Tons of Fun at 8oz. Burger Bar

What do you do when it’s late on a Tuesday night and you would give anything for a burger that actually tastes like…a burger?

You go to 8oz. Burger Bar on Melrose.

The Dark Knight and I sauntered in, sans reservations, to this egalitarian omnivore joint sometime after 9pm. After a long day at work, we needed some cocktails. My classic whiskey sour was a mix of bourbon, lemon juice and “sweetness” shaken to a light froth on the rocks and topped with a cherry. It was undoubtedly the best whiskey sour I’ve ever had (downright mind-blowing compared to the bottled mix/well whiskey sours of my past).


The Dark Knight was feeling adventurous, choosing a drink with no description: the “Grounds for Divorce.” When it arrived in all its milky splendor, I knew what it was from one brief sniff of the licorice scent. “Absinthe,” I pronounced before taking a small sip. After a larger taste, the Dark Knight nodded his head in agreement and proceeded to fidget with his straw. Hmmm…

Our food came promptly, smelling like heaven. The truffled potato skins, fat wedges of deep-fried goodness, sat in the middle of the table. After a few moments, the aroma wafted towards the Dark Knight, encouraging him to pick up a potato and take a huge whiff. “It’s like smelling the most fragrant rose in the world,” he said with a goofy smile.

Our burgers were no less than fabulous. My Estancia grass fed burger came dressed with charred escarole, roasted mushrooms (shitake?), and my chosen addition, gorgeous bel paese cheese. The cheese, creamy and beautifully melted, lent a subtle buttery flavor to the burger and complemented the juicy burger and was the perfect foil to the gentle bitterness of the escarole. All of these delicious burger accessories served to highlight the succulent flavor of my superbly cooked beef.

The Dark Knight’s burger, the signature 8oz., looked fabulous. He chose to add avocado and bleu cheese, the creaminess of the avocado smoothing out the pungent cheese. The burgers here come medium to medium rare because Executive Chef Govind Armstrong (who was on premises that night—woohoo!) believes they are best enjoyed that way. We wholeheartedly agree!

Our conversation fell to the wayside as the Dark Knight and I devoured our burgers, stopping only to exclaim around mouthfuls, “I can’t put this down!” and “Oh my God, this is amazing.” We may never eat normal burgers again.

Wide-eyed from the absinthe and giddy from our carnivorous feast, the Dark Knight convinced me that dessert would be a good idea. Well, sure. Let’s dawdle to let the alcohol in our systems work its way out. Little did we know that our dessert would send us into even more fits of ecstasy.

With a dessert list featuring comfort food favorites like NY-style cheesecake with strawberries, chocolate sundae, and Meyer rum bread pudding. We opted for the banana split, pretending that it was less unhealthy because of the banana. So maybe the health benefits of the banana were cancelled out by the rich ice cream and incredibly decadent chocolate sauce, but we couldn’t resist. Fluffy whipped cream, only vaguely sweetened to maintain flavor balance, chopped peanuts, and fresh strawberries were perfect accompaniments. The real star, however, was the caramel sauce. Its deep flavor and velvety mouthfeel prompted the Dark Knight to tell our waitress, “This is no joke. So good.”

Indeed, our entire meal was no joke. Flawlessly executed using the best, freshest ingredients, the first-rate dishes we tried guarantee a return trip.

Among the items we’ve vowed to try in the future (read: on multiple visits throughout the next few weeks because we’re addicted): “small snacks” like chorizo-stuffed fried olives, mini Kobe corndogs with purple ketchup, and deviled eggs sprinkled with smoked paprika (the table next to us ordered them, and the Dark Knight almost asked them for a taste); short rib grilled cheese sandwich with that glorious bel paese, “the best turkey burger in LA,” according to Chris, one of the owners, and the “suds and slider” sampler with mini burgers made variously of wild boar and other untraditional meats.

There’s “nothing artificial” in the cocktails, promised our waitress, making the list especially appealing. The blackberry Collins made with vodka or gin, muddled blackberries, and hand-squeezed lemon juice; the elderflower daiquiri, rum mixed with elderflower liquor, fresh lime and white cranberry juices, and mint leaves; and the cherry vodka sour made with cherry vodka, cranberry juice, housemade grenadine, and lemon juice are definitely on the must-try list. Wines go for $8/glass, $16/carafe, and $32/bottle—a good deal for international and domestic favorites like prosecco and a 2004 Tempranillo that should go perfectly with those mini Kobe corndogs I’m planning on having next week.

