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.

Room for everyone at Room Forty

On a hot summer night, the Dark Knight and I piled into the car with the Killa Bee at the wheel and Sir James riding shotgun. Ensconced in the air-conditioned comfort of the Bee’s vehicle, the four of us enjoyed a leisurely ride through Pasadena, arriving at one of Alta Dena’s gated communities. Having passed muster, we entered a world far removed from the confines of the smog-filled big city that we inhabit.

At Room Forty’s June dinner, including wine from Justin Wines, hosts Steve and Nicole orchestrated the perfect Saturday dinner. Passed hors d’oeuvres included crostini topped with chevre and black peppered marmalade orange zest, burrata and heirloom tomatoes dressed in balsamic, and deviled white wine eggs. A refreshing 2007 Sauvignon Blanc kept us hydrated, as it were.

Once seated, bowls of corn and summer parsnip puree arrived before us. The toothsome stone fruit salsa garnish provided a lovely textural contrast to the smooth cool of the soup. While I love a good Chardonnay on a warm evening, the 2007 that was paired with this soup seemed a bit piquant when compared with the creamy, subtle sweetness of the soup.


The 2006 Syrah paired well with our fish course, roasted escolar cooked just to temperature. It’s a bold move to pair such a powerful wine with a white fish, but the earthiness of the meaty morels around the fish rounded out the developing truffle notes in the wine. My favorite component was the delicious, well-balanced brandy bacon cream sauce, its smoky flavor mitigating the sweetness of the squash puree foundation of the dish.

A slightly hammy smoked maple leaf duck comprised our poultry dish, with barely blanched baby carrot rounds and spring peas rounding out the plate. The cherry Cabernet sauce unsurprisingly went well with the 2006 Cabernet served with this course, though a 2004 would have tasted better. I found the 2006 to be a bit too young for consumption; only decanting an hour or two before service could have softened the tannic edges and green taste of the wine.

The ultimate pairing of the night was the Niman Ranch braised pork and cheesy, stone-ground grits in a Malbec reduction with the 2006 Justification. Definitely the star of all savory courses, the smoky, fork-tender pork was enhanced by the lush palate and dried huckleberry nose of the wine. This blended wine, Justin Wines’ signature release, was served almost at the peak of its bottle life. Its mouthfeel and endnotes reminded me of sugarplum candies, the smoothness reminiscent of dark cherry-scented dark chocolate.

The Dark Knight was most excited about dessert: a bar of bittersweet chocolate mousse, thick like a ganache but airy like a mousse, topped with a Bing cherry geleé shaped like cherry halves; and baked brie bombolini with apple chutney and apricot confit. The mousse was rich and velvety, bringing out the deep chocolate flavors of the 2006 Obtuse port that was paired with this final course. The bombolini, tiny bundles of pastry, brie, and apple, tasted like apple danishes taken to a higher level.

With a gorgeous setting, succulent food, and fabulous company, the four of us loved almost every moment of our Room Forty event. We can’t wait for the next one!

Rise, revisited

I spent last night in the company of some lovely people, foodies eager to experience the new menu at Rise. The decor remains the same, as sleek and modern as before. Likewise, the service is still accommodating and courteous, with the drinks being even better than I remember (though that may just be my drink choice--dirty Ketel martinis are typically tastier than vodka/sodas).

Anyway, this wasn't a case of tasting slightly tweaked dishes familiar in that setting. It was, instead, an entirely different experience. With the seven-course tasting menu gone, the savory menu is broken into three parts: quick plates (small dishes like Thai glass noodles with shrimp and veggies or the trio of Mediterranean dips including olive [some sort of tapenade?], chick pea [hummus?], and eggplant [baba ganoush?]) that my table decided against because we were saving ourselves for dessert; small plates like the Dark Knight's favorite spicy tuna tartare, beet carpaccio (beets are my current most-craved veggie), and mini turkey burgers with sweet potato fries; and big plates including Wagyu beef filet mignon, chicken and gnocchi, and pad thai.

Our starters were uniformly tasty. Those in my party who ordered the spicy tuna tartare enjoyed the nice texture balance between the tuna and the crispy rice topper. I loved my beet carpaccio, the tender beets' sweetness tempered by the salty feta and zesty grapefruit vinaigrette.

