocolate, but variations of the molten chocolate cake are almost clichéd at this point I think.


Apple Tartin [$6.00]
Finally, we have Musha's take on the classic apple tarte tatin, torched tableside, served with the same vanilla gelato as above, along with a sprig of rosemary. It was a fairly standard presentation except for the rosemary, which provided an astringent, herbal counterbalance to the dish.


Conclusively, complementary cuts of cantaloupe to close.


And finally, the requisite group photo, minus Nathan (who left to attend a Cirque du Soleil show with Connie of Hey Hey Scenesters), with our lovely server; note "her" use of double fob "V" signs.

---

The night was still young, so we made our way down Santa Monica's Third Street Promenade, looking for a nearby bar to wet our whistles...


...Finally settling upon Copa d'Oro, where we were joined by Twitterer and famed cupcake-maker Remil, as well as Dave. We took a seat at the bar...


...And ordered up a round of the Halloween night special, the Sagatiba Cursed Caipirinha [$10], a delightful cocktail combining the sweetness of blood orange with the alcoholic bite of cachaça. As we were finishing up our drinks, we moved from the bar to a table...


...Where we were tempted by the shot girl, who was pushing shots of the aforementioned Sagatiba cachaça [$5], to be chased by small slices of blood orange dipped in a sugar/cinnamon mixture. We succumbed to her charms and accent and ordered a round. The cachaça itself was surprisingly smooth, given its potency, and the chaser was perfect, leaving a lingering sweet spiciness in our mouths. More booze was necessary...


...So Christine decided to ask owner/bartender Vincenzo Marianella for a custom cocktail, utilizing ginger as well as her favorite liquor, gin. The resultant concoction, shown above with the John's Rhode Island Red (sorry for the subpar photo), was absolutely profound in its gingeriness--in the words of the eternally sage Ralph Wiggum: it tastes like burning. Once we polished off the drinks...


...We made our way outside, to decide where we were going next. But there wasn't much deliberating to be done; there was only one option really: noraebang (Korean-style karaoke). Thus, we wandered back to our cars, and made the trek over to K-Town, stopping at Palmtree LA, supposedly the poshest karaoke joint around (Nathan would join us later on). There won't be any more photos from here on (wisely left my camera in the car), though apparently, there might be a video floating around of me doing a pretty mean rendition of Taylor Swift's Love Story...

Gyenari (Culver City, CA)

Gyenari
9540 Washington Blvd, Culver City, CA 90232
310.838.3131
www.gyenari.com
Wed 10/21/2009, 07:00p-10:45p



Opened in August 2008, Gyenari is the brainchild of two Korean partners, Danny Kim and William Shin, as well as Robert Benson, a veteran Los Angeles restaurateur and owner of Creperie by Jack n' Jill's (Benson was also a general manager at Claim Jumper earlier in his career). The idea for Gyenari came to Shin while he was eating at Gyu-Kaku, a higher-end yakiniku (Japanese BBQ) chain, where he noted the similarities between Gyu-Kaku's food and Korean cuisine. The goal of the trio, thus, is to present an authentic Korean dining experience with a fusion twist, all in an upscale setting.

I'd been familiar with Gyenari for a while, but this dinner was a result of the efforts of Meghan Patke, an Account Supervisor at PR firm Wagstaff Worldwide. Now, as a blogger, I get numerous emails from PR people every day, most of which only receive a cursory glance. Meghan's email, however, caught my attention because it featured Debbie Lee, a caterer turned restaurant consultant who's best known as a finalist on The Next Food Network Star. On the show, Lee showcased her signature cuisine, dubbed "Seoul to Soul," a blend of the Korean cookery she learned through her grandmother, and the American Southern style inherited through her mother. Contrary to popular belief, Lee herself was raised in Arizona and later Southern California, not in the American South; her parents, however, did emigrate to Mississippi from the Pyongyang area.

So how did Lee get tied up with Gyenari? Well, it turns out that Lee and co-owner Will Shin were actually cousins who'd lost touch for 20 years! The two met earlier this year at a Next Food Network Star viewing party held at Gyenari, and Shin subsequently asked Lee to consult at the restaurant for a few months, adding her own touches and flourishes to the menu. Some may recall that on June 25, Lee kicked off the Hatchi series of dinners of Breadbar, wherein a chef would prepare eight courses at $8 each, one night only. I was curious about trying Lee's unique brand of fusion (Mandu Sliders with Sweet Brioche anyone?), but didn't manage to make it out. I was thus hoping that this dinner would represent a chance to experience some of what I'd missed out on.

Meghan had organized a rather large group of bloggers. Joining me were Anjali of Delicious Coma, Bill of Street Gourmet LA, Cathy of Gastronomy Blog, Christine of Folie à Choisauce, Danny of Kung Food Panda, Diana of Diana Takes a Bite, Evelina/Wesley of Two Hungry Pandas, Fiona of Gourmet Pigs, Ila of I Nom Things, Sonja of The Active Foodie, Tony of SinoSoul, and Wandering Chopsticks.


Gyenari is situated in the heart of Downtown Culver City, right next to Rush Street and opposite Akasha, Ford's Filling Station, and Tender Greens; meanwhile, Bottle Rock, Fraiche, and K-Zo are a stone throw's away. Cheap and easy parking is available across the street on Cardiff.


A relatively new addition to Gyenari is the outdoor patio, which features its own menu of Korean beer tavern-inspired eats, with Debbie Lee's touches, of course. This is where I met up with Meghan and the rest of the blogger party (we would end up occupying the entire space pictured above).


Upon being seated, a Soju Caipirinha (lots of fresh limes, raspberries, muddled lychee, soju, splash of soda) was quickly thrust in front of me. It was a nice way to kick things off--sweet and fruity, with the soju appearing just on the finish.


1: Assorted Skewers
Once everyone arrived (surprisingly on-time, according to Meghan), plates of assorted skewers began to come out (tip: labeling a course as "assorted" doesn't bode well with bloggers). Ginger soy beef/onion and eggplant/mushroom skewers were tolerable, with the standout being the spicy pork with bell pepper.


2: Duk Boki | Pan Fried Rice Cylinders in Onions and Korean Chile Paste
Next was duk boki (more usually tteokbokki), a common Korean street food. The version here consisted of garaetteok (cylinder-shaped glutinous rice flour cake) in a gochujang sauce, served with onions and hard-boiled eggs. A very straightforward presentation, I think many of us were surprised by its heat, which was fortunately tempered by the tteok and the creaminess of the egg.


At this point, we were ushered out of the patio, through the bar/lounge area...


...Into the main dining room, replete with 32 grill-tables (smokeless, so you don't walk out reeking of samgyeopsal). The room is a bright, vibrant space, sort of an industrial-chic, with exposed ductwork and rustic red brick walls, anchored by a yellow, 350 square-foot mural depicting the restaurant's eponymous blossom. A private dining room is also available.


The menu for the night is shown above; click for a larger version. The first thing that we noticed was that it seemed surprisingly traditional. We were all expecting a "bulgogi 'n' biscuits" experience (the fusion aspect of Gyenari had been highlighted in previous communiqués), so this left us understandably flummoxed.


As far as booze goes, Gyenari offers up a selection of wine, beer, soju, and sake, but all of us were far more interested in the appealing-sounding cocktail selection. Click for larger versions.


After a few words, Meghan left us to ourselves, and Gyenari's Event Coordinator Jimmy Jang gave us a quick introduction of the restaurant before the parade of food began to arrive.


3: Pumpkin Porridge | Toasted Pine Nuts, Soju Sautéed Dates
I believe the proper name for this is hobakjuk, basically a cold porridge (juk) made with pumpkin and glutinous rice flour. It was expectedly saccharine, with a sugariness heightened by the application of the dates; however, the savory pine nuts did help temper the dish.


4: Assorted Jeon Plate | Mung Bean, Shrimp, Fresh Vegetables
One of my favorite Korean foods is jeon, a broad category of egg- or flour-coated fried pancake-like items. We had three types here, served with a ginger soy vinegar and a spicy gochujang-based dip. The eggplant (gajijeon) and squash (hobakjeon) versions were passable, while the mung bean variant (bindaetteok) was much more interesting. My favorite, however, was the saewoojeon, with the scallion deftly accenting the savor of the shrimp.


5: Pear and Shiso Salad | Flashed Rib Eye, Shabu Sesame Dressing
Though the salad was seemingly less traditional than most of the other dishes, I did rather enjoy it. The meat itself was nice enough, thinly sliced and immaculately tender. It was complemented by the sweetness of the pear and the subtly contrasting tang of the "shiso" (kkaennip, I imagine), while the dressing did tie everything together (though it was perhaps a bit strong).


It was time for more cocktails. I went with the Watermelon Soju Spritzer (fresh watermelon, soju, sprite, and a salted rim), which we all agreed tasted exactly like a watermelon Jolly Rancher! Danny, meanwhile, chose the Pomegranate Pearl (veev acai, pearl plum vodka, pomegranate rice wine, cranberry splash); sweet with a ricey tinge, it was my favorite of the group. Christine decided on the Cucumber Gingerita (a refreshing meld of cucumber, ginger, vodka, sour splash), which was quite delish as well, with a cool cucumber attack leading to a subtle ginger finish.




At this point, five plates of banchan were brought out, so we knew that the barbequing was about to commence. The banchan were: potato salad (would've liked a more substantial texture), baechu kimchi (nice), sukju namul, cucumber kimchi (good heat, but could've been crisper), and broccoli.


Once the meat came out, our server, with a spring in his step, enthusiastically piled the various cuts atop the grill...


...However, Christine quickly took charge, asserting her dominance, and I eagerly entrusted my meat to her willing and capable hands.


6: G1 | Gyenari Galbee, Bulgogi, Aged Pork Belly, Gyenari Flower Chicken and Japchae
We were given the "G1" combo, which consists of four types of meat--garnished with Japanese eggplant, onion, Korean peppers, mushroom, and garlic--and served with three condiments: ssamjang, a "beef dipping sauce" (soy-based I imagine), and a miso aioli. I first tried the bulgogi, or thinly-sliced marinated beef prime rib, which I found rather sweet, perhaps due to an overallotment of sugar in the marinade. The galbi (ganjang-marinated beef short rib) was better--flavorful, with a pleasing, pliant consistency. Next was the dahk gui-esque "flower chicken," made from free range chicken with a citrus-soy glaze. It was my favorite of the quartet, suitably tender, with the nice citrus tang, deftly complemented by the aioli dip. We ended with the aged pork belly, basically Kurobuta samgyeopsal flash marinated in a soju-infused sauce. It was expectedly fatty, and flavorful, but a tad sweet. It went best with the ssamjang, which effectively cut its unctuousness.