The minimalist awnings outside make this amazing burger spot easy to miss unless you're familiar with the street, but it is so worth the hunt. On the other hand, the interior of this space is a highly unique mix of NYC gastropubs (beer menu written on a huge mirror, pressed tin ceiling) and old-school farmhouses (a big, weathered white kitchen table for larger groups, gabled ceiling between indoor and outdoor seating). It’s a charming space, one designed to make the diner feel comfortable and at home, a refreshing change from the starched white linen of its last inhabitant.

So never fear, food fans: the latest incarnation of this acclaimed Melrose location has a brand new life—one that the Dark Knight and I both hope lasts for a very, very long time.

Chow Time at Animal

When JP and I heard that the Food Dudes’ newest venture on Fairfax was opening, we knew we had to try it. A week and a half ago, we finally got our wish.

The Dark Knight, JP, and I entered the spartan space with high hopes. Seeming to want their diners to focus only on the food and drink, owners Jon Shook and Vinny Dotolo have no décor to speak of, except for light bulbs and a polished concrete floor. Not a problem, for the three of us are exactly the kind of diners Animal was made for, omnivorous oenophiles. With every wine on the list available by the glass, carafe (half-bottle), or bottle—plus some unlisted wines on offer, if you know to ask—this appeared to be the kind of place we could get used to.

And indeed, it is.

With stomachs a-growl, we ordered three starters: tender, toothy, smoky ribs with piquant panzanella; melty, chorizo-heavy, gooey petit basque with crostini; meaty, smoky gravy smothering seared foie gras atop a biscuit base. Yes, our inner carnivores had taken over.

The ribs were expectedly delish, nearly falling off the bone. Paired with a vaguely oaky Spanish red, they blew the Dark Knight away. JP and I split the last bites of petit basque, a queso fundito kind of application, and the creamy foie. Sipping a yeasty French red made those final nibbles of foie even better.


For our mains, we shared the halibut, fried quail, and flatiron steak with sweetbreads nuggets. The halibut, our one nod to healthy eating, was juicy and moist. The steak was perfectly seasoned (I know, I’m obsessed with that) and the sweetbreads nuggets were so mildly flavored as to have almost no taste, save for the seasoned breading. One the one hand, I wish there was more flavor—but on the other, I’m glad I didn’t taste anything funky.

The real star of the table, though, was the fried quail. A heap of tiny halved birds deep-fried to a golden brown, this was the epitome of elevated comfort food. There are no more words, I…I think I’m addicted.

Never a group to shy away from unique flavor combinations, we opted for the chocolate crunch bacon bar as one of our desserts. The Dark Knight was most excited for this dish, as it embodies his two favorite things: sweet and salty. Tasting a bit like a candy bar, the dark ganache was punctuated by the smoky, crunchy bacon shards.

JP’s nectarine and blueberry cobbler, steaming hot and bubbling with goodness, tasted as though the fruits had just been picked that afternoon. The cobbler topping, crumbly and flaky, served to enhance the natural sweetness of the fruit.


My Bellweather ricotta drizzled with honey and served with toasted brioche points was refreshing and light. This is no ordinary ricotta here: fluffy and accented by a citrus-scented honey, it is the very essence of a simple, Italian-inspired dessert.

We may have entered Ditolo and Shook’s minimalist restaurant hungry like wolves, but we left sated and peaceful. Forget music to soothe the savage beast—send it to Animal!

Animal
435 N. Fairfax Ave. (near Oakwood Ave.)
Los Angeles, CA 90036
323-782-9225

Comfort Food, a la Mainland

It’s rare that the Dark Knight and I find ourselves craving dishes day after day. Boba, perhaps. Lasagna, certainly. A new addition to our list: shrimp toast.

Despite our dissatisfaction with Table 10, we decided to give the eateries at Palazzo another try, this time heading to Mainland for a culinary tour of Asia.