For our main dishes, the Dark Knight virtually inhaled his Wagyu beef filet mignon. It appeared that the peppercorn sauce and corn agnolotti were delish--though the only thing I got to taste from his plate was the perfection of his Peruvian purple potatoes. The chicken and gnocchi dish was surprisingly interesting, the chicken retaining its flavor and natural juices, and the slightly caramelized gnocchi lending a delightful counterpoint to the fresh, green taste of the asparagus. While not exactly traditional in presentation, I must point out the gnocchi was light, fluffy, and incredibly flavorful.

I went against the grain and ordered a small plate for my main course: the mini turkey burgers. These succulent patties were certainly a pleasant surprise, with their robust seasonings lending them the flavor of my favorite dumpling filling. The glossy buns and accompanying cornichon provided a wonderful counterpoint to the piquant seasonings of the burger. As always, sweet potato fries were a welcome addition to the plate.

Our desserts were equally impressive. Beautifully tart lemon squares cut into triangles adorned every plate, with offerings like rich truffle cake, banana cream pie, pecan pie, and chocolate mousse in the lead roles. One thing I can always count on at Rise is an extraordinary dessert experience. My favorite was the pecan pie, chock full of pecans, buttery and sweet. The pie crust is among my Top 10 in Los Angeles, flaky and subtle to soften the sweetness of the filling.

This pre-club dinner satisfied everyone in our party, and left us eager to try the rest of Rise's re-imagined menu--even on a night that we don't plan on partying at the club downstairs.

Rise
The Highlands Nightclub
Hollywood and Highland entertainment complex
6801 Hollywood Blvd.
Hollywood, CA 90028
323.461.9800

Hooray for Strawberries!

It's nearly summer, though from the heat in Los Angeles, it feels like we should be prepping our grills and seasoning our Fourth of July burgers already.

But since it's really only April, and strawberries are cheap and fresh and oh-so-sweet, it's time to celebrate the Farmer's Market bounty instead.

I woke up starving this morning, probably a result of my itty-bitty dinner last night. Rather than the big weekend breakfast that I was craving, I decided to start on getting my daily recommended serving of fruits...

Strawberry-Stuffed French Toast
No need to run to IHOP, people. You can put together this moderately healthy treat for yourself in 15 minutes.

Serves 4.

1/2 loaf bread, sliced into 1 to 1 1/14 inch thick slices
5 large strawberries, washed and pitted
4 tbsp. fat-free cream cheese, softened
2 tbsp. sugar or sweetener
2 eggs
1 tbsp. skim or low-fat milk
1 tsp. vanilla extract
2 tbsp. butter
1 tbsp. powdered sugar or sweetener
4 strawberries, washed and pitted, for garnish

1. Preheat oven to 350F.
2. Mash together strawberries, cream cheese, and sugar. I like to throw it all into my mini-blender (gotta love that attachment on the magic stick blender) and pulse until fully combined.
3. Slice mostly through the thick bread slices, being careful not to cut all the way through. "Don't break the hinge," as the cheesesteak lady says.
4. Spoon 1/4 of the cream cheese mixture in each pocket.
5. Beat together eggs, milk, and vanilla.
6. Dip bread into egg mixture, letting it sit for 5 seconds on each side, before placing dipped bread on a wire rack or parchment paper to give the egg mixture time to soak into the bread completely.
7. While the bread is resting, heat a large skillet to medium-low. Melt 1 tbsp. butter.
8. Cook 2 french toast in skillet for 4 minutes on each side, or until desired brownness is achieved. Add remaining 1 tbsp. butter, cook remaining 2 french toast.
9. Bake french toast on parchment paper-lined cookie sheet for 8 minutes.
10. Serve hot, garnished with powdered sugar and strawberries (for dessert, I like to top the french toast with a mini-scoop of ice cream along with the sugar and berries).

If you're cooking for one (like I am), wrap ungarnished french toast in foil, separated by parchment or wax paper, and keep in refrigerator. To re-heat, simply toast at medium to dark setting in toaster oven or bake at 350F for 10 minutes on a cookie sheet and covered with foil. These make great last-minute desserts or snacks, and can be frozen for up to 2 months when double-wrapped in foil.

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!)