The "G1" includes japchae, which is a dish of cold cellophane noodles (dangmyeon) with carrots, mushrooms, onions, peppers, and sirloin beef, stir-fried in sesame oil, and finished with sugar and soy. Though some thought the japchae too sweet, I rather liked it, finding the dish to be a nice interplay of flavors and textures, with the sweetness proving a fitting contrast to the savory element of the beef.


7: Kimchee Chigae | Traditional Korean Kimchee Stew
Our final savory course was the kimchi jjigae, basically a spicy stew of kimchi, tofu, and scallions. It was a hearty, and heartwarming, way to end the meal.


Near the end of the meal, owner Will Shin came out to talk to us about the story, concept, and philosophy behind Gyenari. In case you're wondering, aside from the restaurant, Shin is President of Crown Edition LLC, an electronics importer and luggage manufacturer.


8: Spicy Chocolate Creme Brulee | Bacon Shortbread, Almond Cream
9: Green Tea Beignets | Chocolate Mint Drizzle
Finally, we were presented with a duo of dessert. The crème brûlée was nice enough, with the almond cream tempering the sweetness of the custard, and the bacon shortbread adding a tasty savory contrast. The beignets, meanwhile, were quite delectable, and, taken with the mint drizzle, reminded me of eating mint chocolate chip ice cream. They were even better when used to scoop up the remaining bits of crème brûlée.


Now this definitely lends authenticity to Gyenari: for only $21, you can get a 100oz Hite Tower, just like at Crazy Hook in K-Town! I believe Crazy Hook charges $35 for 5 liters (169oz), so this is a pretty great deal.

So in the end, what do we have here at Gyenari? Well, the food we had was surprisingly authentic (even by the standards of Christine, our resident Korean food expert), and for the most part pretty good, albeit a bit sweet overall. Certainly, there's more to be had at the top places in Koreatown, but Gyenari does a respectable job, especially considering the location; I don't think that there's anything more compelling in terms of Korean within five miles.

But traditional Korean fare is only half the equation at Gyenari. What about the Korean-American Southern fusion? What about Debbie Lee? What about Seoulfood? Will and Meghan have stated that another dinner will be planned in the near future, in order to show off the fusion side of the menu--I want my galbi 'n' grits.

Club 33, Disneyland (Anaheim, CA) [4]

Disneyland
Attn: Club 33
1313 S Harbor Blvd, Anaheim, CA 90803
www.disneylandclub33.com (unofficial)
Sun 10/18/2009, 05:30p-08:00p



Given that this was my fourth visit to Club 33, the "secret" restaurant at Disneyland (yes, some of the magic has been lost on me!), please see here for some background information about the place. You can view plenty of interior photos in my previous posts: 2006, 2007, and 2008.

One thing I did do differently this time around, though, was to invite other bloggers, as well as some readers, to come along with me. Bloggers included Andrea/Scot of The Foodie Traveler, Matt of Dig Lounge, Sam of LAist, and Wandering Chopsticks, while kevinEats followers Peter and Ravi were also in attendance.


Another change this time around was that instead of brunch, we were having dinner. This meant no buffet spread and no visits from Mickey, but rather, a four-course meal. Given that we were a rather large group of about three dozen people, the menu was decided beforehand, with the only choice being a selection of fish or steak for the main entree. Total cost, paid ahead of time, was $117, inclusive of tax, tip, and non-alcoholic potables (Perrier and Smartwater, mostly). The menus above, thus, were mostly for reference; click for larger versions.


A serviceable walnut-olive loaf was the bread on offer.


1: Local Field Greens, English Cucumber, Stone Fruit Vinaigrette
The salad starter was a bit more interesting than I'd expected. The variety of greens lent some textural variation, and their bitterness was tempered by the sweetness of the dressing, as well as the "candied" croutons and nuts, while the cucumber provided a touch of coolness. Not bad.


2: Regional Artisan Cheese, Port Reduction
Next: a trio of cheese, served with crackers, stone fruit, and a Port reduction. In foreground, we have Chaumes, a semi-soft cow's milk cheese from Périgord, France; it was supple and savory, full-bodied yet mildly-flavored, but unmemorable. Second was the Elderberry Derby from North England, a semi-firm pasteurized cow's milk cheese with a smooth texture and buttery, mellow savor, accented by a sweetish tang from the addition of elderberry wine. It's a subtype of Derby, a cheddar-esque group of cheese that also includes the popular Sage Derby. Finally was the Brie, a very well-known and well-liked soft cow's milk cheese. Creamy, luscious, salty, with a slight tang, it was textbook Brie, and great with the fruit. Overall, a delicious, but very safe, selection of fromage. I did find a bit strange, however, that the cheese course was served at the beginning of the meal.


3a: Pan Seared John Dory, Crispy Artichoke
Given that I've eaten the Chateaubriand here on two prior occasions, I went with the Dory this time around, a lean, firm-bodied fish with a nicely crisp exterior. It was actually surprisingly tasty, albeit a bit unpolished, with a delectable saltiness tempered by the greens, while the artichokes provided a lovely accompaniment.


3b: Filet of Chateaubriand, Cabernet Demi-Glace
Club 33 seems to always have some form of this dish on the menu. I didn't get to taste the filet, but people around the table seemed to be enjoying it well enough. Andrea, however, did mention that the sauce was a bit too strong, overpowering the beef's natural sapor.


At this point, Andrea and Scot shared some of their 2007 Erath Pinot Noir, Willamette Valley, Oregon [$35]. I thought that it was decent enough, a light, uncomplicated, easy-drinking, everyday pinot with strawberry and cassis on the nose, leading to crisp notes of light red fruit on the palate. Andrea described it as "passable."


4: Kahlua Chocolate Bombe, Orange Zest Expresso Sauce
Disneyland is known for its so-called Hidden Mickeys, and it looks like one made its way onto my plate here, as evinced by the first photo. In any case, we were quite blown away by this immensely rich and heavy, incredibly chocolate-y "bombe;" it was so prodigious, in fact, that most of my fellow diners could only consume about half of it! Its potency was mitigated by the application of whipped cream and strawberry, but the accoutrements could only do so much. I didn't get much of the purported Kahlua, which I think would've helped in balancing out the monstrous monolithicity of the chocolate.

All in all, I'd say that Club 33 was a bit more refined, a bit more polished at dinner than at brunch, though I'll admit that I do miss the all-you-can-eat buffet (where one can load up on cocktail shrimp!). But again, you don't come to Club 33 solely for the victuals, you come for the secrecy and the swank, the panache and the poshness, the ability to say "I've been." It's a great experience, one that you should jump on if you have the chance, but the best food at Disneyland still resides at Napa Rose.

La Casita Mexicana (Bell, CA)

La Casita Mexicana
4030 Gage Ave, Bell, CA 90201
323.773.1898
www.casitamex.com
Fri 10/16/2009, 07:40p-11:05p



Cenaduría La Casita Mexicana, affectionately known simply as "La Casita," is certainly one of the most beloved Mexican eateries in the Southland. The place first caught my attention earlier this year, when Javier Cabral, a.k.a. (Teenage) Glutster, organized that infamous 18-course tasting dinner here.

Located in a somewhat out-of-the-way part of South Los Angeles, La Casita is the brainchild of two mustached men: Jaime Martin del Campo and Ramiro Arvizu. The duo, both from Jalisco, opened the restaurant in 1999, and its authentic, en temporada fare was well received by customers and critics alike. Jaime and Ramiro's aim was to change the City's perception of Mexican food, by introducing Angelinos to traditional, varied, unique Mexican cookery, the "food of their grandmothers," made with seasonal, high quality ingredients. Their passion and devotion to the food of their ancestors have earned the pair numerous awards and accolades, and even a spot on Univision's popular show Despierta America.

The impetus for this particularly trip to La Casita came from one of my readers, Andrew, a new transfer student at UCLA, one who happens to have training in classical French cooking. After sharing our "to-eat" lists with each other, we decided upon La Casita as a place that we both wanted to explore. Joining us was Andrew's lovely and talented friend Jenae, a writer for UCLA's school newspaper, the Daily Bruin.


La Casita's colorful exterior leads to an even more cherry inside, replete with stained glass and Spanish tiles, surrounded by artwork-drenched walls in hues of blue and orange. The place has a fun, festive feeling.


La Casita Mexicana's menu is tight, focused, and divided neatly into sections. Try to eat your way around the carta (just make sure to order the tres moles), and since portions are fairly large, I think that it's best to go with a group and share. Click for larger versions.


To wet my whistle, I asked for a glass of the Aqua de Limon con Semillas de Chia [$2.25], which came recommended by our server. It was basically a lemonade, but one tarted up with seeds of the chia plant (Salvia hispanica). The seeds were somewhat glutinous, and acted as a mild thickening agent for the delicious, refreshing, semi-sweet drink.


Quick to arrive at the table was a plate of totopos (tortilla chips), topped with three types of mole, with house salsa on the side. The moles made this a nice sweet-smoky alternative to the ubiquitous presentations of "chips & salsa" that you always find at Mexican eateries.


Many of the items on the menu come with the complementary Sopa del Dia, or soup of the day. On this particular night, we enjoyed a tortilla soup, made using a chicken/tomato broth base, various chilies, herbs, and shredded cheese. For me, the key was the cheese, which added a richness and depth to the surprisingly delicate soup, resulting in a lovely interplay of contrasting savory and tangy flavors. Quite good.


Also with our mains came a small basket of housemade tortillas (which were periodically refreshed). Three types were presented--corn, guajillo chile, cactus--and though I had a difficult time distinguishing them, all were excellent.