On our first visit, we tried the shrimp toast, grilled pork chop over chilled vermicelli noodles, kimchee fried rice, and duck wontons. The shrimp toast was everything I had been craving for the past five years (no one makes shrimp toast in LA, apparently): deep-fried goodness and sweet, delectable shrimp dipped in a medium-spiced kewpie mayonnaise.


The Dark Knight’s pork chop, though expectedly more expensive than its local mom-and-pop counterparts, was thoroughly seasoned and cooked until just done. The juicy meat and pickled veggies left the Dark Knight sated and happy.

My duck wontons carried more star anise flavor than I enjoyed, but the kimchee fried rice created a nice balance against the heaviness.

We also tried their alcoholic milkshakes—vodka and lychee for the Dark Knight, soju and rose petals for me. After first sips that left us reeling from the heavy alcohol content, the rest of the drinks smoothed out. Finally, by the end of the meal, we were slurping the last dregs of our shakes. My drink, made with the ubiquitous Korean alcohol, had a floral aroma from beginning to end of each mouthful. Not too sweet, the intensity of the rose petal infusion was a lovely final taste at the end of my meal. The Dark Knight’s drink tasted just like a non-alcoholic lychee shake, save for that initial sip. Both milkshakes capped off a mostly-wonderful meal.

The next day, we met for lunch at Mainland again, the taste of shrimp toast still lingering on our palates. This time, we enjoyed the toast we’ve been obsessing about, the steamed beef dumplings, and crispy vegetable wontons.

The shrimp toast did not disappoint, and we wolfed it down immediately.

The beef dumplings, tender wrappers filled with pine nuts and grilled steak pieces, surprised us both with the flavor combination. Dipping the succulent bites in a spicy peanut sauce, the Dark Knight and I swooned over the plate between sips of warm sake.

To ensure that we received a serving of vegetables, I ordered the crispy vegetable wontons—deep-fried purses stuffed with shiitake mushrooms, pea sprouts, leeks, and spinach. This modern take on a classic dim sum dish was nicely executed.

And so balance has been restored to the universe: one terrible Palazzo restaurant, two nearly perfect experiences at another. Delish!

Table 10...and a half

No. No, no, no, no, no. The Dark Knight and I tried so hard to like Emeril Lagasse’s latest offering at Palazzo in Las Vegas, Table 10. But we couldn’t. There are so many things wrong here: billed as a New Orleans-inspired fine dining restaurant, we expected food that would bring our tastebuds back to the glory days of NOLA cuisine; barring the NOLA experience, we wanted delicious food; given Emeril’s long history of successful establishments, we thought it wouldn’t be too much to ask to have a normal table on a fairly vacant night. Foiled on all counts.

This isn’t to say that everything was horrible. Quite the contrary—when the food was good, it was pretty good. My starter of seafood and andouille sausage gumbo with white rice was tasty in all the right ways, though perhaps a bit too spicy for my taste.

My main course, fennel-cured salmon over lightly dressed arugula and mandolined cucumbers, was refreshing and wonderful. The Dark Knight’s dessert of sorbet, including pear, blackberry, and strawberry, was great. And my white chocolate-filled malasadas, those balls of fried dough so central to Hawaiian cuisine, were deep-fried perfection.

But that’s the problem. The one dish on the menu that was overtly NOLA was just…fine. Our favorite dish was Hawaiian (by way of Portugese) in nature, a severe departure from the publicized intent of Table 10.

The Dark Knight’s starter, escargot in a gravy-like butter sauce over a crouton round was barely edible. “Flavorless, rabbit turd-looking mess,” said the Dark Knight as I reached across the table to try it. I nodded in agreement.

We dismissed that dish as an example of a recipe gone awry. But when the Dark Knight’s entrée arrived, we realized that this was going to be a strange night. On the menu, roasted salmon over chorizo and tomatoes sounds pretty good. On the plate, however, it’s downright awful. The salmon, slightly overcooked, arrived atop a mushy mélange of tortilla chunks and chorizo cubes, tossed in a chunky tomato sauce. The sauce itself was rather bland, lending a sameness of flavor to every bite. Given that most NOLA food is not only highly seasoned, but rarely employs tortillas, this plate gave us pause. What was this? We wondered.

