Asia AND Cuba both in West Hollywood? Sign me up!

It felt like a dream, driving through the gigantic doors sculpture at the Mondrian last week. The hotel is surreal, as white as a laundry detergent commercial and just as tranquil. The doors leading out to the dining patio were wide open, allowing a breeze to come through the restaurant. Asia de Cuba had been on my overpriced list for sometime, a place I avoided because of the perceived high cost-benefit ratio. I can't speak for the dinner, but I discovered that a relaxing lunch can be just the calm you need in the middle of Los Angeles.

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I started with the black bean and chickpea dumplings in a tomatillo-ginger sauce that tasted vaguely like Indians samosas. I'm not a fan of chickpeas, so maybe the appetizer would have been less lost on someone else. The tempura rock shrimp with black bean aioli, jalepeno aioli and sweet chili sauce were much more delightful. Fried just right, these little morsels had a light tempura coating that worked well with each of the sauces. However, the shrimp themselves were small and didn't taste particularly fresh.


Tempura rock shrimp with three dipping sauces

My entree, as well as the entrees of three of my other coworkers, was the miso cured Alaskan butterfish with black bean edamame salad and tempura shisito peppers. The salad was amusing, the green and black colors playing nicely off each other. Flavorwise, it lacked any strong accents. I would have preferred the shisito peppers fried without the tempura coating. The fish had a sweet miso glaze and was grilled to excellent doneness of barely flaking.

Miso cured Alaskan butterfish

Asia de Cuba exceeded my expectations. I'd come back just for the venue, but the food wasn't a letdown either. The gigantic terra cota flower pots housed miniature trees and created a beautiful outdoor dining terrace. It's worth checking out.

Asia de Cuba at the Mondrian Hotel
8440 Sunset Blvd
West Hollywood, 90069
(323) 848-6000
Website

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The Beef Secret's Out: Totoraku

It may not be so secret anymore, but it surely was not my own doing. Once the reviews started appearing on Yelp, among other places, it was just a matter of time before the Teriyaki House on Pico was known by its true identity--Totoraku, the Secret Beef restaurant.

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This dinner had been a long planned event. I had heard rumors of Secret Beef since I started blogging months ago. However, it wasn't until I met Ryan that I had my foot in that beefy door. The novelty about Totoraku was simply its exclusivity. You can't walk in without a reservation. I heard they used to go as far as locking their doors during business hours. Moreover, you can only get the elusive reservation by calling the direct line to the chef. He only grants reservations to people he knows, and he'll only know you if you've been there before. The key is to get in through a connection, then impress chef Kaz Oyama with the wine you're sure to bring. On that note, make sure to pour him a glass of your finest.

Well luckily, I know enough of the LA food community now to find a way into Totoraku. Through Ryan and Kevin, we got an early November reservation for twelve carnivorous bloggers and friends. Caroline from Caroline on Crack, Ore from Potential Gold and Fiona from Gourmet Pigs rounded out the bloggers. It was good company, made even better by the copiously flowing bottles of libations. Although I was able to distinguish between the wines, I still wish that I could better appreciate wine. But I'll never get there if I don't practice, and practice last night I did.

The dinner started with a dazzling tray of bite-sized appetizers: melon and prosciutto, lobster salad with jellyfish, asparagus with walnuts, king crab gelatin, Japanese tomatoes, steamed abalone with gold flakes, sockeye salmon, caviar topped quail eggs, and persimmon tofu salad. Considering this was served before most of the wine, I had the clearest impressions of these flavors. As is always the case, I don't think the gold added any flavor to the abalone, but it always does wonders for your self esteem. I had an odd experience with the crab gelatin; imagine little blocks of jello with pieces of crab suspended inside. The cantaloupe and prosciutto stood out as a winning combination. I've been experimenting with savory fruit combinations like apples and cheese, and melon and cured meat were no exception. In fact, Ore brought his smuggled culatello, aged 22 months and full of flavor. There's much tradition and technique involved in the curing of this contraband, but I can't speak on it with much authority. All I can say is that the culatello had an excellent finish, much smoother than the prosciutto served by the Chef Oyama.