Enchiladas "La Casita Mexicana" [$11.95]
Here was a trio of enchiladas, filled with cotija cheese, topped with a salsa roja, served alongside fried potatoes and fried chicken, and garnished with lettuce and red onion. Though I'm sure that we've all had enchiladas in some form or another, I don't believe I've had them served with the meat on the side before. The chicken itself was quite tasty, though some pieces were a bit dry, and I especially enjoyed the potatoes. The enchiladas themselves, meanwhile, were nicely imbued with the spicy essence of the chile sauce and heightened by the cotija, though I really wished that the chicken was stuffed inside along with the cheese, to make for a more cohesive eating experience in my mind.


Queso Azteca [$9.95]
Now here was one of La Casita Mexicana's most well-known dishes, a house specialty in fact. We have four different Mexican cheeses (cotija, panela, Oaxaca, queso fresco), stuffed with poblano chile slices, nopales (cactus), mushrooms, and Mexican herbs (epazote), all wrapped up in plantain leaves and grilled until soft. The result was a rich, heavy, decadent dish, the creaminess and the saltiness of the cheese coming to the fore, accented by the pungent epazote and tempered by the various veggies. I rather liked this one.


Flautas de Pollo [$8.99]
Also known in the US as taquitos, flautas ("flutes") consisted of rolled tortillas, stuffed with meat (chicken in this case), fried, and served with a variety of accoutrements: Mexican cream, lettuce, tomato, red onion, and red sauce here. Though this was perhaps the "safest" dish we ordered, I nevertheless enjoyed it. The chicken itself was surprisingly tender, yet flavorful, and went nicely with the crispy tortilla shell. The various toppings, meanwhile, provided some context and contrast to the meat.


Chile Relleno con Hongos y Nopales [$10.95]
Chile relleno is a fairly well-known dish around these parts, but La Casita's version was a bit different than what I'm accustomed to. It was a much sparer preparation (no meat, no cheese): a chile stuffed with cooked diced cactus and mushrooms, and seasoned with red tomatoes and onions. This was one of the few times I've had cactus, and the example here had an absolutely fascinating texture, along with very mild, delicate sapor. As such, the mushroom was key in adding a bit of earthiness and weight into the fray, and the tang provided by the tomatoes and onions was crucial in integrating this dish. I would've liked to have seen more done with the stuffing though.


Tres Moles con Puerco [$11.95]
If there's one thing that La Casita is known for, it's the mole. Though there are numerous types of mole abound, the restaurant typically makes three: poblano, rojo, and verde (rojo and verde are also known as pipian for their use of pumpkin seeds). The trio came served atop pork, finished with Mexican rice. Mole poblano is what most of us think of when we think mole. Here, it's made with a whopping 46 ingredients, including dried chile peppers, nuts, spices, and chocolate. The end result is a perfect smoky/sweet flavor that's forceful but not overbearing. Rojo, on the other hand, is a lighter, spicier mole, with distinctly earthy notes, while the verde, made with Serranos, is more focused, brighter, sharper. All three were a joy to eat with the pork, and I even enjoyed the rice, which had a marked "seafood" tang to it.


Chile en Nogada [$13.95]
We end with the famous Chile en Nogada, a Pueblan dish from Mexico's traditional school of "haute cuisine." It's basically a poblano, filled with picadillo--meat, dried fruits, walnuts, candied cactus (dulce de biznaga)--and topped with a pecan cream sauce and pomegranate seeds. The pork mixture was perhaps a touch sweet for my tastes, but it was balanced beautifully by the crisp, tangy pepper. At the same time, the pomegranate heightened the picadillo's sugariness, while adding a great textural component.


Though we were all quite full at this point, we eagerly read through the dessert menu to choose our postres. Click for a larger version.


To go with the sweets, I ordered up a tall glass of Agua de Horchata [$2.25], a sweet rice drink that was easily the best horchata I've ever had, with light, bright flavors backed by fantastic notes of rice, spice, and cinnamon. Delish!


Estudio de Flan
Much to our surprise, the chefs decided to send out a complementary tasting of three types of flan: regular, sweet potato, and corn. We started with the regular version, which had the signature flan flavor that we craved, along with a somewhat firmer texture than usual. Next was the sweet potato, notable for its grittier texture. The corn, finally, was interesting for its characteristically corn aftertaste. Very nice.


Churros con Cajeta [$3.99]
If there are churros on the menu, then I must have them. Here, they came filled with cajeta, a sugary syrup made from caramelized milk. The churros themselves were superb--light and fluffy with a delectable sweet finish--and were perfectly balanced by the weight and power of the cajeta.

Though I've certainly ventured past the bastardized fare that passes for Mexican in this country, I'll admit that I'm still somewhat of a neophyte when it comes to traditional Mexican cookery. Nevertheless, to me, the food that the kitchen put forth here screamed honesty, authenticity, quality. It's a world beyond the familiar lure of burritos, yellow cheese, hard-shell tacos, and sour cream, and if all goes well, I think that Jaime and Ramiro are well on their way to changing our preconceived notions of Mexican food, maybe one palate at a time.

Trattoria Tre Venezie (Pasadena, CA)

Trattoria Tre Venezie
119 W Green St, Pasadena, CA 91105
626.795.4455
www.fooddigger.com/RestaurantDetail.aspx?id=10973 (FoodDigger, restaurant has no web site)
Wed 10/14/2009, 05:55p-08:40p



I'd been curious about Tre Venezie for a while now, ever since it received its Michelin star in fact. It'd always struck me as a low-key, homey type of place, not exactly the kind of eatery to have an étoile bestowed upon it. I finally made it over recently, after having some business to attend to in the Pasadena area.

Originally a livery stable, Tre Venezie is a quaint little restaurant, painted a polenta yellow, located on a tree-lined street slight left from the nexus of Old Town Pasadena (tip: enter through the side entrance, not the "front door"). Street parking's the way to go here, and we had no problem finding some on Dayton, just south of the restaurant. From Dayton, we walked up De Lacey and past a Buca di Beppo, where I'd actually dined once after watching the Bruins upset the Trojans at the Rose Bowl. Strolling past Buca, I couldn't help but think to myself how different these two Italians were. Buca di Beppo is, of course, to most Americans the archetype of what an Italian restaurant should be: red/white checkered table cloths, pizza, kitsch scattered 'bout the room, heaping plates of spaghetti & meatballs washed down by bottles of fiasco-enrobed Chianti, and plenty of red sauce of course--the American bastardization of Southern Italian immigrant fare, really.

Trattoria Tre Venezie, thus, represents a departure from your standard Italian-American cuisine. Opened in 1999 by Chef Marianovella Rizzi, Chef Marialiana Sciolis, and Antonio Sciolis, the place highlights the cooking of the Tre Venezie area of northeast Italy, specifically the regions of Friuli-Venezia Giulia, Trentino-Alto Adige, and Veneto. The culinary traditions of the Tre Venezie are unique in the world of Italian cookery. Friuli-Venezia Giulia, for example, borders Slovenia to the east and Austria to the north; as a result, the cuisine of the region shares common roots with its neighbors--items like strudel, goulash, polenta, and Viennese sausage. Trentino-Alto Adige borders Austria too, as well as Switzerland, and also puts forth cuisine with a distinctively Austro-Hungarian tinge. Veneto meanwhile, having long a shoreline, places an emphasis on seafood, and is well-known for its rice-based dishes. The end result is a menu that's refreshingly different than those of most other Italian places here in the Southland.



Inside, things are similarly quaint. It's a small, charming, intimate space, almost home-like in appearance, filled with books, art, and other items of interest. The room is divvied up into a larger space in the back (below), and a smaller dining room up front (above, where we were seated); a small bar brimming with grappa acts as the dividing line.


The menu is focused, with nary a red sauce in sight, and changes often depending on what the kitchen has in stock. Upon examining it, I was surprised, and pleased, by the number of dishes that I'd never encountered before--cjalsons? When have you ever seen those before? When we asked to have a copy of the menu to take home, we were given not only the menu, but its accompanying binder; the last time that happened was at Zengo in Denver, and there we had to pay $35 for the privilege! Click for a larger version.


We were thinking of something bubbly to start, and since Tre Venezie features sparkling wines from its eponymous region, the non-vintage Ruggeri Prosecco di Valdobbiadene Cartizze [$50] was an easy choice. It hails from Cartizze, a 1000-ft hill of 100 hectares, divided amongst 140 producers. Due to the area's unique morphology and microclimate, the Prosecco made at Cartizze is considered the finest in all of Italy, and the Ruggeri was certainly no exception. We loved its gorgeous effervescence, its elegant, medium body, and its juicy pear- and apple-tinged flavors.


The bread looked drearily unimpressive, but was immensely, and strangely satisfying--perfect crispy/creamy texture, and wonderful with the butter. We went through several plates of it.


Crudita' di Pesce [$16.00]
Our first course was crudo, which seems to be all the rage these days. Basically a dish of raw seafood dressed with Italian seasonings, it originated in seaside towns in Italy. Tre Venezie's selection of seafood changes periodically, but on this night included salmon, scallop, branzino, and prawn. I first tried the scallop, and really enjoyed how the mollusk's natural sweetness interacted with the brininess of its seaweed accompaniment. Next came the branzino, my favorite of the quartet, with a lovely snappy texture and delicate flavor heightened by a delectable herbal finish. Third came salmon, in tartar form: very tender, mild, and delicious. Finally was the prawn, uncommonly fresh, with a luscious, creamy flesh and subtly sweet flavor that well superbly with a bit of lemon.


Pesce in Saor & Baccalá Mantecato [$16.00]
This was two dishes in one. From Veneto was the pesce in saor, a preparation of fish (traditionally sardine or anchovy) in a sweet and sour marinade (vinegar, raisins, pine nuts, and eggplant), dating back to Roman times. Interestingly, the escabeche-like dish originated from two sources: sailors, as a way to preserve fish without refrigeration; and Italian Jews, to observe the prohibition against using fire on the Shabbat. The example here had an expectedly sweet/sour tang, one that was almost Asian in character. Now, the baccalá mantecato. It's a dish consisting of stockfish, commonly cod, that's boiled and beaten to a paste, mixed with olive oil, then seasoned with garlic and parsley, and served on bread or polenta, as was the case here. The result is a creamy, herbal-y, yet delicate spread, with a fascinating texture to boot.