Dessert seemed to have come from a completely different kitchen. The sorbets were delightful in their vibrant fruitiness. My malasadas were warm, dusted in cinnamon-sugar, and pleasantly crisp on the outside. The interior was uniformly soft and moist, fluffy with just the right amount of chewiness. The accompanying crème anglaise was nothing to write home about, but it sufficed.

The real star of the show was my drink, an absinthe concoction with fruit juice and blueberries. The licorice flavor of the absinthe was front and center, but nicely balanced by the sweetness of the fruit. Every sip was a search for treasure—the treasure being bits of muddled blueberries. Garnished with a sprig of mint, the aroma was enticing and clean.

Earlier, I noted that the layout of the restaurant is questionable. The reason I bring it up at all is that it is a physical manifestation of all that is wrong at Table 10. The Dark Knight’s half of the table was in one dining room—hardwood floors, a glass wall showcasing an enormous wine collection—while my half of the table was in what appeared to be a walkway. The two spaces were defined by a curtain that, when drawn, would have cut the table in half. A visual cue to diners at our table, and the matching one next to us, that there are indeed two worlds here: the one with inconsistent food, and the one with delicious drinks.

I try not to write about negative experiences on this blog, but this is one instance in which I feel it’s important to alert my (laughably few) readers to the disappointment that is Table 10. After all, no one should have to suffer the way the Dark Knight and I have.

The Importance of Being Tasty

It’s rare that I’m blown away by food. Yes, lunching at REDD in Yountville rocks my world (oh, the foie gras trio!). And I do love the burger at Ravenous in Healdsburg, with its giant oven fries and roasted garlic cloves. But locally (local to my parents, that is), there is a place serving up beautifully innovative food that never forgets the importance of taste over all else.

Shokolaat in Palo Alto is one of those rare finds that makes fine dining accessible to every kind of diner. Starters like the salad of baby greens and micro-herbs with a Meyer lemon vinaigrette, or the caramelized scallops in a porcini mushroom and leek stew are appealing on a mass scale.

However, my first visit to Shokolaat wasn’t about playing it safe. For our starters, we enjoyed the gratin of escargot and bone marrow, an aromatic dish with mushrooms, confit of onions, spinach, and red wine sauce. The orange-scented cauliflower soup, a velvety puree accented with orange blossom water “caviar,” was exactly sweet enough to pair perfectly with the house-made olive rolls. Say what you will about molecular gastronomy, the burst of flavor provided by the “caviar” was absolutely divine.

Our entrees included the Mediterranean sea bass, the duck breast, and the Australian rack of lamb. The sea bass, accompanied by parsnip puree and braised cabbage, was plated with a smear of saffron emulsion. The saffron flavor was distinct, but not overpowering, lending the dish a refined taste.

The duck breast seemed to have been cooked sous vide, being at medium doneness all the way through. It was served with lightly seasoned roasted sweet potatoes sliced nearly paper-thin, supporting a bed of gorgeous ruby chard. The port wine reduction surrounding the duck was smooth and rich.

The Australian rack of lamb, generously portioned, was seared perfectly and came with a lamb reduction that tied together the savory meat and roasted flavor of the accompanying vegetable tian.

We ordered a bittersweet chocolate soufflé at the beginning of the meal, and it arrived with all the flair that you would expect: the waiter took two spoons, opened a cavity in the soufflé, and poured in the aged dark rum sauce. Heaven.

Our other dessert was the chocolate and caramel tart, its rich bittersweet chocolate upper layer tempered by the deep caramel beneath it. Reminiscent of the best parts of my favorite candy bar, this dessert was swoon-worthy.

Shokolaat has quickly become one of my parents’ favorite restaurants, and if I lived up there, it would be my favorite, too. As it is, I guess I’ll have to settle for the occasional magical meal—but I have a feeling I’ll be in need of a Shokolaat fix sooner, rather than later.

(The photos were taken with the camera on my phone, sorry for their grainy look!)

Me Go Run for Mee Goreng

Oh, man. I had the craziest dream last night: I was running through a jungle, all vines and humidity, following a familiar, yet unrecognizable scent. I ran and ran, searching in vain for the source of this smell that drew me nearer and nearer, yet seemed to evade me at every turn. The heat built all around me--and suddenly, I could taste it. A little salty, a little sweet, a lot spicy.

I woke up in a cold sweat, craving mee goreng.

