SON OF A GUN, WEST HOLLYWOOD

I was warned that I would find it too noisy at 'Son of a Gun'. At my first visit yesterday, I not only found it too loud, but annoyingly loud. I was simply impossible to have a conversation with my dining partner. Not that I have the desire of eating out in a church-like atmosphere, I like lively, but too much is too much. What's the point of having dinner with a friend if you cannot communicate and end up screaming at each other? I should have counted how many times I shouted 'what did you say?'. Unfortunately, we had lost our reserved table and had to sit at the communal table, because we were twenty minutes late. But I doubt, that it would have been much better at a smaller table.

I could have been appeased by great food, and was excited to be at seafood place, a rare thing in L.A. But unfortunately, the culinary mastery was limited. I felt like having been served home-cooked dishes by a bachelor who tries to impress a girl, but lacks experience and technique. We both went for the citrus salad, avocado, fennel, arugula, as a starter. There were lots of sliced citrus fruits like grapefruit and oranges, but so little avocado and arugula that I felt tempted to ask for a magnifying glass, and the fennel was completely missing. Too much citrus, guys! Way out of balance. This is not supposed to be fruit salad dessert. At least the seasoning was subtle and enhanced the flavors nicely.

After that we had mussels, Pernod, tarragon, fennel, toast. Those poor mussels were drowning in a thick, creamy, uniform tasting sauce. Where was the lemony-licory scent of tarragon? The anise-like taste of Pernod? Was there any starch mixed into the sauce for it too be so thick? And why salt the sauce generously when mussels have a natural salt content? And please don't make that toast so greasy! I would have liked the menu to mention the cream sauce, since I expected a light, mediterranean wine sauce. Ok, I could have asked, but it did not occur to me. It's always good to be given a lot of information to be able to make the right choice.

We also tried the Idaho trout, carrot, potato, caper dill butter. It was dry, boring and tasteless. Did they mention a caper dill butter on the menu? What can I say? Uninspired? Lazy? Do-not-care?

We gave the desserts a try and went for the frozen lime yogurt, graham crumble, toasted meringue. The yogurt lacked creaminess and was too sweet, but otherwise the dessert was ok and perfectly sized, the toasted meringue even very good.

As for beverages, I had a glass of 'Crémant du Jura' a sparkling wine from the French Jura region. I usually like the light Crémant, but the one served at 'Son of a Gun' was bad, real bad. Flat and tasting like cheap cider. And this for 18 Dollars a glass! My friend's Pinot Noir was good, but the 17 Dollars a glass were also quite steep. 

I liked the concept of serving small portions, for guests to playfully taste different dishes.

Still, my final verdict: the cuisine is too amateurish to be taken seriously.

Nice maritime-theme decor, though.

SUNDAY SUPPER

Sunday Supper at Lucques:

fennel and endive salad with green olives, parsley and meyer lemon cream – absolutely lovely, fresh as it can be (the endives were super crunchy), a wonderful fruity, slightly tangy dressing, amazing green olives

grilled market fish with cauliflower rice and hot saffron-ginger-tomato sauce – perfectly grilled pink snapper, crisp on the outside, very moist in the inside (congratulations), rice and cauliflower is a surprisingly good combination, and the saffron-ginger-tomato sauce was a exciting dance of flavors in the palate.

olive oil cake with candied tangerines, crème fraîche and pistachios – I liked the candies tangerines and the lovely crème fraîche, but wasn't too crazy about the olive oil cake. not because it wasn't well made, but personally I don't like cake for dessert. it would have been a perfect match for an afternoon tea.

clearly at Lucques they deeply care about food and their love for outstanding products is enchanting. too bad the staff was utterly disimpassioned. nothing really to complain about. it just wasn't fun to be around our waitress pulling a face all evening.

MORE INFORMATION, PLEASE!

This week I had dinner at Bastide. Lovely atmosphere, great service, good but not outstanding food. Not good enough for the prices they are asking. But there was something else that started irritating me while studying the menu. I felt that something essential was missing there: information about where the products they use in the kitchen come from. Are the eggs from a happy small flock of chickens raised on a sustainable family farm? Are the vegetables local and organic? Has the  beef grazed on lush green pastures all year long? What's the name of the farm? Where is it located? Why do restaurants in Los Angeles not tell their customers about the provenance of the food on their plates? Knowing about all the horrors of industrial agriculture, I strongly feel that I have the right to know where the food I am going to put in my body comes from. Certainly at a place that surrounds itself with a sophisticated air.