Carpaccio di Kuroge Wagyu [$18.50]
The story of carpaccio is a relatively recent one. According to folklore, the dish was actually invented in 1950, at the legendary Harry's Bar in Venice. Supposedly, a customer request a dish with only raw meat; the restaurant prepared it, and the carpaccio (named by bar owner Giuseppe Cipriani after Venetian painter Vittore Carpaccio) was born. The example here utilized Kuroge Wagyu beef from Japan, watercress, and Parmigiano Reggiano. The beef was supremely marbled, as can be seen above, and was delicious even on its own. However, the bitterness of the greens really helped cut the beef's fattiness, while the citrus-based dressing contributed a lovely tang to the dish. My only concern was the cheese, which, when taken in larger quantities, could actually dominate and mask the flavor of the beef.


Bigoli al Riccio [$24.00]
As pasta is not as popular in Tre Venezie, bigoli is actually one of the few indigenous pastas that have originated from the region. Think of it as the thicker, rougher brother of spaghetti, ideal for seafood sauces that tend to stick to the noodles. The bigoli were topped simply with an uni reduction, which I could smell across the table--talk about a fierce, briny, heady, intoxicating aroma! The taste was similarly strong, and scrumptious, with an almost clam-like savor that permeated the firmly-done noodles, offset by a slight herbal twang. Very good.


Blecs al "Tacelenghe" [$18.50]
Another pasta that I hadn't had before was the blecs, derived from Slovenian word bleck or "piece of cloth". It's a specialty of Friuli-Venezia Giulia, and consists of irregularly-cut swaths of barley flour (farro, or spelt) pasta, topped with a ragu of Harris Ranch beef cheek that's been braised in Tazzelenghe wine. The beef's rich, savory-sweet flavor was tempered by the firm sheets of pasta, making for a very enjoyable experience.


Ravioli al Ripieno d'Agnello [$18.50]
For our final pasta, we went with something a bit more common: ravioli, filled with lamb shoulder and herbs, served with a sauté of multicolor sweet bell peppers. The lamb was full of flavor, absolutely delicious actually, and was perfectly countered by the lovely tang of herbs; I would've been happy eating the ravioli just by themselves. Though unnecessary, the sweet peppers did add a bit of variety into the mix.


Boreto alla Gradese [$27.50]
Our final savory was the boreto, a traditional dish of Laguna di Grado consisting of sautéed fish (cod here) and squid with roasted garlic and black pepper, all over a bed of soft polenta. The result is a salty, garlicky presentation of cod, with a distinct peppery component. It would've been a touch overpowering on its own, but paired with the mild, tempering polenta...the combination was magical. I also loved the buttery, super-tender consistency of the fish (I didn't need to chew), as well as the crunchy, sweet-tasting squid. This dish didn't seem like it should work, but it did, in spades.


Above, we see the dessert selection, which, like the rest of the menu, was not what we were used to seeing; click for larger versions.


To drink, we ordered up a bottle of Cucumber Dry Soda [$6], a "culinary soda" supposedly; I found it sweet with a cool cucumber taint--quite refreshing really. The next libation was much more interesting. It was the Rosolio Speziato di Limone [$12], basically a sweet liqueur stepped in lemon and saffron, popular with the Venetian aristocracy back in the 18th century. It was a pungent, astringent affair, and I definitely didn't love it.


Crema alla Salvia [$9.00]
Our first dessert was the Crema alla Salvia, or a sage-infused custard cream, with a caramelized sugar top, drizzled with almonds, served with fregolotti (a traditional sweet from Trentino-Alto Adige). The crème brûlée-like custard was expectedly sweet, but with a delightful herbal tang and an almost savory finish; it reminded me of the Butterscotch Budino at Pizzeria Mozza. The fregolotti, meanwhile, was very firm in texture, but had a lovely, nutty sweetness that went swimmingly with the custard.


Gelati della Casa [$9.00]
I pretty much never order gelato at Italian restaurants, but the yogurt and rosewater version here convinced me to. The testicularly-shaped gelato itself was sugary, but with a fantastic tart, acidic, yogurt-y tinge. It was nicely balanced by its jammy syrup accoutrement, and the whole amalgam reminded me of LudoBites' "Strawberry Soup Marshmallow Ice Cream Wasabi."


We thought that we were done at this point, but owner Antonio Sciolis brought out a complementary tasting of Tre Venezie region grappas for us to enjoy. Starting from the front, the first was an Amarone grappa, made from distilled Amarone must; it had a woody, earthy sapor and a hot finish reminiscent of Port. Number two was a cherry-infused grappa, a lighter grappa with a distinct cherry overtone. Last was a basil and honey grappa, which had an herbal, almost gin-like character--basil with a honeyed backbone--and a viscous, soft complexion.


To pair with the grappas, we were also brought two pieces of the Dolce Moro from the dessert menu. These were bits of hazelnut and cashew, enveloped in a fine bittersweet chocolate ganache: sweet, but not too sweet, with a fantastic nutty accent. This was at its best when consumed with the cherry grappa.

I walked out of Tre Venezie very satisfied. I can't say for certain if the dishes I had were strictly authentic northeast Italian (though they certainly seemed so), but I can say that the cooking I experienced was honest, personal even, hearty and heartwarming, yet subtle, refined, and delicate. It's Italian, but so different compared to all the other Italian places I've been to. This is a meal that will stay with me--red sauce will never be the same.

Saddle Peak Lodge (Calabasas, CA)

Saddle Peak Lodge
419 Cold Canyon Rd, Calabasas, CA 91302
818.222.3888
www.saddlepeaklodge.com
Sun 10/11/2009, 07:00p-11:00p



The tale of Saddle Peak Lodge begins over 100 years ago, when it was constructed as roadhouse, nestled deep in the hills surrounding Malibu. In the 1920s, the Lodge evolved into a retreat for the Hollywood crowd, a home away from home for the luminaries of Tinseltown. It was only in the post-WWII era that the Lodge began to transform into the fine dining establishment it remains today.

Throughout the years, Saddle Peak has seen a steady progression of chefs. Josie Le Balch of the well-known Josie restaurant in Santa Monica once helmed the kitchens here, brought in by owner Ann Ehringer to clean up the place in 1995. So did Alex Scrimgeour, of the ill-fated Alex on Melrose (at the site of the new Hatfield's), who came in 1998 and left in 2001. Next was Warren Schwartz, who eventually moved to Santa Monica's Whist at the Viceroy in September 2004; Schwartz, of course, recently opened up the popular Westside Tavern at the Westside Pavilion. Schwartz's sous chef Mark Murillo (ex-Café Pinot) took over for a while, lasting until fall of 2006. Enter Argentinean and Patina and TRU alum Steven Rojas, who successfully garnered a Michelin star for the Lodge in the guide's inaugural ranking of Los Angeles restaurants. Rojas, however, left in July 2008 for El Bizcocho at the Rancho Bernardo Inn in San Diego, taking his star with him (he replaced Gavin Kaysen, who moved to Café Boulud in NY). Rojas' "molecular," degustation-only menu failed to catch on with the City's conservative diners though, and was asked to leave in May 2009. As of late June, it appears that Rojas is still looking for a new gig.

With Rojas out of the picture, it was time for his sous chef, Adam Horton, to shine. Horton, interestingly, actually started his professional career as a line cook at the Lodge, working under Warren Schwartz while attending Le Cordon Bleu California in Pasadena. Horton graduated in 2004, and then moved to Europe, staging across a constellation of Michelin stars at Gordon Ramsay on Royal Hospital Road, Le Moulin de Mougins, La Palme d'Or, Taillevent, and Troisgros. Horton returned to the States in 2006, landing briefly at Josiah Citrin's Melisse before circling back to Saddle Peak.

It is Horton himself who I have to thank for this meal. A reader of this blog, he emailed me a few weeks ago, inquiring if I'd be interested in a complementary tasting of the restaurant's revamped menu. Of course, I was interested, very interested in fact, as Saddle Peak Lodge had been on my radar screen for some time. Joining me were Ryan of Only Eat What Feeds Your Soul and Will of FoodDigger.


After a long, winding, occasionally scary drive up mountainous two-lane roads, I arrived in front of the Lodge, which looked exactly as I thought it would. The only form of parking is valet, which seems a bit silly given the location of the place (the middle of nowhere). The lone valet, to his credit, performed his duty superbly however, and was quite personable to boot.


Inside, it was also exactly as I'd expected. Above, we see the main dining room, reminiscent of a rustic log cabin, and filled with a variety of trinkets and tchotchkes, baubles and kitsch, the infamous stuffed animals heads, and other "objects d'art." It was dark, but comfortably, cozy even. In addition to this space, there are also several private dining rooms upstairs.


For this very special dinner, Chef de Cuisine Adam Horton and Sous Chef Chris Kufek prepared a 13-course extended tasting menu (replete with a couple experimental dishes thrown in), while beverage pairings for each and every course were provided by Wine Director Joshua Buckner. Click for a larger version.


Two breads were provided: a sourdough, and a much more interesting rye bread, which we thought was spiced up with caraway and aniseed. Butter was served in square form--suitably soft, sweet, and scrumptious--while sea salt was also supplied.


Amuse Bouche 1: Shrimp galantine | cucumber, red onion, nuocman vinaigrette
Jeio Prosecco, n.v.
Right off the bat, Horton shows that he's not afraid to experiment with Asian flavors. The centerpiece here was the galantine, a type of charcuterie in the form of a disk of minced shrimp. It effectively demonstrated the light, delicate sweetness of the crustacean, reminding me of chao tom in fact. The onion and cucumber of course provided a refreshing vegetal accent and crunchy textural element, but the key was the nuoc man (fish sauce), which turned the amuse to a perfect combination of sweet, savory, and sour. The nuoc man elevated, integrated, and punctuated the shrimp, effectively conveying the quintessence of Vietnam without going overboard. Superb.


Amuse Bouche 2: Farmers market butternut squash soup | with peekytoe crab "hash" and ginger crème
Jeio Prosecco, n.v.
For me, butternut squash soup tends to express the season of autumn and the coming of winter. The example here was expectedly sweet, perhaps a touch too much so, though quite rich and heartwarming. I appreciated the application of the crab and the salty potato especially (a superb textural contrast as well), but I would've liked more to offset the monolithicity of the soup.