The Dark Knight, my ever-indulgent boyfriend, bowed to the pressure of my nocturnal visions, allowing me to steer him through the zoo that is the Farmer's Market on Third and Fairfax. Parents with children, children with children, couples about have children...do you get the impression that I'm not too keen on large crowds of kids? That's a whole other blog, my darlings.

Anyway, we wound our way to Singapore's Banana Leaf. I seated the Dark Knight at a table and placed my order just as the clock struck 9. One plate of mee goreng, please. With one limeade and one mango juice.

Six minutes later. Six minutes of watching the guy across from me wolf down his rendang beef. Six minutes of listening to the couple next to me chatting intermittently in Indonesian as they shared a plate of nasi (Indo style, yes please!) and a plate of chicken curry. Six minutes of watching other almost-customers come strolling (or in one case, running) up to the counter, only to turn away, sad-faced and disappointed, when the guy who just took my order tells them they're closed for the night.

And then my number was called, the lady from the kitchen handed me my plate, and I felt a little faint as the aroma coming from the plate mingled with the aroma from my dream and I realized I was home. Home isn't just where you're from, or where you lay your hat, or where your heart is. Home is everything that makes you feel safe, comfortable, happy, and (at least in my world) well-fed. And I was home. Or close to it, anyway.

A steaming pile of noodles, co-mingling with bits of scrambled egg and soft-cooked onions and crunchy bean sprouts, sat on a sheet of banana leaf. A handful of chicken, quick sauteed in chile oil, topped the noodles. A sprinkling of just-snipped scallions.



We dug in enthusiastically, our mouths too full to speak. Finally, a little breathless from eating so rapidly, the Dark Knight spoke, "Those are some good noodles."

I could only nod, my mouth full of spicy chicken, my eyes a little watery from the heat.

"I really like the egg. And the onion. And this chicken is great!" said the Dark Knight, beginning to eat again, lest I clean the plate alone.

Silence for a few more minutes as we finished the food. And then, exhaling a great big breath, I said, "That was so good. We need to order separately next time."

iTapas

Okay, okay, so maybe the name is a bit too dot-com to be cool. After all, that bubble burst a long time ago. But maybe that's alright. The tapas bubble seems not to have burst yet, and iTapas is one of many small plates restaurants to take this concept and add a California (read: Asian fusion) twist. Will iTapas survive the downward turn this trend is sure to take sometime this decade? Not being a fortune teller, I cannot predict. I can, however, talk about the food...

I have an unholy obsession with garlic. I will order almost anything with this most flavorful bulb as a main component. I've even tried garlic ice cream (and will again, once I buy an ice cream maker!). So it goes without saying that when we spied not one, but three garlicky dishes, I asserted that all three must be ordered. My suggestion was well-received, and we enjoyed the soft shell crab quick-fried in the manner of Chinese salt-and-pepper squid (fried in a light lacy batter, then tossed with salt, pepper, and chilis). Under the direction of owner Hung Le, this recipe gets an update: threads of garlic co-mingle with the rings of serrano and jalapeno peppers that cover each piece of crab, fighting for prominence with bits of scallion and the ever-present kosher salt.

Veering away from the Asian theme for a few plates, we devoured the simply prepared Brussels sprouts in a garlic, butter, wine sauce. This classic combination of flavors was complemented well by the two out of the three wines in my wine flight. Even more suited to the wines? The most popular tapas dish ever: garlic shrimp. A handful of plump shrimp are cooked gently in chili- and garlic-infused butter, then tossed with a bit of parsley and presented in a steaming hot mound rising from a pool of deliciously rich sauce. This was so good, I sopped up the rest of the garlicky goodness with some bread!

Speaking of sauces, the short ribs in a port wine reduction were delectable. Tender to the point of falling apart, bathed in a sinful, paprika-tinged sauce, this warranted another piece of bread to soak up every last flavorful bit. All three of the wines in my flight went well with this dish, though the Malbec seemed to work the best, its finish turning chocolatey after a bite of the beef.

Back on the Asian side, we really enjoyed the tempura green beans. They had just the barest coat of batter, and were served with an unexpected vinegar and soy sauce mixture, instead of the classic tempura sauce. Also on the table was the duck wonton in duck consomme. This dish comes with about seven wontons, each a little bigger than a large walnut. Flavored lightly with ginger, they are centered in a bowl half-filled with a delicately seasoned, yet utterly savory broth accented by thin shavings of scallion.