Appetizers

Culatello

The first beef course was a beef sashimi prepared very simply. Ribeye sashimi surrounded a small bowl of special beef throat sashimi. Most notable was the texture of the sashimi, similar to a tartare but with a slight crunch of resistance. Throat sashimi is so rare in fact that a Google search of "beef throat" lists Totoraku several times in the first page of results. See what I mean about it no longer being a secret?

Beef throat and ribeye sashimi

Next came the actual steak tartare, tossed in a Korean/Japanese style. Kevin and I both came to the conclusion that it reminded us of Chinese jellyfish both in texture and flavor. Slightly sweet and incredibly chewy, this was probably as refreshing as beef gets.

Steak tartare

At this point, our table was inundated by raw plates of meat as our yakiniku grill was set up. Beef tongue served with a squeeze of lemon juice and grilled rare was the most memorable item of the night. I've had tongue before, but all too often it is too chewy and thus only good in small quantities. The tongue I had at Totoraku was both luxuriantly fatty and tender. We also had a filet mignon, which was a pass for me. Nice piece of meat, but I never think that filets offer enough flavor for me. We had both the inside and outside ribeye(also known as cap steak. The inside was lackluster in flavor, but the outside could only be described as "genuine beef". It saddens me that there isn't more great cap steak like this or the one at Josie.

Beef tongue

At this point, I was having a hard time keeping track of all the beef dishes and all the wine pairings we matched them with. Whereas the first set of beef plates were simply prepared with some coarsely ground pepper and large crystal sea salt, the last two were marinated. Boneless Korean short ribs and skirt steak rounded off our cow. Though both were delicious, they didn't set themselves apart from any other Korean barbecue. I think that's my issue with much of Korean food, the flavors are very bold, but lack complexity. The only difference between so many Korean restaurants is the quality of the beef--something in which Totoraku excelled.

I had been looking forward to the soup since I read Ryan's entry on his earlier visit. I had expected a hearty big bowl of Alaska king crab with miso and kimchee flavors intermingled. Instead, the soup was so pathetic, I'd rather not write anything more on it. Dessert was a refreshing plate of pistachio, white chocolate raspberry, espresso ice creams, and blueberry and lychee sorbets. The dinner started strong, but died off towards the end. The food just was not hitting on as many levels as I had hoped for the price and the exclusivity. However, my interest in the food had also shifted as more bottles were opened and I enjoyed my friends more and more.

Ultimately, I had a great night, but more because of the people than the beef. Better still, Masi Oka from Heroes was there on a date. It was an interesting experience, but not one I'd like to have again for $180. For the ingredients alone, I didn't see the price needing to be so high. If I'm paying that kind of money, I don't expect hole-in-the-wall style dining. However, I understand that the chef needs to keep his prices that high to maintain his business model. So though it was expensive, I am honored now to be a card carrying member of Secret Beef. Too bad soon it'll just be known as that pricey barbecue on Pico.

Totoraku
Phone number is secret
10610 W Pico Blvd,
Rancho Park, 90064
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Wall Street Got Its Bailout, Here's Yours: the Open Table Appetite Stimulus Plan

Open Table has created a new program to heal sagging restaurant business. It's going on in most major cities, including Los Angeles.

More after the jump...

This impressive list showcases many quality restaurants around town. However, you'd be hard-pressed to find any Michelin Stars on there. Most restaurants are hurting these days though, so there are a couple good finds.

From November 17-21 $35 dinner, $24 lunch per person for three-course meals. Make sure to ask for the Open Table menu. I just want to warn you when selecting restaurant to do some research beforehand. At some of these places, you really aren't saving much money paying $35 anyway. And I wouldn't be surprised if they cut portion sizes and other amenities to hit that price. So be vigilant! Report any corner-cutters here.

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Cool Things to Do with a Blowtorch and Fish: Kiriko Omakase

I recently tried Kiriko as part of my journey to eat at every restaurant on Sawtelle. Don't ask me for the exact parameters of my dine through Sawtelle journey since I am still deciding whether or not to go to Bar Hayama. But I did know that Kiriko, as one of LA Magazine's Best 75 Restaurants in LA, was on the top of my list.