Amuse Bouche 3: Slow poached salmon | Yukon potato blini, american sturgeon caviar
2008 Semler, Sauvignon Blanc, Malibu
No messing around here: a classic flavor combination to be sure. The poached salmon was creamier than usual, accented by a pinch of smoked Maldon sea salt. The fish's briny essence was further heightened by the smack of the caviar. However, the blini and crème fraîche effectively tempered the combination, forming a well-balanced complex of savory and mild flavors.


1: Smoked wild albacore crudo | with compressed heirloom tomato, cilantro, basil, white balsamic, garlic chips, and créme fraiche ice cream
2008 Palmina, Arneis, Santa Ynez
And now, our first "real" course. I enjoy a good albacore, but I felt that there was a bit too much going on here. The main culprit was the tomato, which lent an overarching sweetness to the dish that overwhelmed the fish's intrinsic flavor, as well as most of the smoking imparted. The crème fraîche had a similar effect, in addition to providing a rather jarring temperature contrast. The coriander and basil did help temper things, but overall it seemed like less would be more here.


2: Seared diver scallops | with butternut squash, black garlic, braised swiss chard, and uni veloute
2008 Flying Goat Pinot Gris, Santa Maria
This was a perfectly cooked scallop, superbly firm yet pliant in body, with a flavor simultaneously sweet yet subtly briny, accented by a beautifully caramelized char lending a savory tang--I would've been happy eating the scallop just by itself. I did appreciate the slight sweetness provided by the uni, but found that the squash tended to dominate the bivalve's natural sapor.


3: Duck confit agnolotti | shaved foie gras, duck consomme
2008 Joel Gott Riesling, California
Next came one of Horton's experimental dishes, which I'm happy to report was arguably my favorite of the night. The duck agnolotti looked safe enough, but the broth, poured tableside, was the crux here. Immediately, we inhaled its heady, intoxicating aroma, and noted a striking resemblance to pho broth. Indeed, Horton would later reveal that he used coriander, anise, and cardamom in it, thus taking us back to Vietnam for a bit. The confit itself was everything you'd expect: rich, savory, fatty, and absolutely delicious. Its flavor was utterly countered by the cilantro, and the broth tied everything together perfectly. This was something I could just eat a whole big bowl of!


4: Crispy Berkshire pork belly | heirloom tomato, peppadew, frisee, and sherry aigre-doux
Delerium Tremens, Belgium
Is it just me, or has pork belly been done to death? I suspect that it has, but nevertheless, I rather liked this preparation. Belly can often times be overwhelming in its unctuousness, but here it was quite palatable on its own, possessing a good ratio of lean-to-fat, and a nice crispy char. Its sweet & sour & savory flavor was tempered by the frisée, while the tomato heightened its sweetness.


5: Tartare of prime beef tenderloin | with medjool dates, sun dried tomatoes, arugula, quince mustard, toast, and quail egg
2007 Summerland Pinot Noir, Santa Maria
I can't resist a good steak tartar, so I requested that this dish be added to the menu. The first thing I noted was that the beef was quite sweet from the dates, and spicy from the mustard; I would've preferred a stronger beefy taste, without the accoutrements mixed in. Despite that, I did appreciate the quail egg, which added an enveloping creaminess to the dish, as well as the brioche, acting as a mitigating element.


6: Seared foie gras | with a study of organic apples, brioche, and duck gastrique
Yalumba Muscat
I'm generally wary of seared foie gras these days, but this was alright. The liver alone was very heavy, very rich, very powerful, and was definitely in need of a temper; the brioche fit that bill nicely. But much to my surprise, the apples didn't result in the dish being too sweet; instead, they actually diminished the foie's potency, which I appreciated--they were really the key to this course for me.


7: Grilled ostrich tenderloin "Rossini" | with pear, truffle, cauliflower, sunchokes, and foie gras
2007 Turley Zinfandel, Juvenile
This was only my third time having ostrich, and my first in California (both other times were in Colorado, at The Warehouse in Colorado Springs then at Mizuna in Denver). The cut this time was the so-called fan filet from the inner thigh, the most tender, choicest cut of the bird. It looked remarkably like beef, and flavor-wise, it wasn't too far off either--a leaner consistency than beef, with a touch of gaminess--some have compared it to bison. In any case, the ostrich was quite delicious on its own, and while the foie wasn't absolutely necessary, it did add some fat to the bird.


8: Wood grilled California squab | warm truffled wild mushroom salad, pea tendrils, and artichoke puree
2003 Cobblestone Estate Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon, Napa
Squab generally pleases me, and this was certainly no exception. The wood-grilling gave the bird a delectable smoky, wild flavor that I really enjoyed. The squab's depth was superbly countered by the tangy pea tendrils, while the mushrooms added a great earthiness to the amalgam. Very nice.


9: New Zealand elk tenderloin | with celery root, sweet potato, crispy bacon, arugula, currants, and sauce chasseur
2005 Faust, Cabernet Sauvignon, Napa
Elk is definitely not something I nom on regularly; the last time I had it was about a year ago at Studio at the Montage. Here, the celery was the ticket, its unique tang appearing on the attack and lingering on the palate, effectively balancing the rustic, toothsome flavor of the meat. I also appreciated the tenderness of the elk, and how the contrasting flavors of the Chasseur and currants worked with it.


10: Deconstructed Black Forest Cake
1985 Warre's Vintage Port
Seemingly taking a page from the Michael Voltaggio playbook, our last dish was a new creation from the chef, his own reimagination of the classic Black Forest cake. Traditionally, the dessert consists of layers of Kirschwasser-kissed chocolate cake, separated with whipped cream and cherries. Horton's deconstruction adds pepper to the black cherries, substitutes vanilla ice cream for the whipped cream, and turns the Kirsch into gelée form. I loved the dense consistency of the cake and its delicately sugary flavor, as well as how it interacted with the cherries, which gave the chocolate a peppery finish. The ice cream, meanwhile, did a great job in tempering the jamminess of the fruit, while adding a cold temperature contrast as well. The final piece of the puzzle was the gelée, which added a fitting textural contrast, and gave the dessert a bit of an alcoholic burn on the finish. Overall, a great dessert that really captured the essence of Black Forest cake.

Coming into Saddle Peak, I'll admit that I was expecting big cuts of game, questionably dressed in heavy, overly-saccharine sauces. However, what I got was so much more than that. The young chef (just 26) has livened up the game-centric menu with all that he's gathered from his experiences and travels. The end result is cuisine that's surprisingly refined--inventive, creative, and adventurous tastes and techniques appear in flashes of brilliance--while still remaining true to the Lodge's rustic roots. It's unfortunate that Michelin chose to leave this year, as I think Horton would've had a good shot at earning that étoile back.

Muse (Beverly Hills, CA)

Muse
225 N Canon Dr, Beverly Hills, CA 90210
310.860.7800
www.montagebeverlyhills.com/beverly-hills-fine-dining.php
Fri 10/09/2009, 08:10p-12:10a



Muse at The Montage Beverly Hills, we hardly knew ye.

Muse didn't even last a year. It was to be the premium dining room at the gleaming new Montage, a step up from the more casual (but still fancy) eatery Parq. The man in charge of both places was Executive Chef John Cuevas, who joined Montage Beverly Hills after a four-year stint as Chef de Cuisine of The Loft at the hotel's Orange County outpost. Before his tenure at The Loft, Cuevas helped open Studio, Montage Laguna Beach's signature restaurant (now helmed by Craig Strong, formerly of The Dining Room).

The San Diego native's zest for cooking stemmed from his grandfather as well as his mother, who owned a small restaurant. Cuevas started out working the front-of-the-house at Loews Coronado Resort before moving to the kitchen, and afterwards, went on to receive his formal culinary education at Arizona's Scottsdale Culinary Institute. After graduation, Cuevas found himself at the well-regarded Mary Elaine's at The Phoenician, where he helped garner five-star ratings from both Mobil and the AAA. Southern California beckoned, however, and lured Cuevas back to Dana Point, where he worked at Motif restaurant at the St. Regis Monarch Beach resort (home to Stonehill Tavern). He began his career with The Montage shortly thereafter.

Cuevas clearly can cook, and created a menu of modern American fare for Muse, seasonal and simply-prepared, putting new twists on familiar elements. I don't think that the problem was with the food. For starters, Muse had the grave misfortunate of opening on the same day as José Andrés' hotly-anticipated The Bazaar. Guess which one people went to? (hint: the one that rhymes with au revoir) Furthermore, I don't think that the restaurant's PR people did much to bring customers in, or to convince the Canon Drive dining crowd (Spago, Mastro's, Enoteca Drago, Wolfgang's) to eat at a new hotel restaurant. Muse was largely invisible, even in the eyes of the City's food cognoscenti.

Whatever the cause, the end result is that Muse as we know it is no longer. We were told by the staff that Friday the 9th was their last day of service, and thus we were their last table, ever. From now on, the space will be used for large parties, an extension of Parq, so to speak. Muse's menu will disappear, though remnants may show up on the more casual restaurant's carte. The official reason for the closure was that business needs dictated that the space would be better suited for the large number of private events that the hotel hosts, but honestly I suspect that it was because bookings were down (...like the economy).


Muse is situated inside the new Montage Beverly Hills, a 201-room luxury hotel located in the heart of Beverly Hills. Parking is available on the street if you can find it, but valet somehow seems so much more appropriate (and is complementary with validation).


Above, we see the intimate dining room, seating just 44 guests. The space is classic, refined, replete with oodles of dark mahogany, dimly lit, set off by crisp white linen. There's also a private dining room for 20, as well as an adjoining bar and balcony.


Upon being seated, we asked for the drink menu, shown above. Click for larger versions.


Interestingly, we ended up with three cocktails, all from the "old-fashioned" section of the list. I went with the Absinthe Sunrise (orange and pomegranate, kübler) [$14], just because you don't see many cocktails with absinthe; think Tequila Sunrise, but with an herbal twang. I also tried the Rusty Nail (peat and honey, laphroaig ten year) [$17], very hot and peaty with just a touch of sweetness from the honey, as well as the Caliente Caipirinha (jalapeño and watermelon, ypioca) [$14], sweet and sour with a bit of lingering spice.


Muse's menu of "urbane American cuisine" is shown above; click for larger versions. We each went with the six-course Summer Seasonal Menu at $105, plus $60 for appropriate beverage pairings. Seasonal a la carte selections are also available, and we supplemented our tasting menus with six additional courses.


