Trying to Taste Tapenade – Los Angeles

Superman had his kryptonite, Caesar had his Brutus, and this foodie had a head cold. Not the kind where you sniffle a little and deal with a day of malaise, but the kind that gives you a walk on the anosmic side, down a street even the strongest of Sudafed can’t reach.

Knowing I had a serious handicap, we started slow, with a safe side of Prosciutto and Pineapple. Even people without noses can appreciate a salty prosciutto wrapped around some citrus for a splash of savory-sweet. And as if the prosciutto wasn’t promising enough, there are bites of creamy burrata in between.

It’s hard to make a good pulpo, and the Octopus definitely missed the mark. I think it’s called pulpo because it’s a bland, rubbery inner-tube surrounding an O-ring of mushy pulp. I’m not sure what part of an octopus even tastes like this. Tentacles have texture, and the head doesn’t have any mush.

The Goat Cheese and Olive Tapenade was delicious, just not together. The creamy chevre is full of rich, sweeter notes but when combined with briny olives, the flavors mix like oil and milk. This couple may have been more ill-fated than Juliet and her Romeo, but it sure didn’t stop me from spreading a ton of tapenade on my toast. If you’re going to make the dish that is the namesake of your restaurant, it better be good, and this was by far the best tapenade I’ve ever had.

The French Brussels Sprouts were about the same color as the tapenade, but while I loved the dark, slightly-bitter tapenade, I didn’t care to have my dark, very bitter Brussels sprouts burnt. Brussels are definitely better crisp, but the leaves were black with char. And when you char something that is already bitter, it smolders like the last ashes of a forgotten campfire instead of dancing on your tongue like the flames. The addition of the brie was also a little weird, but the notes of pine nuts were perfect.

I objected to the Veal Agnolotti about as much as I objected to the Brussels sprouts…but only in principle. Braised baby cow is an unnecessary waste, IMHO, but this shredded softness is unbelievably, blow-your-mind tender, a pocket of flavor stuffed into a bulging bag of al dente.

The Crispy Lamb is actually more of a waste. The only thing I can say is that it’s accurately described. It is indeed lamb, and it is indubitably crispy. But it is otherwise greasy, like it sat in fat and oil, and the mayo is mucus-thick, assaulting the senses and clogging the throat.

The lamb sits in fat, but the Duck Confit soars. This belly-filling, melt-in-your-mouth leg covering a bed of nondescript mashed potatoes is a dinner in itself. Construction workers aren’t the only ones who whistle when they see a nice leg. One bite of this duck and I sounded like a tea kettle.

The best part of dinner is that it’s followed by dessert. The Chocolate Nutella Panna Cotta was every bit as rich and chocolately as a panna cotta can promise, and I hope it’s a promise that there’s more where that came from.

The thing is, I’m not sure that panna cotta makes a promise it can keep because Tapenade’s dishes have been a either total hit or a total miss. The hits are amazing, but the misses are so far off the mark. Some things are meant to be, some things don’t belong together, and some things don’t even belong on a plate. When it comes to consistency, Tapenade was about as reliable as my sense of smell that night.