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Finding myself alone for dinner on a Friday night, I decided to resume my list of Sawtelle restaurants. It wasn't until I was parking at a meter on Olympic that I decided which restaurant to try. I wasn't in a particularly spendy mood, but that had to change when I decided to go for sushi. The restaurant is small and subdued, nothing flashy or obtrusive to the meal. Even on a Friday night it was suspiciously vacant. There were a few tables and a couple finishing at the bar, but not as packed as I was expecting. This is usually not a good sign at places like sushi bars that require quick turnover on their fresh ingredients. However, after my dinner, I am glad that Kiriko is lesser known and I can get a seat at peak hours.

I mistakenly order a salad and an adult yellowtail sushi to start. I mention specifically adult yellowtail because this was listed as buri on the menu, which refers specifically to older specimens on their way to spawning. The flavor was therefore much more pronounced than it would be in a younger fish. Sufficiently satisfied with the buri, I decided to go for an all-out omakase.

Buri sushi

Shinji, my chef for the night, guided me into the dinner with a tai red snapper topped with grated wasabi and squeezed with lemon. Since tai tends to be a more delicate fish, it was nice to have some acidity in the citrus. I glanced at a bowl sitting above me on the countertop; sure enough, they had real wasabi root. I asked if I was eating the real thing or the imitation paste. He glanced in front of me, and placed a dollop of something slightly duller green next to the heap of wasabi. Real wasabi, a true rarity, tastes much more herbal and earthy than its doppelganger. There isn't as much eye-watering either. Given the chance, make sure you look for the real thing.

Next was a bonito with a little fried garlic on top. It tasted sweet, meaty and wholesome. No wonder bonito flakes seem to be used everywhere. But this was my first time having it as a sushi. The chutoro medium fatty bluefin tuna belly was satisfyingly melty, but not as decadent as some of the truly fatty toro I've had before. Next came a fish I'd never heard of prior to Kiriko - kinmedai Goldeneye Snapper. Besides sounding like a villain from a James Bond movie, the fish also has a soft white flesh similar to tai. Of course I didn't get much of that delicate flesh because Shinji went to town on it with a blowtorch. This wasn't a dinky brulee torch either, it actually enveloped the counter in flames. I later saw him do the same thing for a seared scallop sushi. It may be partly for show, but who doesn't love the tricks at Benihana.

I generally like ebi more than amaebi raw shrimp, but the one I had today was clearly very fresh, thereby incredibly sweet. It even tasted almost like lobster. Of course, the waitress later brought my the fried shrimp head, something I've never figured out quite how to eat.

Tempura shrimp head served with ponzu

Shinji served me wild king salmon with caviar next. I never had wild salmon sushi before, though I had heard that some people refuse to eat farmed salmon because it was terrible in comparison. Now I know exactly how those people feel. As with game animals, wild salmon had much higher concentrations of the flavors that make salmon what it is. Too often have I had buttery salmon that is indistinguishable from any other heavily marbled fish. The mirugai geoduck had a few drops of lemon to mask the ocean flavor. I had both aji jack mackerel and saba blue mackerel. Though saba tends to have a heavier vinegar flavor due to the preparation process, I found this saba to be almost as subtle sweetness as the aji.

I'm not usually a fan of ikura salmon roe, but this one was juicy and not at all briny. Too often it suffers from an overwhelming fishiness, but this ikura lacked it completely. It probably was a function of freshness. A good fish market should never smell like fish! I felt pretty full at this point and asked for one last piece. Shinji pulled out a tub of thick, brown sauce and stirred gently as it warmed. This was unagi freshwater eel sauce, not to be confused with the separate sauce they use for anago saltwater eel. I'm usually turned off by the sweetness of the eel, but there was none of that this time. Still, eel just didn't appeal to me as a sushi. I wouldn't mind it as part of a donburi instead.

Ikura salmon roe

With the sushi portion of the meal over, I asked for a dessert menu. I had heard that Kiriko prepared homemade ice cream that was amazing. Unfortunately, they do not allow customers to have dessert only, according to a Yelp review. The bark menu listed wild honey vanilla, honey sesame, bitter green tea, and brown sugar and ginger flavors. Upon recommendation by Shinji, I chose the brown sugar ginger. Turns out that the sushi chefs know their desserts too, otherwise every one of their ice creams is top notch. Be sure to try one on your own visit.