Lemon Meringue Clouds

I went to tea at the Deb's house recently, bringing these airy treats with me. He and the Duchess enjoyed them and asked for the recipe. For you, my darlings...
(Yield: dependent on size of spoonfuls)

4 egg whites
1/2 tsp. cream of tartar
3/4 cup sugar
Dash of salt
1/2 tsp. lemon extract
1/4 tsp. lemon zest

1. Preheat oven to 375F.
2. In a large, stainless steel or glass bowl, whip together egg whites and cream of tartar into a light froth.
3. Add sugar and salt, then whip until soft peaks form.
4. Add lemon extract, then whip until stiff peaks form.
5. Fold in lemon zest, then whip again for a few seconds to bring back stiff peaks if they have deflated in folding.
6. Drop by spoofuls onto parchment paper or silicon baking pad.
7. Place in oven, then TURN OVEN OFF.
8. DO NOT open oven for at least 8 hours, or overnight.

The result should be smooth, shiny, white puffs with a crispy exterior and a slightly chewy interior.

These will keep for one week in an airtight container. Don't refrigerate, but rather, keep at room temp.

Mea culpa

Hello, all. It's been ages since my last post. SORRY! I've been busy with my normal career--you know, writing and TV and stuff :)

But keep an eye out on this blog. I'll put together a mishmash of my foodie experiences over the last couple months to make a mega-post full of info and pics. Maybe a recipe or two, too!

xoxo
The Amateur Chef

Under the weather? Feel better...with noodles!

I remember being young, barely able to see the top of the table at family parties. There were big coolers of sodas and juices, groups of aunties chatting about their kids, uncles huddled outside in the cold keeping watch over a roasting pig as it turned on a spit. There wasn’t much else I was aware of—playing with my cousins and godsisters was my main focus back then. But the one thing we all remember is the food.

There was always a huge platter of pancit, stir-fried noodles tossed with vegetables, meat, and a patis-soy sauce-pepper mixture that changed with every new hand that adjusted the seasoning. Sometimes, when I’m homesick or feeling ill, I make up a big batch of pancit canton. It always makes me feel better.


Spicy Pancit Canton
I tend to blanch my noodles in boiling ginger water to not only remove any excess salt and oil, but also to impart a faint scent of ginger directly into the noodles before seasoning with the rest of the dish. Mise en place is vital in the preparation of this dish, as it will help you preserve the color and texture of the vegetables. Eight servings.

1 lb. Chinese noodles (the yellow kind, like in lo mein)
1 tbsp. vegetable oil
1 large onion, medium dice
3 cloves garlic, crushed
2 tsp. fresh ginger, minced
1 cup Napa cabbage, shredded
½ cup carrots, julienned
2 cups bok choy, shredded
1 cup cooked protein (thinly sliced pork, chicken, tofu strips, shredded beef)
1 cup raw shrimp
1 ½ tbsp. sesame oil
2 tbsp. soy sauce (or half soy sauce and half toyomansi)
1 tsp. patis (or to taste)
2 tsp. chili garlic sauce (or to taste)
2 tsp. fresh ground black pepper
1 lemon cut in wedges
minced scallions for garnish

1. Blanch noodles in ginger water for 1 minute. Remove from water and drain.
2. In a large pan, heat vegetable oil on medium. Sweat onions until they start to soften slightly. Add garlic and minced ginger. Continue cooking for 1 minute.
3. Turn heat up to medium high and add cabbage and carrots. Cook for 2 minutes. Add bok choy and cook for 2 minutes.
4. Add cooked protein, sautéing until warmed through. Add raw shrimp, cook for 1 minute (or until shrimp starts to turn opaque).
5. Push the vegetable and protein mixture to the sides of the pan, then pour in sesame oil. Make sure the bottom of the pan is evenly coated with oil, then add drained noodles. Toss in oil, then incorporate the vegetable and protein mixture into the noodles.
6. Add sauces and black pepper, toss to coat.
7. Serve with lemon wedges. Garnish with scallions.

Spicy Noodle Soup
Sometimes, the best things are made from leftovers. I didn’t want to eat the same thing the next day, so I made soup. It was almost better than the original dish! Four to six servings (depending on how much pancit you have leftover).

4 cups low-sodium, fat-free chicken broth
1 tsp. minced ginger
leftover pancit
1 cup raw shrimp
minced scallions for garnish

1. Bring chicken broth and ginger to a boil.
2. Add raw shrimp. Boil for 1 minute.
3. Add pancit. Turn off heat and cover for 2 minutes.
4. Serve garnished with scallions.