For dessert, we had the cheese plate and the miniature churros. The cheese plate came with three different (yet never identified) cheeses that we suspect included a brie, asiago, and port salut (though, really, we can't be certain). Also on the plate were parmesan crisps, crackers, quince paste, and an innovative grape salad--red seedless grapes, halved and showered with thin ribbons of mint leaf.

The churros were, predictably, wonderful. It's hard to go wrong with fried dough, especially when it's rolled in a super-sweet cinnamon-sugar mixture. The shot of hot chocolate that sat next to them was a bit too sweet for my taste, but I think most people would find it just fine for dipping.

Overall, this somewhat overwhelming trip around the world in eight plates was scrumptious. Next time I'm in town, I'll be back for more of that garlic shrimp!

iTapas
445 Emerson St.
Palo Alto, CA 94302
650.325.4400

Opus Restaurant

Wilshire Blvd. is one of the main streets of Los Angeles, from Santa Monica’s Promenade to the historic El Rey and Wiltern theatres. Nestled next to the Wiltern is yet another reason to get to know Wilshire from beginning to end. Opus Restaurant is a sleek, modern space finished with touches of dark-stained wood and lots and lots of glass. I’d heard from fellow foodie Brie that this was a spot worth visiting for drinks and lounging, but with the arrival of star chef Josef Centeno (formerly of the now-defunct Meson G), I decided this would be the perfect place to celebrate the Dark Knight’s birthday. Centeno has pared down the entire menu, resulting in a smaller selection of dishes per course. This change allows the kitchen to make better food, their concentration no longer split between dozens of entrees, but rather restricted to a handful of tempting plates.

We started with a glass of off-menu sparkling Spanish wine compliments of the chef and munched contentedly on bread from BreadBar while we chatted and perused the menu. Despite just a few offerings for each course, we still had difficulty deciding on dinner. Self-control is impossible when it comes to good bread, and the Dark Knight and I ended up stuffing ourselves before we had even ordered. Too full for our usual feast, we limited ourselves to lovingly prepared entrees: I had the roasted pork shoulder with garlic-chive aioli, while the Dark Knight ordered the sautéed tai (snapper) with charred romaine.

To accompany my entrée, the waiter suggested a glass of Malbec. Its slightly astringent finish cut through the melt-in-your-mouth pork fat, and the ripe berry palate highlighted the sweetness of the market-fresh asparagus and grape tomatoes atop which the pork was seated. The pork itself was a study in simplicity. Braised in what tasted like a deep red wine, shallots, and orange marmalade sauce (but don’t quote me on that), then slow roasted at a low temperature, the pork quite literally fell apart when I moved it off the mound of lightly sautéed vegetables. It retained its tender, juicy texture, and brought me back to my childhood.

The Dark Knight enjoyed a glass of the same Malbec before dinner, but decided to savor his snapper sans drink. Dressed in a kumquat reduction, both the fish and Romaine were tasty. The citrus aroma from the plate was gorgeous—heady and inviting. The outside of the tai was well-seasoned, a perfect crust on the outside and soft meat within. The Romaine leaves were surprisingly tasty due to the high heat method of cooking, which concentrated the natural sweetness of the lettuce.

Wonderfully sated, but craving something sugary, the Dark Knight and I shared a lemon cheesecake slice covered with strawberries macerated in Prosecco and complemented by a refreshing uzu sorbet. The cheesecake tasted more like a creamy version of the lemon bars that my mom used to bring home for me, and again, I reveled in the comforting sensation. The sorbet was lovely, a sublime scoop of icy goodness.

Beyond the nicely presented dishes and excellent taste combinations, Opus also has one of the nicest staffs I’ve ever encountered. From the doorman to the food runners to our friendly and knowledgeable waiter, the Dark Knight and I felt as though we were well-attended to during our visit. Opus has become on of our favorite local places to dine.