We were provided a choice of three breads: a savory miche with caramelized onion and Pecorino, a mild milk bread, and a crispy lavash.


Amuse Bouche: Pineapple-Blueberry Soup
For an amuse, a shot glass of pineapple and blueberry soup came topped with a frothy cardamom foam. The aromatic smack of the herb was apparent on the attack, with the sugary fruit coming in later, leading to a long, saccharine finish.


1: House-Made Tagliatelle | maitake and parmesan, burnt butter
Gary Farrell, Chardonnay, Russian River, 2006
The pasta itself was tasty, though a bit plain, quite edible on its own but delicious with the mushrooms, which added just the right amount of weight, just the right amount of earthiness to the dish. The cheese, meanwhile, did provide some tang of its own, but for me, it served as more of a textural element.


Supplement 1: Consommé of Wild Mushrooms [$16.00] | charred pineapple and tarragon
Unfortunately, the mushrooms here weren't nearly as successful. The consommé was light in body, and possessed a flavor rich in umami; we compared its sapor to that of ramen broth! Though four types of mushroom were used--portobello, porcini, chanterelle, lobster mushroom--their flavor seemed muddled and indistinct, leaving me unfulfilled. The pineapple was similarly invisible.


Supplement 2: Poached Organic Ranch Egg [$18.00] | creamed leek and crispy pork belly, parmesan
The ranch egg was a big bounce up from the weak consommé, and ended up as arguably my favorite course of the night. The egg was the star of the show for me, providing an enveloping creaminess that enrobed the rich, salty pork belly in its goodness, while the leek provided a vegetal counterbalance. One of my dining companions described this as "bacon and eggs," commenting on its breakfast-like flair.


2: Salad of Heirloom Tomatoes | baby basil and smoked oil, citrus
Emeritus, Pinot Noir, Russian River, 2006
I loved the presentation of this dish, set in a canning jar; I don't think I've ever seen anything like it before. Fortunately, the contents of said jar were quite delectable as well. The tomatoes were some of the juiciest I've had, with a pleasing tanginess that went beautifully with the icy chunks of sweet citrus granita as well as the savory olive oil. A clean, refreshing course with light, bright flavors.


Supplement 3: Rice Noodles [$22.00] | spiced kimchi and chorizo, garlic
I'm used to having kimchi cool, so the lukewarm presentation here was an interesting change of pace. The temperature seemed to temper the tang of the fermented cabbage, but the kimchi was still plenty powerful to counter the mild, dense, chewy cylinders of rice noodle Though chorizo is strongly flavored in its own right, here it played second fiddle to the kimchi. Overall, quite good.


Supplement 4: Maine Diver Sea Scallop [$24.00] | roasted corn and braised bacon, popcorn
Next came a duet of perfectly cooked scallops, their subtly sweet/briny flavor accented by a superb sear. The bacon added a touch of salt to things, while the corn formed a surprisingly effective accession to the bivalve's natural sweetness. The popcorn and corn "paper," however, were there mostly for texture. Very nice.


3: Sashimi of Australian Suzuki | kimchi and aged soy, golden apples
Sake, Pride of the Village, Junmai Ginjo
Suzuki translates roughly to "sea bass," and is a pretty rare species to be found, even at sushi restaurants. Here it had a firm, supple body and mild sapor that went marvelously with the bit of soy provided. Eaten with the kimchi however, the fish's flavor was dominated, turning the suzuki into more of a textural centerpiece, though this effect was somewhat tempered by the apple. A note about the sake: though the menu stated Pride of the Village, I believe we were actually served the Watari Bune Junmai Ginjo instead.


Supplement 5: Roasted La Belle Farms Foie Gras [$28.00] | creamed onion soup and gruyère, bruschetta
Regular readers will know that I usually take issue with seared foie gras being too sweet. Amazingly, the preparation here was actually too salty, too powerful for my tastes. Pairing it with the bread, thus, was a necessity. The soup, which one of my dining companions compared to "gravy," was similarly savory, and although tasty enough on its own, the pairing with the foie didn't quite click with me.


Supplement 6: Pan-Seared New Zealand John Dory [$38.00] | cured lemon and soft basil, burnt butter
John Dory isn't a fish that I have too often. The example here was lean, flaky, firm yet pliant, with a mouthwatering, if somewhat blunt flavor, and beautifully crisp skin. I appreciated how the tanginess of lemon was used to moderate the fish. The Dory came with a plate of asparagus, which I thought was a bit odd, though I did enjoy the contrast provided by the vegetable's bitter smack.


4: Filet of Creekstone Natural Beef | pickled ramps and smoked mushrooms, red wine
Testamatta, Bibi Graetz, Tuscany, 2003
It's been a while since I've had a good filet mignon, so this was a nice change of pace. I was, however, surprised at the large portion (for a tasting menu). Cooked medium, it had a textbook tenderloin texture and a perfect char, not too fatty, but with good flavor. I actually preferred to eat the meat by itself, as I found the sauce a bit distracting.


5: Delice de Pommard | whole grain mustard
Lindemans, Cassis Lambic, Belgium
A fascinating fromage, the Delice comes from the village of Pommard in Burgundy. It is a soft, triple-crème, goat's milk cheese coated in mustard seed. This gave it a delightfully tangy, spicy flavor that rendered the included mustard redundant.


6: Rice Milk Ice Cream | sour cherry and citrus nougat, pistachio
Hitachino, White Ale
Oh the irony! This was one of the best desserts I've had in recent memory, and I forget to snap a picture of it; thanks to Ryan for providing the photo above. Think of this as an ice cream cake of sorts, one with gorgeous flavors of rice and vanilla, contrasted perfectly by the tart cherry, and accented beautifully by the nutty pistachio and sour nougat. Excellent.


Not content to end here, we decided to augment our meal with a couple more creations from Pastry Chef Maren Henderson. Click for larger versions.


Supplement 7: Crisp Sourdough Waffle [$15.00] | black cherry and mascarpone, balsamic caramel
Quite simply, this was one of the best waffles I've ever had. Perfectly constructed with a crisp exterior hiding a sweet, soft inside, its berry topping lent a tart flavor to the dessert that was deftly countered by the mascarpone and caramel--a superlative study in contrasting flavors, textures, and temperatures.


Supplement 8: Cinnamon Toast Ice Cream [$15.00] | boysenberry gelee and candied brioche, thyme
When I saw this dessert on the menu, I instantly thought of my favorite cereal, Cinnamon Toast Crunch. And indeed, it did not disappoint. The ice cream really captured the essence of the cereal, and together with the finger of brioche, formed a superb combination of sweet and spicy. Meanwhile, the shawl of gelée draped over the brioche did an admirable job in balancing the cinnamon with its rich, jammy, boysenberry flavors. Quite good.


We finished with a plate of chocolates: caramel-coconut brownies, peanut butter crèmes, and housemade "Tootsie Rolls." Sadly, this was it, the last plate of food ever served by Muse.


After chatting a bit with Sommelier Mark Hefter, we left Muse, and walked by the 88-seat Parq, an elegantly casual space serving three meals a day. Really, though some of Muse's food will make it on the menu here, Parq is no replacement.

So with that, we left Muse at The Montage sated and satisfied, happy from the good eats, but a bit saddened knowing that we'll never be able to come back. Muse just never got off to a good start, so in a way, its demise comes as no surprise. After returning home, I sent off a tip to Eater LA about Muse's closure, since it hadn't been reported anywhere else. I got back a thanks from editor Kat Odell, but there was nary a mention on the site--I think that about sums it up.

The Tasting Kitchen (Los Angeles, CA)

The Tasting Kitchen
1633 Abbot Kinney Blvd, Los Angeles, CA 90291
310.392.6644
www.thetastingkitchen.com
Wed 10/07/2009, 07:10p-11:15p



The story of The Tasting Kitchen begins with the story of a Swede: Conny Andersson. Chef Andersson opened up AK Restaurant + Bar, his Swedish-tinged eatery on Abbot Kinney, in November 2008. However, despite good press and solid business, Andersson shuttered AK in June of this year, due to "creative differences" with the restaurant's owners. Andersson is currently looking for another location in Southern California to reintroduce AK.

After that debacle, AK's owners were in search of a new chef, and found him in the form of Casey Lane, an alum of Clarklewis restaurant in Portland (despite what Sherry says, Lane never worked at Oliveto in Oakland under Paul Bertolli). Once Lane got the job, the former Texan brought over some of his pals from Clarklewis, including front-of-the-house manager-cum-sommelier Maxwell Leer. Lane and his team were to implement a temporary restaurant concept: a "tasting kitchen" based on a small, daily-changing, farm-to-table menu incorporating seasonal, local produce. A completely new restaurant was to debut in the fall, but The Tasting Kitchen has proven rather successful, and is here to stay, at least for the time being. Rumors abound, however, that the somewhat clunky name will change once the restaurant goes through a light remodel.

My meal at The Tasting Kitchen was made possible by Jai, a reader of this blog who just happens to know the sous chef, Dylan Hallas (who previously cooked with Top Chef-ers Michael Voltaggio and Marcel Vigneron over at The Bazaar). The two met while teaching cooking classes for the Southeast Asian Community Alliance, and are currently working with the group to build a community garden in Lincoln Heights. Joining us were Bobby, Cory, Sissy from the SEACA, and Tim.


The Tasting Kitchen resides on a popular stretch of Abbot Kinney in Venice, right next door to Wabi-Sabi and a stone's throw away from Gjelina. If you look closely at the last photo, you can see the screw holes in the concrete previously used to hold up the letters "AK;" the current signage does look temporary indeed. Parking can be tricky in the area, so consider the valet for $5.



Inside, you'll find a lively (some would say noisy), cozy, contemporary space--big windows with a view of a small bamboo forest, a snazzy fireplace, high ceilings, and loads upon loads of wood. The downstairs is bisected into a main dining area (above), as well as a bar with communal seating (below). For a more toned down experience, an upstairs room is available as well. A word to photographers: lighting can be pretty atrocious, and only got worse as the night progressed. At the end of the dinner, I resorted to hoarding candles, and even then, my exposures at ISO1600 and f2.0 were in the 1/6s-1/10s range.