I garnished both of these dishes with Salt & Pepper Shrimp. To make the shrimp, I dredged raw, tail-on shrimp in cornstarch, then deep-fried them until pink and crispy in 325F vegetable oil. Toss with kosher salt and fresh cracked pepper, et voila!

Good Food, Bay Area Edition, Part I

I went home last weekend to see my parents. Our first food stop was Patio Filipino in San Bruno. An unassuming spot located on a busy street, I was pleasantly surprised when we entered and found candlelit tables, white table cloths, and tasteful decor. The menu, though hardly innovative, is full to bursting with some of the best that Filipino cuisine has to offer.

Patio Filipino serves dishes family-style, enabling diners to try many different dishes. We ordered the sinigang na Corned Beef, a beef broth-based soup made tangy with the addition of tamarind. No one seems to know for sure who invented this version of sinigang, with its overtones of Western culture evident in the corned beef, but it is a beautifully balanced dish. The sour of the soup, the saltiness of the meat, the savory creaminess of Japanese eggplant, and the clean crispness of radish slices all work together to create harmony in every bowl.

We enjoyed garlic fried rice with this and other dishes that night. One of my favorites to mix with garlic rice is the pork sisig. Traditionally, sisig is made with meat from the pig's face and bits of minced pig's ears. The Patio Filipino version thankfully reworks this classic by using crisped pork belly and minced pork chops instead. A sweet-salty-garlicky flavor combination, the pork sisig benefits from the addition of jalapeno to brighten up the overall taste.

Beef tapa, marinated and sauteed boneless steak, came with a vinegar-based sauce that cut through the soy sauce marinade of the beef. Perfect when cut into small pieces and mixed with the garlic fried rice.

I'm usually a huge fan of all things soft shell crab-related, but our order of sizzling soft shell crab failed to impress. The crabs themselves were fried in a delicate batter that ended up oily and soggy from the sauce that topped this dish. Called taba ng talangka, it is literally "fat of the small crab." Salty, fatty, and pungent, this delicacy typically makes any dish it adorns an instant winner. However, there seemed to be too much of it here. I guess one really can have too much of a good thing.

We knew we wouldn't be able to have dessert if we finished all of the food, so we packed some up for leftovers and focused on the real star of the meal: Buko con Seta, Patio Filipino's version of halo-halo. In this incarnation, a young coconut is opened, juice drained out, then filled with a layer each of sweet red beans (azuki, also used in Japanese red bean ice cream and other desserts), langka (jackfruit), coconut jelly, and coconut maja blanca (similar to a blancmange in French cuisine, but made with coconut milk), then topped with two scoops of ube (purple yam) ice cream. It tasted even better than it looks.

Patio Filipino
1770 El Camino Real
San Bruno, CA 94066
650.872.9888

A Very Special Birthday Dinner

Most of Hollywood was out Wednesday night to celebrate Halloween. The streets were swarming with revelers dressed in outlandish costumes, performers shivering their way through routines, and police keeping the crowd from turning unruly.

That’s not my idea of a good Halloween—because it’s my birthday, too!

The Dark Knight spirited me far from the West Hollywood/Santa Monica Blvd. madness and instead treated me to a wonderfully indulgent dinner at Hatfield’s. We were seated in the dining room, a compact but efficiently designed space with a spartan, but thoroughly charming, feel.

The seven-course tasting menu beckoned us to order drinks that were light and fresh in flavor: the house special cucumber-mint gimlet for him, and a small (375 ml) bottle of the 2004 Vouvray from Champalou for me. The gimlet had a nice sweetness to it that married well with the green taste of the cucumber and brightness of the mint. I loved my Vouvray, with its crisp flavors of green pear, watercress, and green grapes that proved a perfect match to the dishes that comprised our meal.

Before ordering, we received an amuse bouche plate of deviled quail eggs with a hint of smoked salmon and a shot of creamy cauliflower soup, both of which were perfect little tastes. Then came warm cheese gougères—addictive and amazing, buttery and light in texture. It took a lot of self-control for the Dark Knight and I not to gorge ourselves on these little bits of goodness throughout the meal.