MINI ORGASMS

The other week, I was lamenting the - in my opinion - failed concept of XIV Michael Mina. Now, there is proof that the formula 'big name chef X big name interior designer' can be much more than just a marketing catch. Bazaar, like XIV, a child of the SBE Restaurant Group, and also designed by the omnipresent Philippe Starck - is fabulous! I felt like living the magic of a fun and stylish wonderland.

And the food was right up my alley. I've always loved the concept of tapas, eating tons of small dishes, trying this and then this and this, and oh, maybe that. Chef José Andrés creates small dishes with modern tools of liquid nitrogen and organic emulsifiers, but never gets lost in gimmickry. He wisely keeps his focus on great products, the foundation of every great dish. The results are equally playful and delicious, 'like mini orgasms' as my friend visiting from New York moaned between two tapas dishes. I especially loved the cotton candy foie gras in the shape of a lollipop, the ethereal, airy Philly cheesesteak and the sensual modern/traditional olives.

CECCONI, MY LOVE

I am now a member of the exclusive circle "Friends of Cecconi's". I must have either unknowingly applied for a membership or something. Anyway, I have no idea why they think I am worthy of such an honor, but they mailed me a key chain with their sky blue logo entitling me of a "variety of benefits", including invitations to special events. Whoo hoo! Well, what they got right is that I really like going to the WeHo sister of the London institution. But by no means am I a mover or shaker or one of those very important personalities in town. Thank you, amici at Cecconi's, to make me feel like one for a change! The letter along with the key chain was signed by Marino Monferrato (general manager) and Andrea Cavaliere (executive chef). Sounds like they are real Italians (they are, I checked), and that's great, since they don't have to pretend. And they don't. The menu is clearly Californian, but with an Italian twist, or better, approach, meaning that their focus is on fresh, high-quality market ingredients and a simple preparation. The food is good, plain good. Nothing more, nothing less. Same with the pricing, not cheap, not expensive. There is a casual self-confidence about the whole thing that is truly wonderful. Besides, it is a great place to hang out. After all, the interior design was created by the super talented London-based Martin Brudnizki. That guy just knows how to put things together with an astonishing ease. He always makes me wonder if the first he did after being born, was to redecorate hisnursery.  Cecconi's is sophisticated without any stiffness, stylish and warm. It feels like the better version of home. And even those over the top Hollywood/Beverly Hills types blend in without being an annoying distraction. Last time I had the grilled octopus with lemon, capers and olives. It was light, refreshing and delicious, maybe the octopus could have been a little more tender. As an entrée I went for the Barolo braised short-rib with the truffle mashed potato. Comfort food at its best. I wasn't too crazy about the profiteroles with vanilla ice cream and chocolate sauce. They tasted a little like cardboard, just like those mass produced you find in the freezer at Smart & Final's. And the vanilla ice cream was on the bland side. But hey, nobody is perfect! I still love you, my friends. Woo, I am sooo nice! Isn't it amazing what a little friendship can do?

  

SUSAN FENIGER'S STREET - GREAT CONCEPT, BAD EXECUTION

I was really excited to go to Susan Feniger's Street for dinner with a couple of friends. The concept of world street food in a restaurant setting is intriguing after all, and the smell of exotic spices and unexpected ingredients went straight from the online menu into my nose.

But what a disappointment the real thing was. In a nutshell: the seasoning was totally off, the dishes were either bland or overly salty, the jellies and marmalades, served along with some of them, so loaded with sugar that they virtually killed all the other flavors. For instance, I had the Spinach Varnyky, those small Ukranian dumplings served with sour cream and that horrible sugary acidic lemon marmalade. Please! Also, every single dish was overcooked resulting in food that was either super dry, like the Argentine Ricotta Noquis, that I almost choked on then, or BURNED, yikes!

I know, things can go wrong sometimes, but I really felt that the kitchen staff at STREET has a basic lack of understanding how to treat and prepare food properly, and this is simple street food, for heaven's sake!