The first thing that you'll notice about the menu is the large number painted on the cover; this signifies the day of service. We were on #86, but since I forgot to take a copy of the menu home, the menu shown above is #88 (thanks to Jai for picking up a copy and scanning it for me). The bill of fare is written daily, influenced by ingredients gathered from three local farmers markets. The food is fairly eclectic, a motley mix of French, Italian, Moroccan, and Spanish flavors creating a wide selection of dishes that simultaneously seem familiar, yet fascinating. Rather than ordering from the carte, we went for the off-menu tasting menu, priced at $55 per person. The drink menu reflects the sensibilities of the food, and The Tasting Kitchen offers up a reasonably-priced selection of cocktails and wines by the glass. Leer seems to be particularly fond of Italians, specifically obscure ones, and favors listing grape varietals but not producers on the brief wine list. Click for larger versions.


The entire party started with the restaurant's signature cocktail: the Ersatt (brandy, swedish punsch, lime, whites) [$11]. The word is derived from ersatz, which is Germanic in origin and roughly translates to "replacement," as in TTK replacing AK--spiffy. The drink, fortunately, was quite delicious, concurrently tart and sweet, with a slight frothiness and just a hint of alcoholic burn.


Bread, apparently sourced from Nancy Silverton's La Brea Bakery, was quick to arrive on our table. Butter, meanwhile, was sweet, soft, spreadable, and supremely scrumptious.


1: Chicken liver crostone, poached farm egg, frisée, warm bacon vinaigrette
We started off with one of my favorite courses of the night. The combination of toast, liver, salty lardons, and light frisee was superb, a near-perfect amalgam of flavors and textures tied together by the overarching creaminess of the egg. The chicken liver, meanwhile, made its presence known in a long, lingering finish. Superb.


2: Oysters, beau-soleil, cabernet mignonette
Next were a half dozen Beau Soleil oysters hailing from New Brunswick, Canada. They were just the kind I like: crisp, firm yet snappy, sweet with a slight brine--delicious on their own but well accented by the tangy mignonette. Be careful not to add too much sauce though, or you'll overwhelm the mollusk's natural flavor.


Tim was kind enough to bring a bottle of the 2006 Joseph Drouhin Bourgogne Laforet, a light, easy-drinking Burgundy with plenty of refreshing fruit character, bright acidity, and a minerally, slightly-tannic finish. Delicious.


3: Bruschetta, balsamic roasted figs, goat cheese, walnuts, aged balsamic
This dish was not very photogenic unfortunately. Nevertheless, the key for me here was the goat cheese, its tangy, creamy essence playing foil to the marked sweetness of the balsamic and figs. At the same time, the walnuts provided a nice nutty component while giving the bruschetta a well-placed crunch. However, I would've preferred more cheese and less figs, as the course was a bit too sweet for me.


4: rillettes, pork, pickles, mustard, toast
Here we have the oft-lauded pork rillettes, basically pork slow-cooked in fat and shredded, served here with whole-grain mustard, pickled haricot verts, and of course, toast. This was one of the highlights for me; I really loved the rillettes' distinctly porcine taste, which was at the same time subtle yet profound. I could've eaten the meat by itself, but the tanginess of the mustard and pickles did offset the gravitas of the pork, and having it with the bread was immensely enjoyable to say the least.


5: pate, campagnola, accompaniments
Another similar pork-y preparation was the country-style pork pâté. Flavor-wise, it was somewhat similar to the rillettes, but lighter and less fatty, and was completely different in terms of texture obviously--rustic and gritty. Since it was more delicate in taste, with a subtle spice, I preferred to use less mustard here, and eating it with the untoasted bread was phenomenal.


6: Scallops, parsnip puree, chanterelles, hen of the woods mushrooms
Following were a duet of perfectly cooked scallops, done up to a firm yet springy consistency, with a flavor that was still subtly sweet with a great caramelized twang. I appreciated the use here of two types of mushrooms, which added an earthy depth to the comparatively mild bivalves. The parsnip, meanwhile, contributed a contrasting vegetal element to the dish. Very nice.


7: Mussels, fresh flageolet beans, fennel pollen, calabrian salsa
This was one of the better preparations of mussels I've had in a while. Subtly briny in sapor, they were complemented beautifully by their bitter/tangy vegetable accoutrements, and the flageolet beans in particular. The bread, though not absolutely necessary, did go nicely with the mussels.


8: Live urchin, abruzzan olive oil, lemon, sea salt
I was a bit afraid that the various accompaniments here would completely dominate the sweet flavor of the uni, but rather, the lemon, olive oil, and salt highlighted the urchin's natural savor, making it a great topping for bread.


At the urging of Maxwell, Jai ordered up an Italian Pinot Noir to compare to the Burgundy we just had: the 2006 Les Crêtes Valle d'Aosta Pinot Noir Vigne La Tour [$48]. This one was much more in-your-face I thought, with considerably more fruit on the nose, and more minerality on the palate. The overall effect was of a more rustic, weightier, more decadent wine.


9: Green beans, burrata, prosciutto, hazelnuts
Here, we have green and yellow beans studded with hazelnut bits, atop a dollop of burrata enrobed in a veil of Prosciutto. The flavors worked together--the mild tanginess of the cheese intertwined with the salty ham, perked up by the sweet/nutty beans. Very good.


10: Butter lettuce, pt. reyes blue, tarragon cream
I really enjoyed the lettuce itself--crisp, refreshing, pure--as well as the crunchy croutons and the use of a cheese topping. However, I thought that the dressing was somewhat heavy-handed, rendering the salad too sweet.


11: Endive salad, apples, blue cheese, mustard vinaigrette
This next salad was much more successful. I loved the interaction between the slightly bitter endive and the juicy, sweet apple, elevated even further by the overarching tang of the blue cheese topping, which was especially prominent on the finish.


At this point, Jai and I decided to order up another round of cocktails. I chose The Comeback (spiced rum, ginger soda, bitters) [$11], named after a former speakeasy ("Comeback Inn") that used to occupy the site of the restaurant; the drink was notable for its lingering spicy finish, which left my lips tingling. Jai had the Bluebird (bourbon, blueberry clove, citrus, bitters) [$11], which was sweet, creamy, and delicious, with just a bit of burn.


12: Black cod, beluga lentils, market beets, salsa rustica
I'm not huge on black cod, but courses like this are definitely helping me come around. I appreciated its soft, flaky consistency and mildly oily body, along with its rich flavor and savory skin. Taking the dish to another level were the beluga lentils, their robust, earthy flavor proving to be a fantastic foil to the fish. I could've done without the beets though.


13: Roast hen, flageolet beans, feta salsa verde
Textbook roasted chicken: juicy, tender, flavorful, with an immensely flavorful skin--I enjoyed gnawing on my wing. My favorite part of this dish, however, were the flageolets, which, along with the tangy salsa verde, formed a perfect accompaniment to the bird.


14: Grilled orata, forbidden rice, olive relish
This was my first time with orata (a.k.a. daurade or gilt-head bream), a highly prized food fish native to the Mediterranean that's especially sought after in Italy. It was prepared in a manner that seemed to recall that other famous Italian fish, branzino. The similarities were more than cosmetic: starkly white flesh, a fine, soft texture, slightly dry but with a bit of fat, clean yet quite savory, though not as heavy as branzino. I rather liked it.


15: Halibut, fresh cranberry beans, vermouth butter, stewed lettuce
Our third and final fish was halibut. They must've saved the best for last, as this was arguably my favorite course of the entire meal. The fish was expertly cooked to a very pleasing texture--flaky, firm yet yielding--with a taste that was delicate and mild, yet profound. The combination of halibut, weighty beans, and tangy sauce formed a perfectly balanced, delicious complex. Excellent.


16: Flatiron steak, fingerling potatoes, padron peppers, chimichurri
In the midst of all this wagyu rage, this is proof that steak doesn't have to be obscenely marbled to be delicious. Deftly cooked to a lovely consistency, the meat wasn't overly tender, but rather possessed a nice, juicy chew. We enjoyed a good amount of pure, savory beef flavor accented by a great char and a superb chimichurri condiment.


17: Grilled pork loin, grilled ribs, bacon, pork tail, escarole, apple sauce
This porcine platter consisted of a quartet of pork: tenderloin, belly, ribs, and tail (which I didn't get to try). I first tasted the belly, which was akin to a smoky bacon--hard to go wrong with this. Next were the ribs, basically a barbeque presentation, a nice interplay between sweet and savory. Last and unfortunately least was the tenderloin, which had too much of a sugary/spicy component for me, drawing attention away from the pork's natural sapor.


And with that, we were off to dessert. Though Jai had Port on his mind, Maxwell thought otherwise, and brought out a troika of sweet wines for us to tipple. First was the 1987 Attilio Contini Vernaccia di Oristano Riserva from Sardinia. This was a Sherry-like wine, dry and nutty with a bright acidity. Number two was my favorite of the trio, the 1996 Tiberini Vin Santo di Montepulciano Occhio di Pernice, which was notable not only for its intensely sweet and subtly nutty flavor, but for its extremely limited availability (no results on either WineZap or Wine-Searcher). Finally, we had the 1948 Primitivo Quiles Alicante Fondillon Gran Reserva Solera, a lovely Port- or Madeira-esque wine showing surprisingly fresh notes of raisin over a slighty woody backbone.


18: Blueberry jelly turnover, lemon curd, ice cream
Our first dessert was a turnover-like pastry, filled with a heavy, jammy berry filling. I appreciated how the ice cream tempered its flavor, while the pastry's flaky, crispy exterior provided some textural variation.


19: Semifreddo, pistachio
This next dessert was fantastic, easily my favorite of the group. Think of the semifreddo as a half-frozen ice cream, but lighter and fluffier. It had a sweet, but not overly sugary flavor that was perfectly accented by the use of pistachios, giving the combination a scrumptious, sweet-nutty smack.


20: Bread pudding, caramel
Finally was bread pudding, soft and supremely saccharine, with a bit of fruitiness as well. Tasty, but the caramel was a touch strong for me.


21: Wings, apple cider glazed
SIV's review of The Tasting Kitchen came out on the day of our visit, and in it, she raved about the chicken wings. Naturally, we had to try some for ourselves. Irene called them "sticky and delicious," and while I don't argue with the sticky part, I found the wings a bit too sweet for my tastes, though once I got past the skin, I did enjoy the savory meat.