Luckily, the first course arrived shortly after ordering, and it set the tone for the rest of our wondrous ride. We received dishes tailored, it seemed, to our drink choices. Incredibly lovely and considerate, no? The Dark Knight’s cuttlefish atop celery root puree and maitake mushrooms dressed in a lemongrass and galanga root-scented dressing was exquisite. I was very impressed by the croque madame that the waiter placed before me: grilled, buttered brioche rounds housing slices of hamachi and a bit of prosciutto and topped with a sunny-side up quail egg. I was pleasantly surprised by how well hamachi and prosciutto go together. If I could have that dish every day, I would. Though the same could be said about the rest of our dishes, too…

Up next was seared octopus over marinated hearts of palm for the Dark Knight, the Asian-tinged flavors of which tied in nicely with the minty fresh flavors of his gimlet. My warm crab and trumpet mushroom-stuffed buckwheat crepe with beets and marinated radish accented with a smear of fines herbs was ethereal. Sweet crabmeat wins me over every time, especially when accompanied by components that create such harmony on my palate.

Just when we thought the seafood portion of our meal had reached its peak, Chef Quinn’s kitchen proved us wrong. The Dark Knight practically inhaled his poached ocean trout over ruby red grapefruit salad and smoked potato puree. The buttery, bright orange fish was so good, he almost forgot to share with me. No matter, though, because I was engrossed in my hempseed-crusted hamachi collar with creamed chard and Manila clam with cauliflower puree and garlic/pea sprout oil. The hamachi collar was tender and flavorful. Divine.

Three courses down, four to go, and the Dark Knight and I were starting to feel full. We couldn’t help but perk up, though, when we saw our next courses. The Dark Knight’s boneless chicken leg and seared foie gras over black eyed peas looked delicious, but my duck breast and seared foie gras with a whiskey-prune glaze was the only thing I would even consider eating at that point. The flavors, though rich and decadent, were so pleasing that I almost wish my serving had been larger. But then I wouldn’t have had space for the next course, which was quite delicious.

The Dark Knight was served slow-cooked beef rib supported by Chinese broccoli and a garnet yam puree, accompanied by a small handful of fried spätzle. He barely looked up as he dug in to the succulent and tender beef. I enjoyed the lamb, crusted with a date-pistachio-panko mixture and sitting on a potato and garlic chive puree with roasted heirloom carrots and supplemented by a smattering of fresh chickpeas. I’m not generally a fan of chickpeas, but I had already been so bowled over by everything else that I decided to take the plunge. So worth it. Fresh chickpeas are green, both in appearance and taste. They’re sweet and soft and juicy, a more substantial version of spring peas. This dish certainly broadened my culinary horizons in the very best way.

At this point, the Dark Knight had to drink some ice water and take some deep breaths. After such a long and exciting gastronomic adventure, he was experiencing food vertigo. The room started to spin, his breath came in short bursts, and his palms became sweaty. “Too much food, eaten too quickly,” I told him. Upon hearing that the remainder of our meal was all about sweets, the tension faded and the Dark Knight perked up. I guess the mere promise of dessert erased any heaviness he was feeling. I know it worked for me.

True to his word, our waiter brought the Dark Knight a mini lemon tart topped with a cloud of marshmallowy meringue as well as shards of melt-in-your-mouth slow-baked meringue. Yogurt sorbet and sweet grapefruit segments rounded out the plate. As much as I adore a lemon tart as lovely as this, I could not be bothered to have more than a taste once I started eating my buttermilk panna cotta with passion fruit sorbet. The panna cotta had the rich tang of buttermilk, enriched by the velvety texture achieved with the gelatin in the recipe. This course was really terrific, and a great palate-cleanser to prepare us for our “last” course.

For the grand finale, the Dark Knight had a chocolate tart with chocolate ganache shell and chocolate mousse atop the chewy caramel filling, accompanied by an extraordinarily smooth espresso gelato. My dessert of peanut butter-filled chocolate molten cake and salted caramel gelato was such perfection that I would have licked the plate if I were eating at home.

To ensure that we left with a good taste in our mouths, we were presented with dark chocolate and hazelnut petit fours sprinkled lightly with fleur de sel. Nothing could have topped off our meal better than these tiny treats, and the Dark Knight and I could not have been happier with our experience at Hatfield’s. The service was impeccable—warm and friendly but never intrusive, elevated by co-owner Karen’s warm demeanor and keen attention to detail—and the food will haunt my dreams for quite a while, I’m sure. At least until we come back to try the daily market special!

Hatfield’s
7458 Beverly Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA 90036
323.935.2977