Opus Restaurant
3760 Wilshire Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA 90010
www.opusrestaurant.net

Cafe des Artistes

The Dark Knight and I celebrated our second anniversary earlier this month at Cafe des Artistes, a quaint Hollywood eatery tucked away on a side street just off Sunset Blvd. Located in a restored bungalow, the cafe boasts a covered front patio serving a limited menu from the kitchen and a full menu from the bar for casual nibblers and those who just want to hang out and chat.

The inside of this homey cafe is decorated with paintings and other artwork inspired by some of Europe's most famous artists. Wood tables and votive candles create a comfortable, elegantly casual atmosphere. But the real star is the food. The Dark Knight and I started with the escargot, served bubbling hot in the traditional mixture of butter, parsley, and garlic. My cabernet (Louis Martini '03, France) had just enough body and spice to cut through the oily creaminess of the perfectly soft and tender snails.

The Dark Knight enjoyed his filet mignon, reveling in the sharp bite of the peppercorn sauce. Served with frites, the filet was succulent, cooked to the ideal medium rare. I enjoyed my entree more, though. The table-prepared steak tartare is a show in itself, with the waiter spicing this mixture of finely chopped top-quality steak and accompaniments to my specifications. The cabernet held up well to this dish as well, lending a subtle sweetness to this very savory course.

For dessert, the Dark Knight and I shared the warm thin apple tart, topped with a rich vanilla bean ice cream. The apples were beautifully caramelized, though the crust was a bit too soggy for my taste. The crust is, of course, the truest test for any pastry chef, and I think we may simply have caught this one on an off night.

Overall, Cafe des Artistes lives up to its reputation as one of LA's best hidden jewels for French comfort food.

Cafe des Artistes
1534 N. McCadden Place
Hollywood, CA 90028
www.cafedesartistes.info

Restaurant O

I spent this past weekend in the Bay Area, visiting with family and friends. One night, we went to a restaurant that occupies a space I knew years ago as my favorite osso buco spot. Now, it's a tidy little space with upholstered walls, wood paneling, and twisted track lighting. Restaurant O boasts a comprehensive wine list, market fresh food, and a knowledgeable waitstaff that emphasizes wine pairings and witty banter.

We started with mussels roasted in a wood-burning oven, bathed in a lightly seasoned lemon butter sauce. Roasting the mussels gave them a slightly smoky flavor, but it also intensified the natural sweetness and softened the texture. They quite literally melted on the tongue. Also on the table was a Caesar salad with fried anchovies--lovely but not as memorable as what the menu calls a "strawberry napoleon." This dish consisted of layers of phyllo atop single leaves of buttery lime stone lettuce. The lettuce encased a small mound of tender pea shoots and bleu cheese drizzled with a wonderfully acidic strawberry balsamic vinaigrette. Scattered around the plate were thin slices of perfectly ripe strawberries, lending a subtle sweetness to each bite. My sauvignon blanc from Husch Vineyards ('05) played nicely with this appetizer, lightening the thick balsamic.

For our entrees, we had a raviolo filled with lentils and Dungess crab, sitting in a creamy Madeira obster sauce. There was a hint of anise in the sauce, enhancing the succulent crab meat. While I'm not a fan of lentils, they worked well with this dish, adding a nice texture to the filling. The huge veal chop was juicy and tender, the rosemary balsamic reduction serving as a piquant backdrop against the buttery meat. My favorite, however, was the seared scallops topped with pan-crisped foie gras. The grapefruit reduction bore no traces of the bitterness most people associate with grapefruit. Instead, there was simply a subtle citrus essence, which worked as a delectable foil against the apple relish that topped the dish. The scallops, sweet and moist, were accentuated by the creaminess of the foie gras. Again, the sauvignon blanc was a wonderful suggestion from our waiter; cutting through the heavy foie and bringing out the natural fresh flavor of the scallops, this wine was the best choice to accompany my dish.

Our dessert was a layer of cake soaked in coffee, the topped with chocolate and coffee mousse. The cake itself was perfect: rich and velvety, with a tender crumb and spongy texture. The mousse was light and airy, making for a dessert that was a perfect, if sinful, end to our meal.

While it is a bit of a drive from anywhere in the Bay Area, this Campbell restaurant is definitely worth a return visit. I left inspired by the creative flavor combinations, ready to try my hand at re-creating this excllent meal.

Restaurant O
2081 S. Winchester Blvd.
Campbell, CA 95008
www.restaurant-o.com