To pair with the wings, Maxwell poured us a couple glasses of the 2007 Donati Camillo Dolce Malvasia dell'Emilia IGT [$15]. It was almost cider-like in nature, sweet and drinkable with a mild effervescence and lots of spicy-citrus notes. Quite delicious.

We left The Tasting Kitchen full and sated, with no desire to go to the Nom Nom truck up the street at The Brig (which Tim had proposed earlier in the night). Certainly, not every dish was a hit (not surprising given the velocity of menu turnover), but I do appreciate what Lane and company are doing here. The food here is unpretentious, honest, informal, and profoundly uncomplicated--sometimes conventional, sometimes unpredictable, but nearly always fun. Let's hope that The Tasting Kitchen outlives its predecessor, and more importantly, maintains the same level of energy and execution once the new name and new digs come around.

Totoraku (Los Angeles, CA) [2]

Totoraku
10610 W Pico Blvd, Los Angeles, CA 90064
www.fooddigger.com/RestaurantDetail.aspx?id=20998 (FoodDigger, restaurant has no web site)
Sat 10/03/2009, 07:00p-10:15p



Is Totoraku (a.k.a. Teriyaki House Pico, or simply "secret beef restaurant") LA's toughest reservation? I'd say so. Walk up and try to open the door, and you'll find it locked. Give them a call, and you'll likely only get an answering machine with chef/owner Kaz Oyama's voice. The machine, though, is key. Leave a message with your details, and maybe you'll get a call back from Oyama-san's wife Shizumi, if you're deemed to be "in the know," that is. Officially, you'll only be granted the ability to make a reservation if you've been to Totoraku prior (though some unscrupulous individuals have scammed their way in), which means initially, you have to get someone with "the card" to bring you. Thus, you understand the dilemma here--the City's best yakiniku remains elusive.

The solution to this quandary, at least for one of my readers (who wishes to remain anonymous), was to sponsor a Totoraku meal for me, in return for the chance to dine here with his wife. I originally wanted to make this a group event, with prominent LA-area bloggers in attendance, but said reader desired a more intimate affair, to maximize his exposure to Oyama-san. This was understandable (sorry everyone).


Upon arriving at our table, we were greeted by a trio of dipping sauces: soy, lemon juice, and a sweet tare. Our servers would tell us which sauce to use with each course; however, the meats were easily good enough to stand on their own.


We arrived a bit early, and ordered a bottle Calpico (an uncarbonated drink with a yogurt-esque flavor) to wet our whistles. In addition to the Calpico, Totoraku also offers a selection of your typical soft drinks, but lacks a liquor license, hence...


Oyama-san is an avid wineaux (with a particular penchant for great vintage Bordeaux, Burgundy, and Champagne), so I'd advise you to leave your pink Yellow Tail at home. My reader was gracious enough to contribute two top-flight tipples.

First up was the 1982 Château Certan de May, a birth year wine for me from one of the finest houses in Pomerol. Despite an uncooperative cork, I do not hesitate in calling the Certan one of the finest wines I've ever tasted, impressive in its profound depth and clarity, showing beautiful notes of spice, chocolate, dark berry, and coffee over a silky, every-so-slightly tannic backbone. Oyama-san eagerly agreed with this assessment. After sampling the wine, he was positively beaming, gleeful even, and kept raving about the Certan throughout the night--it was glaringly obvious that Oyama-san was truly impressed. With this one bottle, my reader's ability to return was secured.

We decanted the 2001 Sloan for nearly an hour before consuming, and comparing it to the Bordeaux was a night-and-day experience. The Sloan was a much more robust, much bolder, much more in-your-face wine, with an absolutely intoxicating nose of currant and chocolate. These flavors continued onto the palate, joined by subtle hints of meat and tobacco, finishing strong with a tannic bite. A lovely wine, but one that could use a bit more time in the bottle.


1: Amuse Bouche Assortment
Our meal began with a selection of nine appetizers, to be shared amongst us:

• Sockeye Salmon - Salmon stuffed with avocado and sprouts, wrapped in soba. There was a nice interplay going on here between the salmon and the creamy avocado and tangy sprouts, though I would've liked bigger pieces to better explore the flavors.
• Alaskan King Crab Gelée - The crab itself was sweet as expected, with the gelatin acting as a sort of glue that bound the pieces together. What was fascinating though was that the gelée had a distinct spicy finish that slowly built up on my palate.
• Prosciutto di Parma and Cantaloupe - Lovely. The prosciutto was suitably savory, and was balanced nicely by the sweet, juicy melon.
• Asparagus and Sweet Walnuts - An interesting contrast existed here between the bitter, delicate asparagus and sweet, nutty walnuts.
• Seared Albacore - Deftly cooked albacore, heightened by a bit of spice and a crisp, vegetal wrapper.
• Quail Egg with Caviar - Some egg-on-egg action: always a good decision. I loved how the salty, briny tang of the roe penetrated the subtle gravity of the egg.
• Ankimo - A superb presentation of ankimo, with the liver's richness tempered by the crisp cucumber and light, tart gelée.
• Steamed Abalone - My favorite of the nonet. The abalone had a wondrous texture, just tough enough, yet yielding. Its flavor, meanwhile, was simultaneously sweet yet smoky. It was served with zenmai (Japanese royal fern), which had a pleasing crunch of its own.
• Shrimp and Matsutake - Perfectly cooked shrimp, elevated by the delicate earthiness of matsutake mushrooms.

2: Beef Tongue Carpaccio
This was the sole dish that I didn't have on my last visit to Totoraku. The tongue was sliced appropriately thin, giving the meat a surprisingly tender consistency that barely required mastication. The carpaccio was livened up by the application of scallion, which deftly complemented the beef with its bitter tang, as well as some sort of tart sauce (ponzu perhaps?). Very nice.


3: Beef Ribeye Tataki & Beef Throat Sashimi
Following came a duet of barely-touched beef. First was the tataki, done up with a lovely char that provided a savory contrast to the meat's mild interior. This was even better when paired with a bit of grated ginger. The throat sashimi (of two cows, apparently) was more interesting, with a great, crunchy texture and a subtle flavor that was superbly accented by soy and scallion.


4: Beef Tartare
Our final raw course was Oyama-san's interpretation of yukhoe, or Korean beef tartare. Though rump steak is usually used for this dish, I'm not sure what was employed here. Nevertheless, it came with a number of accoutrements, including raw quail egg, daikon, cucumber, pine nuts, and Japanese pear. I proceeded to mix up the various items into one absolutely ambrosial amalgamation, one of the best tartares I've ever had in fact. I loved the multi-faceted interaction between the savory beef, the tang of the veggies, and the overarching sweetness of the pear--superb.


And with that, it was time for the gauntlet of grilled gyu to get going. Fired by binchotan charcoal, the grill cooks quickly, so be sure not to overdo your meat, lest you be chided by Shizumi-san!


5: Tongue
To the uninitiated, tongue (tan) may sound unappetizing, but it was actually one of the highlights of the meal for me. Totoraku's was a quintessential example: topped with scallion and salt & pepper, stupendously saporous with an almost foie gras-esque aftertaste, heightened by a delightfully rubbery yet yielding texture. As good as the tongue was on its own, it was even better when paired with a dash of the included lemon juice.


6: Filet Mignon
Here we have some generous chunks of filet mignon, paired with peppers, onions, bell peppers, and mushrooms. Compared to the tongue, the filet was much more subtle in flavor, lean and gossamer in its beefiness, brightened up with a touch of soy. Grilled rare, the meat was nearly melt-in-your-mouth--I wish I would've remembered to try some raw!


7: Crudités
Along with the filet came an assortment of raw veggies, helpful in tempering the weight of all this meat. First up was a bowl of lettuce, cabbage, carrots, cucumber, and radish, served with a sweet miso dip. Next were Momotaro tomatoes, some of the juiciest, sweetness tomatoes I've had--we asked for seconds.


8: Outside Rib Eye
We now move on to the more marbled meats. Outside rib eye is also known as rib eye cap, and vis-à-vis the filet, it was far more luxurious, richer, fattier, oiler, and stronger in savor--an escalation from the tenderloin to the sure. No sauce was necessary here; the included salt & pepper did a great job in elevating the beef's flavor.


9: Inside Rib Eye
Compared to the outside rib eye, the inside version was slightly chewier and not quite as decadent. Flavor-wise, the beef came with its own marinade, which did an admirable job in complementing the meat's flavor while not overwhelming it. However, I must say that I preferred the outside.


10: Short Rib
Next was karubi, Japan's interpretation of the omnipresent Korean kalbi short ribs. This, however, was different in that it was served sans bone, and was far less marinated. The result was a less heavy-handed meat, more refined than galbi with a perfect ratio of lean to fat, blessed with just a touch of sweetness and a supremely tender consistency.


11: Skirt Steak
Our final cut was harami, or skirt steak, from the underside of the steer. Though it's often known as a tough but tasty cut of meat, Oyama-san's version was suitable tender, with a enchantingly beefy, yet lean and light flavor.


12: Kuppa Soup
Our final savory course of the night was this spicy egg and seaweed soup, a derivative of Korean gukbap ("rice soup"). It was a heartwarming concoction with a nice bit of spice, thanks to the use of Chinese chilies.


13: Ice Creams and Sorbets
Dessert at Totoraku consists of your choice of ice creams and sorbets, which I suspect are housemade. We had one of each flavor: pistachio ice cream, espresso ice cream, white chocolate/raspberry ice cream, lychee sorbet, blueberry sorbet. My favorites were the pistachio (replete with bits of the nut), white chocolate, and lychee.

The price for this bovine overload? $135 per person, sans tip and tax. You might suspect that some of the cost is associated with the exclusivity of the place, and you'd probably be right. But keep in mind that, in terms of yakiniku or Korean BBQ, I've had no better than at Totoraku (even Urasawa-san agrees with me on this point). The fact that the place has been open for 10 years (with no advertising, actively turning away customers in fact) attests to that. I don't know if it's the source of the beef (not wagyu, by the way), or the way Oyama-san prepares it, but the quality of the meat is simply a cut above. This isn't an everyday, everyweek, or even everymonth place; it's an experience, one of the most unique in the City. If you ever have the chance to worship at this temple of beef, jump on it.