Physically and spiritually content, I rose from my chair and bid farewell to my chef, who had been the most important person in my life for the last hour. I reached to shake his hand, but realizing that it would probably have been a health code violation, he gave me an appropriate fist bump instead. I regret not chatting him up more, though I can rest assured there will definitely be another trip. Even better, I got out of there for less than $90.

Kiriko Sushi
11301 W Olympic Boulevard
Suite 102
West LA (Sawtelle), 90064
(310) 478-7769
kirikosushi.com
I had omakase for around $70 with the above listed items

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An LA Institution: Philippe's

Most Angeleno natives have heard of Philippe at one time or another. Since this is only my fifth year in town, I just recently stopped by. What can I say about an institution that has been in Chinatown since before it was Chinatown? What you see is what you get.

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Beef French Dip with Potato Salad, Coleslaw and $.79 Lemonade

This is what I ordered at Philippe. It is nearly identical to the orders of the legions of people in the restaurant on a Sunday afternoon. You'll have to navigate through the throngs to find a line at the counter. Whenever you can, snag the attention of one of the people behind the counter to take your order. I have a feeling this system works much better on slow days.

I figured that the beef sandwich would be a safe bet, although I had to fight long and hard to give up on the lamb one. Knowing that these sandwiches have maintained their popularity for so long with hardly a change gave me confidence. However, the sandwich was a soggy mess. I had no idea that the sandwiches are pre-dipped for you, a rather disgusting concept if you think about it. I resorted to picking it apart with a knife and fork. Anytime a sandwich pushes me to those extremes is going to be the last time I eat it. The beef was dry and the jus soaked bread dissolved without imparting any flavor.

The saving grace was the restaurant's amazing hot mustard. If anything, I would just buy a jar and keep it for every sandwich that needs a kick. For the record, I have a jar of Plochman's Stone Ground mustard, which is just as good but without the heat. Also, Sierra Nevada makes a great mustard. I also enjoyed Philippe's potato salad. The dill pickles added sweetness and brine, plus the paprika gave it more spice. The coleslaw was also plain but up to par. If you're looking for cheap drinks, $.79 lemonade and iced tea are refreshing but filled with so much ice that you end up buying two anyway.

What you get at Philippe's is nothing special. The sandwiches, at around $7 are even on the expensive side. But if consistency is what you crave, I'm not surprised that this restaurant is an LA institution.

Also, can anyone tell me if it's pronounced "Felipe" like in Spanish, or "Fill-eep" like in French?

Philippe's the Original Restaurant
1001 N Alameda St
Chinatown, 90012
(213)628-3781
philippes.com
$7 a sandwich, $2-3 side, $.79 lemonade/iced tea

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Cimarusti's Divine Seafood in LA

(For my desserts experience)

Since I started blogging and getting deep into the world of LA dining, I’ve been constantly reminded that I seemed to be the only blogger in town without an entry on Providence. It had been on my list for some time. Last weekend I managed to cross it off the list, along with “best meal yet.”

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Amuse Bouche - gin and tonic, mojito, saffron and fennel

The meal started with an amuse bouche bar sampler. Gin and tonic was molded into a slushy cube, with texture similar to a melting snow cone. At the center was a spherical mojito drop with a thin skin that exploded with liquid. The third was a saffron and fennel drink, intensely saffron flavored. I like to think that the three bites signified a descent into the water since the textures gradually dissolve into liquid. As the dinner began, I imagined wading into the open ocean.

Japanese Kanpachi – red shiso granitée, compressed cucumber, lemon and virgin olive oil

I have always had a fascination with kanpachi. Since I’m a big yellowtail fan, I try to seek out kanpachi when I go out. At one point, I even contemplated buying a chunk of it online for myself. I don’t know if the first course was a crudo per se, but the fish was dressed lightly with a fruity virgin olive oil and a squeeze of lemon. Yet, I’d be hard-pressed to call this Italian considering it is a Japanese fish served with red shiso and cucumber. Cimarusti successfully combined the cultures to highlight the magnificence of truly fresh fish. The fish was rather lean, but it didn’t need the unctuous feeling of toro to be delicious. I enjoyed the firm texture, and the more I chewed, the more of the flavors came through.

