The stone counter seating cradles the kitchen, where three chefs weave in, around, and through, the dance of their three-man show.
The intimate setting is conducive to conversation, as much or as little as you'd like as how much you engage is entirely up to you. The chefs are professional though informal, knowledgeable yet approachable, and their passion for the food is undeniable. They serve whatever they feel like cooking with whatever their top-notch purveyors have.
It's clear that they believe in everything they're serving, especially their "freshest bread". The oven-to-plate brioche is a signature starter that reflects their values, their commitment to getting you the freshest food they can. This roll has a smooth-skin like a summer tan, with flaky salt that encrusts it like sand from a summer surf. They move at a feverish pace to plate it, with the goal of getting it into your mouth before the crumb can even settle. Let the steam coalesce on your glasses as it rises from the just-broken bun, and let your fervid fingers feel the burn as you try to glide on some butter.
The Greenest Salad goes so well with this and everything else they make as the freshest veggies of the season include a bounty of snap peas and sharp lettuce with crunchy cukes and edamame, all glued together by avocado goo. It tastes like air and grass and rain, and it's best if consumed throughout the meal as both a side and a palate cleanser.
Asparagus juice runs into a soft slice of Iberico pork. The meat is more often consumed in its cured form, so having it fresh is a treat both smoky and sweet. That said, I'm not sure I'm a fan of this combination as I feel the earthy asparagus neither clashes nor contrasts nor complements this pork.
The Mussels Croquetas are served with little explanation and minimal fanfare, but they are my surprisingly second-favorite food of the night. There is a fine crumb crust that gives texture to the rich mix of succulent shellfish in cream sauce with a tinge of tomato. I love the flavor-bomb shrimp chunks and mussel bits, and the sauce is just divine.
We are hit next with the first Paella I have actually liked. The plump rice grains are spread so thin that half of them are socarrat, and they're cooked to be supple but not so much that each grain can't maintain its individuality. The half-crust crunch complements the fleshy fish and its delicate, sea-sweet flavor.
Patatas Bravas get a lot of press, and it's a lot of talk for a few fat French fries, though the sauces are stuff for thought. There's a rich, dark, deeply-garlic tomato sauce that is bold yet easily addicting, and who doesn't love an awesome aioli.
The Tortellini are too pretty to eat, hand-folded into flawless tori filled with pork perked up with black pepper and peppery fennel and aromatic herbs like oregano. With the Chinese broccoli, they remind me of a dumpling, and I like them so much I don't think I'll ever go back to boring old cheese. The sauce seems quite Italian, a thicker brodo with just enough lemon to make the mouth pucker most pleasantly.
It is worth the cost of the entire meal just for the Lamb alone. I’ve never tasted anything like it, these simple chops, just seasoned and with a bit of smoke. We're told that this farm has found a diet (of chicory?) that soothes the gamey flavor and tempers the aftertaste. This meat was clearly lamb, but the flavor was impossibly clean and pure.
Simple slices of Steak signal the end of the meal, but I wish they'd served it first. The lamb is hard to follow, and it's the tempura green beans that steal the show. Deep-frying seems to bolster their green-goddess flavor profile, and the yuzu-kosho sauce is quite the standout.
Dessert starts with Dubai Chocolate Strawberries, which are like the first opener for a somewhat popular concert. The first guy isn't great, and he's playing to the people who are tapping their feet in line for drinks or trying to hype up for the headliner. The crunchies are there, the cream is fluffy and light, but the chocolate on top is heavy and overpowering, and you have to dig to find the relatively few berries. It feels rather hastily thrown together and lacks the deep thought and intention of all the other plates.
All mediocrity melts away when the true headliners arrives in the form of a Kougin Amman ice cream sandwich. That pastry is perfection, and the ice cream sinks into all those little crannies between the salted layers, which are what makes it so singular. The balance of salt and sugar is satisfying to a spectacular effect, and even now, I can still taste it, over one month later.
Trust is a likeable place, one you come to for the experience. The abandoned-building, round-counter setting is not so common, and the up close and personal face time with the chefs is hard to find in a world where everything is on a screen and executive chefs split their time between more engagements than there are hours in the day. This does affect the food, as the lack of staff requires preparations be kept simple. You can't have someone stirring a six-hour sauce as three guys against 18 seats don't have a person to spare. So you won't be wowed by the creativity of innovation, but the food is delicious without a doubt, and I do think the facetime with these chefs is worth the price.