Point Judith Calamari – Aligio, olio, peperoncino

Now while the last course’s origins may be unclear, this course was certainly Italian. The chef julienned the body of the squid resembling pasta, while the body was coated in semolina flour and deep-fried. Both pieces sat in a citrus marinara that put other tomato sauces to shame. While the dish didn’t seem too elaborate, the simple sautéed squid was at the exact doneness to really excel. My impression of the tentacles was that of tempura with substance.

Sea Scallop (Hokkaido, Japan) – Coleman Farms arugula, truffle vinaigrette, juliet tomatoes

Ever since my unforgettable scallop dish at La Terza’s 5x5 by Alain Giraud, I could not get enough of scallops. A simple sautéed scallop with butter can be amazing in itself. While the scallop at Providence was certainly at the caliber of the restaurant, it was not especially memorable. Stranger still, it smelled like Chinese honey prawns, which slightly turned me off to the whole thing.

Day-boat Halibut (British Columbia) – fried burdock, shiso, lemon

This dish was impossible to photograph without excellent white balance. One of the purest things I have ever seen on a plate, the white fish looked saintly. I was shocked when the waiter told me this was steamed halibut. I feel like the flavor of the fish would be lost in the steaming process; and as anyone who has been to Alaska knows, good halibut is unforgettable. However, the heavy sauce played contrast to the lightness of the color. There was so much umami in the sauce that I found myself scrapping the bowl and licking my lips.

Grilled Columbia River King Salmon – roasted musque de province pumpkin, port wine reduction, sherry vinegar, Neuskes bacon, dandelion greens

Having read many reviews of my blogging counterparts, I highly anticipated the salmon course. From what I’ve seen, Cimarusti seemed to redefine salmon in his dishes. However, this one failed to amaze me. It was certainly one of those dishes where you can’t try all the components at once, and so the whole thing seems disjointed. The salmon was at an awkward doneness, not raw enough to be enjoyed rare, nor cooked long enough to flake. I found myself picking reluctantly at the salmon while loving the bacon and pumpkin. Those two components stole the dish from the fish. Around the plate was a slight dusting of star anise; I was uncertain whether the aroma added anything to the salmon.

Tenderloin of Veal – chanterelles, Weiser Farms torpedo onion, celery root purée

Since the menu was dominated by aquatic creatures, I didn’t expect to encounter veal underwater. However, I appreciated the choice of veal for the main meat course; because of its light texture, it did not distract too heavily from the other courses. The sous vide style of preparation, sealing the veal to roast in its own juices, resulted in fork tender meat. While extremely flavorful, I felt that it may have been too salty. Considering the cooking method, I guess veal does belong in a seafood restaurant.

Market cheeses – served with apple jam, candied walnuts, olive marmalade, dried figs, fruit bread

I won’t claim to remember all the cheeses I by name or even by description. If I tried, it would sound something like “the hard, nutty one” or “the runny bleu.” I did enjoy the spectacle of having an entire cheese cart pushed out and explained. My suggestion, avoid the strongly flavored cheeses because that taste just won’t go away. Above all, stay away from the buffalo milk cheese. It tasted like ashes. I did enjoy the apple jam and candied walnuts with some of the hard cheeses though.

Raisin, pear, ras el hanout & hazelnut

To cleanse the cheese plate in preparation for dessert, we received a miniature mug with a sweet cracker on top. The liquid was a pear soup with heavy flavors of melon and other spices. From what I can tell, ras el hanout can be a combination of dozens of different spices. This was certainly refreshing, but I wouldn’t call it a proper course.

Kalamansi Gelée – white chocolate coconut soy milk soup, litchi-shiso sorbet

Filipino lime, tapioca, coconut milk, lychee, shiso? Did this dessert manage to hit every major cuisine in Asia? An intensely tart gelée floated in a creamy coconut soup with tapioca reminiscent of Chinese tapioca desserts. Amazingly, the lychee and shiso flavors both came through in the sorbet in perfect balance. Eating a spoonful of sorbet, gelée and a dash of coconut milk made this the one of the best, unconventional desserts I’ve had.

Pistachio macaron, espresso truffle, olive oil gelee

I also want to make special mention of the bread. Three kinds were served with dinner, including: chive brioche, nori foccacia, and bacon brioche. I don’t commonly see these flavors infused in breads, but they would make a meal in themselves. With the check came a plate of petite fours: espresso chocolate truffles, olive oil gelée, and pistachio macarons. The truffles were an after-thought; the olive oil, an intrigue; and macarons comfortingly familiar. Imagine fruity olive flavored gelatin dusted with sugar.

While the kanpachi, and halibut certainly stood out, none of the courses were sub-par. Each displayed the creativity and care of detail I would expect from a newly awarded two-Michelin-star restaurant. At La Terza, I had the honor of meeting Chef Cimarusti. From the brief conversation with him, I could tell that he takes his job very passionately. Both him and the co-owner Donato Poto show the professionalism and excellence that only true dedication can bring. What other maitre d’ would prepare live roasted Santa Barbara prawns tableside (a dish unfortunately off-menu)? While I couldn’t return too soon for fear of diluting the pleasant memories of this dinner, I would be honored to come back. If Providence is divine care, I’m in heaven at Cimarusti’s table.

Providence
5955 Melrose Ave
Mid-Wilshire/Hancock Park, 90038
(323) 460-4170
providencela.com
$90 5-courses; $120 9-courses; $160 chef's menu

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Introduction to Little Ethiopia: Rahel Vegan Cuisine

This is my first restaurant in Little Ethiopia and the third I've been to ever. Usually, I go to Fassica on Fairfax, a little closer and away from the crowds, but this time I wanted to follow a recommendation by blogger Teenager Glutster. He told me that Rahel made their injera (the spongy bread) out of real teff instead of wheat like some of the other restaurants. I was determined to try out teff injera, despite my abhorrence for vegan restaurants.

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Speaking of Javier of Teenage Glutster, check him out October 14th on the Bizarre Foods on Travel Channel at 10pm, along with Mattatouille and Deep End Dining. But back to my review.

Rahel offers several "juice" drinks native to Ethiopia. Not knowing what I was thinking, I ordered the besso barley drink. I don't like barley teas, I don't know why I thought I would like a barley shake. It was thick and definitely had the taste of grain, but actually helped temper the spices of the food. My girlfriend's suff sunflower seed drink was quite refreshing. I'm not too sure how they managed to juice a sunflower seed, but the result was thin, more like a nectar than a shake. The taste was exactly what you'd imagine a drink made out of sunflower seeds would taste like.


Besso & Suff

Between my girlfriend and I, we had the Vegan Feast for two. Out came the sambussas appetizer first. I'm fairly certain that Ethiopian sambussas and Indian samosas more or less the same thing. Maybe they contain slightly different ingredients, but they tasted the same. It also came with a slightly sweet green pepper sauce and a red sauce I swear tasted alcoholic.


Sambussas

The main course came with the fabled teff injera. It came with several menu items including: stewed cabbage, whole lentil stew, split lentil stew, yeatkilt (vegetable) stew, split-pea stew, string beans with carrots, zucchini stew, collard greens, tomatoes, onions and jalepeños. While I've heard that the wats (stews) were good at Rahel, all the various ones on my plate blended together. In fact, due to the stewed texture, I felt like I was eating a big plate of more or less the same thing. I understand that much of Ethiopian cuisine is the wats, but it's just not my thing to eat stew with my hands. I always end up filling up on injera, which seems to expand in my stomach throughout the meal. At which point, I stop with the injera but can't figure out how else to eat with my fingers. I'd rather have a plate of tibs, which sauteed has more substance. The long-awaited injera had a slightly darker gray coloring than the wheat I was used to. It turns out that teff injera is tougher in texture, but besides that, not too different in taste. Both share that fermented sourdough taste that needs a pairing, otherwise is too sour to eat on its own.


Vegan feast

Considering how empty the restaurant was when we arrived, I would've expected prompter service. Things seem to move at a snail's pace at all the Ethiopian restaurants I've been to; perhaps it's a symptom of the cultural like how it felt when I was in Peru. It wasn't a bad restaurant, but I just can't give up meat--even for teff.

Rahel Ethiopian Vegetarian Cuisine
1047 South Fairfax Ave
Little Ethiopia, 90019
(323) 937-8401
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